Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For a moment, I stood in front of a dark wooden door, the peephole in the center belying nothing on the other side. The door had the number twenty-three engraved on a plaque to the right side, but it must have been a while since it had been polished or maintained since the inscription was fading, almost smeared. It was as if someone had decided to brush their fingers against the inscription for years once or twice a day and had never stopped. 

Knowing the occupant on the other side, she probably had.

Not wanting to jump into a situation I had planned out to the letter only two weeks ago, I flipped through some of my apps on my phone. I eyed the time and felt my heart leap up into my throat. Five minutes to the designated time. Would she be surprised to see me so early? Would she think it weird if I were to knock now? Maybe… maybe I should wait five minutes and then knock. Or, and this was another possibility, I could always be a few minutes late. 

Wasn’t being fashionably late some sort of thing people do to assure others that they weren’t too hung up or anxious about upholding appointments? But… wasn’t that rude?

I didn’t want to be rude…

Yet, knowing her, she would be just as kind to me as she was so many years ago whether or not I knocked now or five minutes into the future.

What difference did five minutes make?

I stared hard at the door, feeling anxiety build in my body, the feeling of my throat constricting and my breaths becoming heavy my one musical accompaniment in the deserted hallway. As I debated my options, another thought sprung into my mind. 

I could pretend that my plane had arrived too late. 

I could say that I couldn’t find suitable transportation to take me back to this town. 

Or—Or—Or—

Or I could finally take control of my life—no matter how small this matter may be—and knock. Simple as that. What could be so hard about knocking on her door? 

One step after another, I found myself eye to eye with the wooden grain of the door, my fist poised a few inches away from the surface. 

“Come on,” I hissed to myself. “It’s just her. She won’t hurt you.”

I hated how I sounded. My voice sounded weak, too brittle and fragile. It was as if my voice was like a porcelain vase teetering on the edge of a table, just waiting for the inevitable. 

Swallowing hard, I breathed in and out.

Slowly and with purpose.

If I kept going without the proper breathing technique, then I was sure to faint and nobody wanted to come across a body in the middle of an apartment building. 

Once my breathing was under control—five seconds breathing in, eight second breathing out, five seconds breathing in—I readied myself and glanced down at my phone. 

Two more minutes to the designated time. 

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, I summoned the courage to rap my knuckles against the door, an expectant smile on my face. It took a moment, but after a few steady raps that reminded me of a beat from an old rap song, I heard the pitter patter of slippers slapping against hardwood flooring. Before I could step away from the door, I found myself staring up into the eyes of the woman I had known since I was a child.

Her eyes, once so bright and joyful with the youth of a middle-aged mother, looked dull and flat. However, as her eyes widened and took in my slight stature, I could see that her eyes seemed to slant upwards, the crinkly lines of crow’s feet gathering like steady strokes of a pencil on fresh paper. 

Whether or not it was a bad idea, I was already in too deep. 

It was now or never. 

“H-heya, Mrs. Rogers!” I tugged at the ends of my hair with my left hand while my right hand gave her a jaunty salute. However, in the process of saluting, I knocked my glasses slightly to the side so that it rested askew on my nose. Inwardly, I grimaced at my clumsiness, but it was worth it. 

She was smiling and the crow’s feet at the edges of her eyes seemed to multiply in number. 

“Ellie,” she breathed. Her arms, slender years before, had become almost spider thin and fragile as she raised them in the air around me. A second passed where she seemed to hesitate before she placed her arms around my shoulders and brought me full force into her chest. Although she was taller than me—a couple heads taller than me, can you believe that?—I noticed that her figure was just as thin as her arms. Her clothing, thick and comforting amid the mild winter conditions, smelled like fresh cotton and baked goods. Compared to her, I was like a solid brick wall—meat on my bones and a little bit more. 

“Ellie, it’s been so long!” She pulled away from me and stared at my face with a look of wonder. “How are you, dear? And why are you wearing so many layers?”

At her incredulous tone, I could only look off to the side while I fingered the hem of my heavy-duty winter coat. 

“Well, it’s kinda… you know, really hot in the Philippines.” I shrugged as warmth blossomed in my cheeks before sending her a bashful smile in her direction. “I became so used to the climate there that I completely forgot how cold it gets up here in the States.”

Her brows furrowed. “But it’s not that cold, dear?”

I laughed. “Exactly. It gets so hot there, anything lower than sixty degrees gets to be freezing for me.” I stepped outside of her personal space and angled my head towards the inside of her apartment. “Umm, Mrs. Rogers… am I allowed inside or—?”

A shocked noise left her mouth as she quickly grabbed hold of my left elbow and began none too gently dragging me inside. “Magdalena Robles, how many times do I have to tell you, call me Connie!” 

She ushered me to a small kitchen table that could be made to comfortably seat four people before she began to busy herself in the kitchen. I jumped out of my seat, already at a loss at what to do.

“Mrs. Ro—Connie! Let me—”

She sent me a mock glare that had me scrambling back to my seat and placing my hands in a complacent manner on my lap. 

“You better not think about helping me or so help me God, I will throw you out. After all, you’re a guest and I’m the hostess.” The threatening tone she used was heavily eclipsed with the sight of something that had my mouth watering and my eyes widening with surprise. 

“Is that—?” I practically bounced in my seat as she placed a plate of crepes before me. 

She rolled her eyes at my antics before stopping me with a pointed glance at me.

I froze before realizing that I still had my coat on. Throwing out my anxiety about the reunion between the two of us, I hastily stood up and divested myself of my winter coat. I waved aside her attempts to take the coat away from me as I traveled back to the door where there was a coat rack with an assortment of hats and scarves hanging from the rods. Once I secured my coat among the pegs, I barreled back into my chair and gave Connie the biggest smile I could muster.

“Thank you so much! It’s been—” I thought for a second before setting for an answer. “Oh my gosh, it’s been almost a decade since I last had your crepes!”

Her bright green eyes, lively and amused as ever, seemed to twinkle with mischief as she handed me a fork. “If I had known that you were going to get this excited about my crepes, I should have invited you here much, much earlier.” She gestured with a hand towards me. “Come on, I know you don’t want to listen to this old woman talk. Eat.”

With trembling fingers, I took the fork, separated the first bite from the rest, and placed it gently on my mouth.

Glorious. 

Absolutely glorious.

The crepe was perfectly thin and light, the scent of fruit filled my nose as the taste of cream assaulted my senses. As my chewing slowed and I swallowed, I looked at Connie who had been gauging my expression with something akin to worry. Quick to allay her fears, I took another bite and spoke.

“Hands down, the best thing I’ve had in… roughly the past twenty four hours.”

She laughed, a sound that would have been hearty and boisterous years ago, but was now reduced to a few breathy chuckles and gasps. 

“Airline food that bad?”

I shrugged. “There are some things you can’t talk about.” I shoveled another bite of delicious crepe into my mouth before I sent her a glance. “You didn’t have to make me crepes, but I really do appreciate it.”

She snorted before resting heavily in the chair that she sat in. “It was either crepes or turon , but every time I make them, the banana always ends up too dry.” She sighed before smiling warmly at me.

“It’s a good thing you like sweet things.”

I colored at that, a little too aware that there was probably a healthy—or not—dusting of powdered sugar crusting around the edges of my mouth. My finger touched the corners of my lips and sure enough, it came back with powdered sugar. 

“A-anyway,” I hedged, as I tried to get to the crux of the reason I was here. Well, part of the reason anyhow. “How are you? I know it’s been… some time since...” 

Automatically, I closed my mouth and brought my gaze down onto my half eaten crepe. Shouldn’t have said that. Shouldn’t have said that at all. Good God, Connie was going to start crying and then I was going to get kicked out and I probably wouldn’t have the nerve to email her ever again and—

A soft touch to my hand brought me out of my misery. She patted my hand gently and I glanced up at her in curiosity. 

There were a few tears in her eyes, but she showed me no signs of any animosity. 

“Lyra really liked you,” her voice only above a gentle murmur. “On that day when… that happened, she was planning on asking you to come back from the Philippines for the summer. I wasn’t sure where she was going to get the money for a plane ticket back, but that girl was as stubborn as a mule.” She laughed and gripped my hand, a grip that I returned just as enthusiastically. “Did I tell you that story already? My mind tends to forget these things sometimes.”

I hummed in affirmation as I placed my fork on the edge of my plate. 

“It must have been so hard,” I whispered. “Losing Lyra and then…. And then…” I couldn’t speak of what happened to the other members of the Rogers family. Connie must have sensed my discomfort, though she didn’t have to, as she surreptitiously released my hand and swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. 

“Ellie, how was the Philippines? You’ve been sending me emails for years now, but printed words can only do so much. How is the education system different from the American one?”

Glad to have glossed over a topic that we had previously talked about in our shared emails, I began to speak about my adventures in the Philippines. I regaled her with tales of how I struggled in my mandatory Filipino class, how my parents forced me to take a tutoring class in our natal dialect ( Cebuano ), and the friends and experiences I made. 

This all occurred a couple of years before the transitioning of the Philippines conforming to the rest of the world’s educational standards (that is conforming to the K-12 education system). Basically, back before the transition, grades eleven and twelve were not added into the curriculum, which meant that most people went to college to courses that should have been offered to them if those two extra years were included. Thus, the transition would allow high school graduates greater opportunities to attain jobs and to add credibility to those who were planning to work abroad after attending college. 

Yada, yada, yada. Yeah, it wasn’t all that important to me, but it seemed to fascinate Connie as she toyed with her mug of coffee and gave me the appropriate reactions whenever necessary.

Of course, after high school, I slowly broached the topic of college. 

“It was a disaster fire.”

Her brow furrowed. 

“Could you elaborate on that? Your emails weren’t that...illuminating. Last time we talked, you were a Medical Technologist?” 

I nodded sullenly, already feeling guilty that in my emails, I had steadily grown distant, if a little less descriptive in my recounts of my life in the Philippines. 

“I was gonna start my internship soon, actually, but…” Memories of so many sleepless nights, of the pressures that my parents forced me to endure began to fill my head. I tugged at my hair, my crepe now forgotten on my plate. “Well, long story short, I requested to take a year off, ya know? There was some opposition from my parents and teachers and it just became too much. Studying in the medical field is great and all, but—” I stopped short and curled my hair around my fingers, the tautness of the lock sending signals of pain to my brain, which barely stopped tears from welling in my eyes. 

Connie’s hand, I now noticed, was thin and had deep blue veins rising above the paper-thin skin. Her skin seemed to stretch too tight above the bone, as if she moved too quickly or too unexpectedly, the skin would split. I could imagine, as I studied those veins, I could withdraw blood easily from that hand. I shook that thought away as she grabbed my wrist and gently tugged it away from my hair.

“I was surprised when you told me that you were going into premed. When you were younger, you were always telling Toby that you were going to be the next J. K. Rowling.” Her voice hitched a little at his name, but I called no attention to it. 

“Ha, have you seen her recent stuff online?” I rolled my eyes, but I was all too aware of the burning sensation that threatened to overflow and run down my cheeks in the form of tears. “She should have let Harry Potter die an honorable death years ago.”

“Hey now! I liked the Casual Vacancy !”

“And The Cursed Child ?”

She could offer no words. 

“But yeah,” I frowned a little down at the table, taking note of the smooth surface. “I thought that college would be like high school. You just do what’s necessary and succeed.” I bit out a chuckle. “Joke’s on me, it’s not about the smarts or the intelligence. It’s about the heart and passion for it; neither of which I have.”

“Ellie.” 

I looked at her, strangely comforted by the concern that was in her voice. She rose from her chair and approached me, her arms once again settling against my shoulders. I stiffened in her hold and closed my eyes as I felt her warmth seep into the chill that seemed to permeat through my bones.

Why was she hugging me? 

Was it because I used to be friends with her kids growing up? Or was this because she knew that this whole experience of uprooting my life in the Philippines, coming back to my childhood hometown, and well… everything… 

Was this because she felt sorry for me? 

I felt tears of guilt well in my eyes again. She shouldn’t be the one to comfort me especially with all that she had to deal with in the past couple years.

I should be… I should have been stronger than this. 

I told her as much under muttered breath, but she held me still and rubbed circles in my back. 

She was so tender, so utterly motherly, that I couldn’t help but lean into her hold and squeeze my eyes shut. 

I wish I had more of this growing up. 

“Ellie,” she began, her voice as lovely and comforting like a blanket fresh from the dryer, “will you be all right here? I feel like you’ve left a lot of things unresolved back in the Philippines. In fact, when you first contacted me that you were coming back, I was also expecting your parents to contact me as well.” Connie paused, as if she was expecting me to say something, but I refused. 

I just… I wanted to say something, but hot iron brands clamped around my throat and I was loath to speak. 

Connie must have sensed my unease before she released me and nodded at my plate that was still filled with crepe.

“You should finish that crepe,” she murmured gently. She went back to the kitchen, probably to busy herself while I finished eating, but before she settled herself next to her sink, she spoke briefly to me. “For what it’s worth, you’re always welcome here, Ellie.”

I nodded, not sure how to handle why my throat seemed to grow ever hotter while my ears burned with guilty embarrassment. 

“Thanks, Connie.”

“And Ellie?”

I turned to her, mouth filled with sugary crepe and unspoken questions.

“Happy birthday.”

She refused to look away from the suds that were busy gathering in the sink, but I could barely make out how her shoulders shuddered. 

If I looked closely, I could see how drops of water seemed to fall from her eyes and into the sink below.

I hummed, not trusting my voice.

Chapter Text

For hours afterward, Mrs. Rogers and I reminisced and talked about our time apart. Despite the fact that my emails helped bridge the gap between us, Mrs. Rogers was right. The written word had nothing on actual face to face interaction with a woman that I looked up and adored. 

As I helped wash the dishes (yes, I had to basically manipulate Mrs. Rogers into doing them beside her instead of just watching from the dinner table), I happened to glance out the window. She had a great view from her kitchen, if I was being honest and if my unprofessional opinion had any point. There was the view of the little garden that the owners of the apartment complex liked to maintain alongside a small little playground meant to cater to the children that happened to live inside the building. It was a quaint little scene and I felt my insides warm  a little.

And then I glanced up.

The sun was slowly setting, the outline of the moon slowly making itself known amidst the cool blue tones of the sky. As I rinsed the suds off the last plate and dried it, I took a breath and faced Mrs. Rogers.

“Hey… looks like I have to leave soon.” I fingered the hem of my sweater, the sleeves of which flowed a little past my wrists. I kept my gaze low and my voice soft, yet still somewhat audible. “This was… this was great! And I…”

I hugged my arms around my middle—a facsimile of a hug that a part of me always craved. A gentle hand placed a lock of my dark brown hair behind one of my ears and I looked up into the eyes of Mrs. Rogers. 

“Do you want me to take you back?”

I laughed a little breathlessly as I leaned into her warm touch.

“I… I actually remember the way back. And if I don’t—” I shrugged my shoulders. “I can always call for a ride or something. I’m actually staying with a relative of mine.”

“Oh?” She cocked her head to the side in question. “Do I know them?”

I thought for a second back to my childhood trying to remember if Mrs. Rogers had met anyone in my family besides my parents. Realizing that my parents had only kept to themselves and that my meeting Mrs. Rogers was only beneficial towards their interests and not out of true friendship or want for an affiliation with her, I shook my head. 

“No, it’s my aunt. She… she lives near my old house, actually.” 

And my old house was conveniently close to the old Rogers home before it had burned down all those years ago. 

I was stunned out of my thoughts when Mrs. Rogers squeezed my shoulder briefly before heading inside the kitchen. I heard her shuffle a few items inside the depths of her fridge before emerging with a tupperware and a broad smile on her weathered face. 

Eyes wide, I asked, “Is that—?”

She nodded brightly, “Think of it as an official welcome home gift from me and your aunt.”

After embracing her once more, I tugged on my heavy winter coat and tucked the tupperware under one of my arms. After assuring her that I didn’t need to be driven back to my aunt’s residence, I walked down two flights of stairs until I reached the ground floor. From there, I exited the building and began the half hour trek back to the place that I was supposed to call home. 

Tita Chona laughed, the sound of her giggles filling the night air as she led me into her house. 

“Lena, is that a tupperware for me?” 

She pinched my cheek and I winced before taking her hand in mine. Gently, I placed her curled knuckles onto my cool forehead, something that had her cooing at me for being such a “good girl” and that I should get warmed up soon. 

“Ah, Tita Chona, these are from Co—Mrs. Rogers!” I laughed at my little slip up, but my aunt looked up at me with a slight look of accusation in her eyes. Carefully, I edged my way into the household, the hold on my suitcase and the tupperware tightening minutely as I heard her busy herself with the locks. “A-anyway, you like crepes?”

The older woman held my gaze before a sigh left her lips. 

“Lena, how many times do I have to tell you? Have more confidence in yourself, hah?” 

I blanched a little at her insinuation that I was still that awkward, scared little girl that used to hide in the basement while everyone else was busy partying or singing karaoke. I’ll be honest, it was somewhat true. A decade may have passed, but I still felt needlessly awkward and lost in a world where everything and everyone was moving at speeds that I can only hope to match. 

When I was younger, my parents would force me to spend time with my cousins and family members. I was forced to endure kisses, hugs, and personal questions. Often, I was asked to tell my titas and titos about all my achievements in school—things that I wanted to keep secret for myself. Things that I only did because my parents were… strict.

Yeah, let’s call it that. 

Strict.

I don’t know, the more I think about my parents, the angrier I get. 

Anyway, those interactions I had with my family left me feeling bitter, like they were all trying to prove that their children were better than others. When my parents forced me to tell my titas and titos that I managed to find my way on the A honor roll or that I was playing at a recital it felt… It felt like they were just showing off. They didn’t care about my hard work. They didn’t care that I cut spending time with what little friends I had just so I could appease them.

But.

That’s all in the past.

“Magdalena!” The shrill voice of my aunt cut through my thoughts. Guiltily, I glanced in her direction and felt my blood run cold—to the point of freezing—in my veins. Her slippers slapped on the hardwood flooring, the sound had my throat clenching tight, my breathing becoming slightly labored. She stopped in the midst of my personal space and seemed to not take note of my anxiety. “Why is your head always in the clouds, hah?” She laughed, no longer a sound of merriment, but one of derision. “Is that why you failed Velez? Hah?”

Ah. So that’s what my parents told her.

My fingers wrapped tight around my suitcase, the plastic of the handle digging harshly into my skin. The pain, delicious and grounding, helped keep my wits about me. Not now, I thought to myself. You can cry, I thought to myself, but not now. 

My breathing, labored and coming out in spurts (how did my aunt not notice?), was forced into submission. It took longer than I was happy with, but eventually, I looked up into her brown eyes that looked so much like—

So much like—

So—

I laughed. Was it too hysterical? Was it inappropriate for the situation? I don’t know.

I was too tired and high strung to care at that point.

“Er… I guess? The exams were very diffi—”

“You guess? You guess?” Tita Chona shook her head like she was mocking a young child who had disobeyed her orders even though she was quite clear that they shouldn’t. My mouth clamped shut and my eyes began to itch again. Not out of emotional attachment that I felt unconditionally with Connie. No, it was out of anger. 

I… I am a bad person, but I couldn’t help it.

“How can you guess? You either didn’t study hard enough or you didn’t care enough!” 

Silence permeated the air between us until I realized something.

I was supposed to answer. 

How could I? 

How could I possibly explain to her that the child who was forced to tell her cousins, her aunts, her uncles, her grandparents, that she wanted to be a doctor had grown up?

How was I supposed to tell her that becoming a doctor was a childish fantasy force fed into me until I was choking on those lies as I was busy cramming as much knowledge into my head late into the early mornings? That becoming a doctor was like a noose that I had happily strung around my neck when I was a child. It was a noose that I had casually tightened over the years with my parents’ help until I almost decided to jump and let that rope of misplaced hopes and dreams finally hang me.

The thing is, you can’t.

Well, maybe you can.

I… can’t.

My lips trembled, my breath broke out in sharp gasps, but I could not say a single word. 

She stared at me for so long, I thought that she was trying to discern what my soul looked like on the inside. When I thought that I should finally speak up, she tiredly dragged a hand over her face and left me in the foyer of her small house. 

“Do you not speak English anymore? Or have you gone deaf?” More rhetorical questions. “ Bahala mo , you know where to go.”

Tita Chona swept into one of the rooms and I was left alone.

A second passed before I sunk into the floor. My arms cradled my suitcase like I would a stuffed animal and I found myself dropping the tupperware filled with crepes onto the floor. 

After years of practice, my gasps of sadness were silent while my tears ran like steady rivers down my cheeks and smudged the lenses of my glasses.

Let’s get this straight: I love my family. 

I… do. I really, really do.

But, if it were up to me, I would have opted to find an apartment far away from what remaining family members lived in the neighboring area. If it were up to me, I would have told my parents that I didn’t want to suffer through premed just so I could suffer some more in an actual medical school. If it were up to me, I would have stayed in the States.

But it wasn’t.

And I didn’t.

And the past, no matter how jumbled and mixed up, is just that. It’s the past. 

There was nothing I could do about it.

After situating myself in the spare bedroom that used to house my cousin Kuya Benji, I fiddled with my suitcase and pulled out my laptop. It was a ratty old thing in need of replacing its battery, but I was more than willing to let it live a couple more years. As I waited for it to boot up, I scrolled through my social media apps on my phone. There were a few messages from my MedTech peers, all of them telling me that I was missing out on the wonders of internship and how some of the laboratories were haunted.

I found myself wiping the last of my tears away from one of my eyes as I tapped a response to one of my best friends. Kenneth was a cool guy, always joking and a terrible student. He was lazy, preferred to study on the day of the exam (or a few minutes before an exam), and he was infamously terrible at leading group presentations. However, he was smart. What was introduced in class, he immediately retained and just as quickly applied in our lab procedures. As a person who immediately embraced his calling as a doctor, he was more than fit for the job. After graduating from Velez, he planned to proceed to the Cebu Institute of Medicine and proceed to Internal Medicine. 

He was amazing.

Hala ! He messaged me. I think one of the centrifuges broke down! You know what that means?

I hastily tapped a series of question marks before he sent me a picture.

It was a picture of him mock crying over the centrifuge. I noticed, after a quick perusal of the image’s contents, that he taped a piece of paper with the words, “ RIP to the WORST centrifuge in the history of centrifuges. 1952—2020. ”  

It worked earlier? I asked.

Hai, senpai. Then it started making broke noises and I had to shut it down or else it might have exploded. 

There was a pause before he began typing again.

TAT is going to get longer. Boo.

Doesn’t CVGH have more centrifuges?

Gomenasorry, should have checked… Oh, wait! I did! And let me tell you, the others are just as bad as this one.

Good old CVGH. Given the circumstances, it seemed that the hospital liked to wait until the last minute until they decided to start upgrading. I couldn’t fault them for that way of thinking. Why get some new things when the old, traditional way was still working?

How’s everybody?

A series of sad faces. 

That bad, huh?

Can’t we talk about you? You start hanging out with white people?

I bit back a laugh as I tapped out another reply.

Kinda hard not to. They’re everywhere. 

What’s your plan?

Huh? Besides mooch off my tita?

The bubble that showed he was typing continued to bob up and down for quite some time. Kenneth did that sometimes. He would send a five hundred-word essay in regards to something that he was either really concerned about or if he had the time to troll me. Regardless, I knew that it would take him five minutes or so.

With that in mind, I left my assigned room and made my way to the kitchen, hoping to get a glass of water.

As I made my way there, I heard a muffled conversation behind one of my doors. Immediately, I knew it was my aunt talking to someone on her phone. Not wanting to be an eavesdropper, I was about to pass her door when I heard my name loud and clear.

Magdalena.

Another thing you should know about my family or in families in general.

You do not want to hear your full first name spoken by a family member that was not your siblings or your parents. 

I didn’t want to stop, but I leaned my head against the surface of the door and strained to hear what she was saying.

There was a reply to whatever Tita Chona had said in the first place. Odd to hear the reply, but then again, she must have put her speaker on. Or maybe she had a laptop that I didn’t know about. Regardless, it took another few seconds for me to process the speaker before I hurriedly shuffled my way past the door.

The voice on the other end was my father.

After I filled a glass of water, I practically teleported myself back into my room. At that point, Kenneth sent me two large paragraphs. Hmm, must have been at least four hundred words each. If he actually put that much effort into his studies, he would have been basically unstoppable before becoming an intern. 

The gist of his reply was this: that I was better than what I normally portrayed to people, I should enjoy life as much as possible since I wasn’t able to do that for the past decade or so, and that… 

That I wasn’t a failure for quitting half way.

I sure hoped so.

You got all that, Ellie?

Hai sensei.

Ew. I would torture my students. Anyway, why don’t you connect with your friends in the States?

I sighed to myself, already knowing that Kenneth was going to bring that up. He was such a mom.

I’m actually going to look for some local jobs in the area. 

Boo. Why are you so responsible?

I wouldn’t call fleeing the country responsible…

Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do.

I didn’t reply.

Anyway, knowing you, you probably didn’t take a nap before, during, or after your flight. Tulog na!

Okay, mom.

We bantered with a few emojis and memes before I signed out of the website and settled into the covers of the bed. It was smooth and sweet smelling; obviously, it had been changed recently.

As my eyes gradually fell into the easy arms of slumber, I released the breath that I had been unknowingly held for so long. For a moment, before I had that conversation with Kenneth, I thought that he would think… I thought that he would think the worst of me for being so weak. 

Maybe I was weak.

Maybe he was just pitying me.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Chapter Text

I walked out of the house as fast as possible. Tita Chona acted amicably towards me during breakfast, but there was tension brewing in the air. As for me, I was cordial and I talked when I was talked to. However, I kept my thoughts to myself until she broached the idea of what exactly I hoped to accomplish here. I told her that I was thinking about getting a job. 

She nodded before pushing some papers at me.

“Find something.”

I knew it would take a gigantic stroke of luck just to get a job immediately upon my return, but I decided to scout out a few places that I was vaguely familiar with. It had been almost a decade since I had last stepped foot within town, but not a lot had changed. Sure, there were some new stores that had opened up in my absence, but the overall feeling of sleepiness that I used to perceive from the town still lay undisturbed. 

It was surreal. After the horrors—watered down, of course from Mrs. Rogers’ retelling and my brief stint investigating what I could find from the internet—that the town had to have witnessed all those years ago, I was almost amazed that there was a sense of innocence still immersed within the general atmosphere. Then again, it was my first time back from the Philippines. If I had stayed here to witness the events back when it was happening, would I have moved on? 

Maybe.

Humans were weird like that. 

You could say the world was ending, that the apocalypse was imminent, and humans had the choice to ignore that. And they would. 

It was bizarre to know that once upon a time, I had walked these sidewalks, crossed these streets, and entered these stores alongside a young boy who became a killer. 

(Or, from what little I’ve read, that was what was theorized). 

What had happened? What could have caused such a great change in him that would have led him down that murderous path? Even as I huddled in my too big winter coat, I shuddered against the mild cold. 

Toby Rogers. 

Where was he? 

If he was alive, what was he doing?

I shrugged those thoughts away. I wasn’t here for the memories, I reminded myself. Job-hunting was supposed to be my top priority. If that didn’t work, then I guess I could always resort to drug dealing or something.

Ha. 

As I reached the center of town, which was home to a series of stores and businesses, I checked some of the papers that my aunt had given me; my brows furrowed as I studied the listings available and her handwritten comments on the margins. A brief scan told me everything I needed to know. Apparently, she had already spoken to some of the managers of some local stores and that she had put in a good word for me.

I scowled.

Leave it to my aunt to interfere on my behalf instead of just leaving it up to me to make my own decisions. There was also the high and ever present probability that my parents must have spoken to her before I arrived back here. 

Regardless, I stepped inside a craft store, one of those kitschy ones where it seemed to live and breathe the lifeblood of stay at home moms who thought DIY projects were like a religion. Not that I have anything against that, it’s just that… the culture of white soccer moms was palpable in the air.

As I entered, I noted that there was a relatively young woman who was stocking one of the shelves with what appeared to be journals and yearly planners. Further observation into the store revealed that she was the only active worker on site, unless there were more people behind back or something. As I made my way to her, I double checked my papers and made sure that the paper on top corresponded to the store’s logo. On one of the margins, my aunt had jotted down a reminder to look for a woman named Leslie—the manager of the store. 

With my luck this woman could be her!

Once I was a couple feet away, I steeled my nerves and cleared my throat.

No response. 

The woman, who I still assumed to be Leslie, continued to stock the shelves. 

Had she—? Did she not hear me?

I tried again, this time coming closer to the woman. Unfortuantely, she continued to stock the shelves. Her movements were stilted and robotic, as if she had done these same basic maneuvers a million times over.

Perhaps she had. 

Feeling my frustration mount, I hesitantly walked forward until I was only a scant five feet away before trying to grab her attention again. However, what little confidence I had completely sapped out of me when I met ice cold blue eyes stare deep into my deep brown eyes. 

Terrified of what I was going to assume to be a terrible encounter with a retail worker, I felt my throat close up and my hands begin to tingle with numbness. 

Mistake, this was all a mistake. 

“I, er… Never mind! H-have a nice day!” I awkwardly gave her a salute before high tailing it out the store. 

After running several blocks into a vaguely familiar area, I collapsed against the wall in an alleyway and tried to calm myself down. 

Was I…

Was I always hopeless when it came to interacting with others? 

When I was a kid, I didn't have a lot of friends. I was quiet, I didn’t know how to interact with other children my age, and school was not an environment that I truly enjoyed. Well, at first. 

School made you learn how to associate shapes and symbols with sounds and meanings. What were once angular lines or squiggly doodles became thoughts and phrases that someone could use to express themselves. For someone who could easily identify what letters best corresponded to what sounds they were supposed to make, it would have been great for them. For someone who could count and make bigger numbers from smaller numbers, they were praised and awarded stars. 

I am not dumb. 

Just. 

Slow. 

While most everyone in my kindergarten class was plowing through higher levels of reading materials deemed suitable for our age, I was slogging at level one. It didn’t help that when I felt like I had managed to grasp a new concept, I would feel sluggish and tired, as if I had no sleep at all. 

At that age… I had nightmares of… things that I couldn’t put voice to, but would rather not remember. 

(But sometimes, I could catch glimpses of tall, looming black and white figures just waiting to strike). 

Concerned for my well-being, my teacher notified my parents of my progress—or the lack thereof. 

I remember sitting on the carpeted floor, my hands busy mashing two colored pieces of clay together while my parents discussed my low reading level to my parents. Their words were hushed, urgent. The feeling of my parents’ gazes (disappointed, anxious, bitter) drilled holes into my back. 

I dared not face my parents during that conference. 

After my parents led me back to the car, they began discussing something. Or rather, someone. 

“Mahal, Mrs. Reid has a point. We both have stressful jobs; we’re too busy to tutor Magdalena alone.” That was my dad. 

“I understand that, but… How can Magdalena not understand the basics of English? She was born and raised here, it should come naturally!”

“Mahal.” My dad’s voice was soft and pleading. Even as I rested my forehead against the window, I could feel his gentle gaze caress my face as he looked at me in the rear view mirror. “Let’s at least call that tutor lady. Who—"

My mother’s words were bitter, snarled through her teeth like brambles clutching into scraps of clothing as you passed through the forest. I was young, yes, but I knew what having a wounded pride looked like. 

“Mrs. Rogers.” This time, I could feel my mother’s gaze as she peered at my shoulder to peek at me. “After dinner, mahal. ”

My father nodded as he drove the car into our driveway. However, he looked to my mother again, the look on his face somewhat more perturbed than usual. “And what about Lena’s nightma— ”

My mother’s sigh was loud and irritated as she unlocked the door and she began to slide outside. “ t’s a phase, mahal. There are no monsters.” 

Suddenly, my door opened and my mother began to unbuckle me from my seat. At this close range, I could see the bags underneath my mother’s eyes, the slight whispers of white hair creeping on the edges of her hairline. I wanted so badly to touch her, to comfort her, but I held back. 

The look in her eyes said it all.

“You hear that, Magdalena? ” Her voice was harsh and as she roughly tugged the seatbelt from my body, her face imperious and stern. It stung seeing her look at me like that. “There are no monsters.”

And so, on a windy November morning, I toddled after my parents to the Rogers’ home. Much to my parents’ surprise, the Rogers household was only a few streets away—only ten minutes away via casual strolling. The scenery as we walked was calm and peaceful as we made our way past different houses and lawns that spoke of different personalities. 

Some houses were brightly painted, and the kids that roamed around the lawn playing tag or hide and seek seemed to exude happiness and contentment, none of which I was feeling at the moment. Other houses were more subdued and quiet. In one house, if I peered closely, I could see an old man playing a piano, his hands smooth and steady, head lifted as if it were in prayer. 

Then, after a couple of minutes, we made it to the right house. 

It was nothing too grand or stately, sort of like our own. The lawn was well maintained and there was a hominess that made me think of those Hallmark movies that would come out during Christmas time. When we finally reached the door, my father made as if to knock, but found that the door was opening immediately at our arrival.

A small boy, only a hair taller than me, looked up at my parents, a crooked smile on his lips and a twitch in his neck. 

“Mom!” For some odd reason, he clicked his tongue twice, whistled, and clicked his tongue again. It was like listening to a bird trilling a happy tune. Intrigued as I was by the boy’s sounds, I still partially hid myself behind my dad’s legs. “Mom,” he called again. Another whistle. 

At that point, my parents seemed a little… I don’t know how to put it. I think I’ve mentioned this before, but my parents are nurses. They’ve seen different types of people with varying conditions for years now, probably two decades at that point. They probably knew, or at least had a passing knowledge, of Tourette’s Syndrome. As my father smoothed my hair down to calm me, my mother knelt down and greeted the boy. 

“Hello! What’s your name?” Let it be said, even if my mother wasn’t too keen on getting me a tutor, she still knew how to make the right impression. Getting on the right foot with the tutor’s son seemed to be the most viable choice at the moment. 

As the boy’s eyes widened in what appeared to be disbelief, the sounds he began to make seemed more shrill and insistent. He was, I think, excited to meet my mom. 

“I’m Toby!” Whistle. Tongue click. “Are you my mom’s new—“ Neck crack. I closed my eyes shut at that sudden, disturbing sound. “—students?”

My mother laughed quietly. “I’m actually too old, but I think Magdalena would fit right in!” 

As if on cue, my father gently ushered me forward so that I was standing directly in front of the boy. As I looked him over, from his barely brushed curls to his rumpled pajamas, he seemed to vibrate with more excitement. He was… he was happy to see me. 

“Hiya!” His hand rose and waved so fast, I thought he was about to slap me. “I’m Toby and I live here!” 

The exuberance in his speech punched me in the gut. At school, kids were always yelling or playing or being too noisy while I tried to keep away. Often, I would huddle with the pile of stuffed animals that were abandoned in one corner of the room during break times. I didn’t dislike the others, it’s just that being too close to them and their loudness made me uncomfortable. 

And when I was uncomfortable, I would often cry or shut down completely. 

When I was informed earlier that day that I was going to be interviewed by a tutor—a new teacher—I thought that would be it. Teachers were friendly. They weren’t loud and they didn’t look at you like you weird if you didn’t say anything the right way. 

I was not prepared to meet a boy my age. 

I was… uncomfortable. 

I felt my cheeks warm, my ears began to burn like I had buried my head in a rice cooker. My vision, which was never too good to begin with—later on, I would be prescribed lenses for my nearsightedness—began to distort and cloud over. I was going to cry and my parents were going to be angry and the new teacher was going to be upset with me and this Toby boy was going to think I was weird because-because-because — 

Two tongue clicks. Three sharp whistles. 

And a hug. 

“Are you okay? My mom tells me that if a person looks sad, I should do something to make them happy!” Something in his body stiffened and cracked, but gradually loosened into the limberness that I was used to. A low whistle. “Hugging makes me happy! How about you?”

I wish I could say that I had the bravery to hug him back, to say thank you for making me comfortable. 

But I was a coward from day one. 

I just stood there for an agonizing few seconds before I heard the footsteps of someone much older step into the entranceway. 

As I leaned my head up, I found myself staring at a woman who looked a little bit older than my other. She had dark brown curls that were lined with a few grey hairs interspersed among her free flowing locks. Her eyes, just as dark and inviting as Toby’s didn’t hold the same spark of mischief as he did. She seemed to be very caring and open as she moved behind Toby and lightly tapped her fingers against his shoulder. 

“Toby, dear, I think you’re squishing our guest.” Her voice had that dulcet quality that had me instantly relaxing. Whatever tears or discomfort I had melted away as she held out a veined hand. “Hello, I’m Mrs. Rogers. And you are?”

I must have been quiet for a beat too long because my mother answered for me. 

“Magdalena.”

Before Mrs. Rogers could say something, Toby practically yelled, “That’s a pretty name!” and began to tug on my arm. “Mom, Mom, Mom, can we play?” I was struck by the way he held onto me, his skin warm and insistent around my wrist. I wanted to free myself of his grip, but he didn’t want to offend him, so I decided to just let him have his fun.

Mrs. Rogers looked at her son with a fond look before she began ruffling his hair. 

“Not now, Toby. I have to talk to her and her parents first. Maybe after we finish, okay? And you have to ask first if that’s okay with Magdalena and her parents.”

After a nod, Toby let go of my arm and I was ushered into the house.

Mrs. Rogers talked about anything and everything. Every so often, she would address me, but she would later direct her attention to my parents. Soon, I was led into what appeared to be the dining room table where there were a couple booklets and papers stacked in neat piles. Curious, I looked at the booklets only to find that they were the exact same little books that were assigned back at my school. Once Mrs. Rogers noticed that, she smiled indulgently at me and handed me one of the booklets. 

“I’m sure you’ve seen this before, right?” At my hesitant nod, she continued. “I actually used to be a teacher’s aide at your school, so I have a few copies of some of the material.” She guided me to one of the seats and had me sit down in front of the booklets. “Here, why don’t you start reading while I talk to your parents for a bit?” Sending an indulgent smile my way, I couldn’t help but allow my own lips to curve up in my semblance of a grin. 

Over the course of an hour, my parents were talking to Mrs. Rogers about her methods, I just glanced at the little pictures within the books, and then I had a small conversation with her. 

She was largely a woman who knew how to speak to me. Maybe it was because I was her only student for the time being. Maybe it was because she had experience with students who were like me. Regardless, I felt… like I was being heard and seen for the first time. I know my main teacher at school tried to help me the best she could, but she had almost two dozen students to answer to, and I was lost amid the chaos of other much louder voices and needs. The same thing went for my parents. I knew that they could give me the whole world if I wanted, but they didn’t listen to me to know that I didn’t want the whole world.

I just wanted them. 

In the end, Mrs. Rogers had planned out a schedule where I would spend an hour and a half reviewing my schoolwork and catching me up to speed with the rest of my peers. My parents thought it would be a great idea. Apparently, my parents would pick me up, send me to Mrs. Rogers’ house, and I would hopefully gain more momentum with the basics of education. In addition, one of Mrs. Rogers’ kids would walk me back home as soon as I was done so that my parents would not have to rush around from place to place. 

“Lyra, she’s a bit older than you, but I think you’ll like her.” Mrs. Rogers smiled encouragingly. “She’s not here right now because she’s out playing with the neighbors, which reminds me…” She leaned in close to me and whispered in a conspiratory manner, “Would you like to play with Toby for a little while?”

I was a shy kid and I was tempted to say no, but my mother answered for me.

“I think I saw him go out there, Magdalena,” she pointed out towards the hallway. With a slight nudge, I found myself trudging towards the depths of the unknown. When I left, I could distinctly hear the sound of conversation picking up behind me. 

For the first time in almost two hours, I was alone.

The hallway led me into the foyer that led to the front of the house. I hadn’t heard the front door open in a while, so he must have been somewhere else… I turned and found myself facing a set of stairs or a doorway that led to another room. Hmm… I hesitated, my fists were clenching the hem of my shirt as I tried to weigh in my options. Upstairs probably led to bedrooms and I don’t think that I was allowed to go in them, but this doorway… I just didn’t want to barge in accidentally. What if it was a bathroom?

I pinched myself to make a decision. 

Upstairs it was then.

And so, I approached the upper floor with a breath held deep within my throat and my heart beating wildly inside my rib cage.

Chapter Text

The stairs in the Rogers household were carpeted. 

I know, not the most interesting detail, but it struck me as something weird at the time. At my house, we only had one floor. The only set of stairs that I had access to were the ones that led from the small walkway and up the porch. As you can imagine, it wasn’t that much of a trip from getting up and down. 

When I found myself facing the stairs, my toes touching the last step, I just couldn’t help but stare at the well, stairs. The carpet was light brown, nothing much in the way of design, but I can tell that it would be a pain to clean. I glanced down at my shoes and winced. 

Back home, I always took my shoes off, but when it came to visiting other people’s houses, it was a toss up as to what the common courtesy was in place. 

Toby and Mrs. Rogers wore shoes on the first floor of their home, but did they wear them upstairs as well? Or did they take them off and place them on one side of their bedrooms to minimize the dirt coming in? It was so strange—the concept of wearing shoes inside the house was always foreign to me, but now more so than ever because I was tasked with finding someone I had only just scarcely met and was now faced with a moral dilemma. 

Should I go up the stairs with my shoes still on? Would it be too weird if I took them off? I had worn a pair of nice white socks, but my mother would scold me if I got them too dirty, which would likely be the case if I started walking in my socks, only to find out that the stairs had dirt from people walking with their shoes all over them. 

It was during times like these when it seemed like time was moving too fast and too slow at the same time. It was like my brain was yelling at me with a cacophony of voices, similar to the ones that I would hear all the time during class time and recess and lunch. 

It was annoying, but overwhelming. 

I felt so stupid and helpless. 

It was just a set of stairs! 

Stairs!

My little fingers dig into the skin of my left arm, my little sweater that I wore just barely taking the edge off the self inflicted pain. 

Two whistles. 

A tongue clicking against teeth. 

The sudden sound had me glancing up from the dull town carpet and into the dark brown eyes of a boy just barely older than me. A cheeky grin stretched his face, a barely noticeable dimple on his left cheek. I noticed, the more I stared at him in a manner that most would have perceived as struck dumb, that he held a pack of colored papers in one hand and a cardboard box of branded crayons in the other. 

“Heya, Mag… Mag-er… ?” The cheeky grin of his fell, but that’s not what I noticed first. His shoulder rolled back and his neck… it cracked or popped? At the time I wasn’t too sure. The fear of what I had seen must have shown on my face because Toby began to race down the stairs, muttering apologies as he went. 

“Sorry! I forgot your name and I can’t control it and I have some kind of—“

I stared at his feet, no longer as lost as I once was. 

“Shoes.”

He skidded to a stop in front of me, one of his feet landing on the floor while the other was still on the bottom step. He regarded me with confusion, a whistle escaping his lips. 

“Huh?”

“You’re, uh,” I pointed down at his shoes. They were scuffed and worn. The sides of his sneaker that were white had a few texted of grass stains and flecks of dirt embedded into the material. An outdoorsy boy. It would make sense; the Rogers’ backyard basically housed the woods. “You’re wearing shoes?” 

Toby blinked at my explanation. “I could take them off if you want?” 

My eyes bugged out of my head. No, he didn’t have to do that for me! Sure, I was a guest, but that didn’t mean I wanted to make him uncomfortable in his own home! My parents would give me the scolding of a lifetime and I would be embarrassed for the next month or so! 

“N-no!” I pinched my left arm again and focused on something, anything other than the boy in front of me. “They’re nice shoes. Good shoes for… running.”

He took that answer in stride as he nodded to himself. I noted, with slight satisfaction, that his smile had returned and so did the dimple on his left cheek.

It warmed me from the inside to the outside. 

“Wanna color?” He held up his art supplies and I nodded. I was too relieved that I hadn’t made too much of a fool of myself and that he made the decision for me. He led me up the stairs and into what I assumed to be his bedroom. All the while, he talked and grasped my elbow like he was afraid that I was going to disappear. 

Along the walls of the rising staircase, I noticed a series of photographs. Some were preserved the memories of chubby little babies swaddled in white. Others were of a man and woman in wedding clothes. At the very top of the stairs, there was a framed photo of a couple holding two very young children in their arms. The father had thinning blond hair, a trait that he shared with the little girl he carried in his arms. Given the situation, I could only imagine that this was Lyra. On the other side of the photo, Mrs. Rogers held a younger looking Toby at her side. 

The picture was cute. 

An insistent tug pulled me out of my thoughts and into Toby’s bedroom. 

“Oh.” Inside, I noticed that the mid afternoon sun streamed through the windows, making the living space seem so much more homier and comfortable. His bed covers were rumpled, as if he had made a slapdash job of fixing it that morning, or if he had been sitting in it before I came in. Near the door, I noticed a small desk that held the remnants of scribbles and crumpled sheets—evidence that he had been busy before dragging me upstairs. 

As I took in the sights, Toby clicked his tongue and whistled several times as he rummaged through a drawer before revealing a small box that held watercolors. Task done, he again took me by the arm—at that point, I was so comfortable with his touch that I decided to let him be—and had me sit at the desk. 

“Wanna draw, color, paint, or… ?” 

His voice trailed off, a little unsure as I studied the materials that he had laid out on the desk. 

“I’ll make a dog. Is that okay?” I grabbed one of the colored papers, a light sky blue, my hands just itching to start making folds into the crisp paper. Unfortunately, the papers were the standard brand that you would use to print from the common printer, but just colored other than the common white. That was okay, I knew how to cut papers until they were the standard square shape that was needed for origami.

Confused, Toby looked over the paper and back to me. “Are you going to draw a dog or actually make one?” His tongue clicked against his teeth, a whistle following shortly. “How are you going to make a dog?”

Despite myself, I smiled before taking one of the papers and seating myself at the desk. My fingers were already folding the computer printer paper over itself, which formed a square. I removed the excess by tearing off the strip that was still attached to the square that I wanted to keep for myself. 

“Have you ever heard of origami?” I stalled in my movements when I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. It was probably meant as a comforting gesture, but I wasn’t too sure. Once I looked at his eyes, which were furrowed in consternation, I knew that he probably was confused by what I said and that he hadn’t heard of origami before. At the very least, he probably hadn’t seen origami in action. “Do you… wanna learn?”

He whistled quietly to himself before shaking his head. “I’ll watch first,” he decided. He punctuated his statement with an impatient clicking of his tongue. 

Taking that as all the permission that I was going to get, I started working on the dog. 

At that point in time, I only learned a few of the basic animals that could be created from origami. I learned most of the craft from my cousin, Kuya Benji, but I was still wracking my brain as I began with the basic folds. 

Here’s the thing with origami, you have to make sure that all the foundational creases are there or you’ll mess up later. Furthermore, you have to be precise and make sure that all the necessary folds are completely creased. If you don’t press hard enough for even one part of the foundational creases, you will mess up later. It was a way of life that good ole Kuya Benji told me as he tried to help me backtrack in my failed crane that I tried making a couple weeks ago. 

After a few basic lessons with my cousin, I managed to do a few animals on my own. As a reward and as a way to get off his back because he could only stand hanging around me for only a few minutes at a time before his video games called to him, he let me borrow his book filled with instructions for origami. Most of the time, the instructions were only shown through pictures and diagrams. Thank goodness for that… I still can’t read that well. 

As I folded, I lost myself into the feel of the paper. For those of you who have done origami or some kind of hands on arts and crafts before, do you get that feeling of peace? Like, you’re concentrating so hard that everything just melts away? For a few minutes all was well and I was truly in my element, but when I finally reached the last of the necessary folds—

“Is that a dog?”

I jerked so bad in my seat, I almost thought that I was going to fall off the chair that Toby allowed me to use. In the sudden surge of movement, I happened to lose the grip that I had on my origami dog. Small as it was, it fell to the ground like a cannonball falling off a large tower. There it lay, on its side and completely sad to look at. 

“Y-yeah?” I fished the dog off the floor and set it on the desk so that it stood tall and proud on its nonexistent legs. “You don’t like it?”

I liked it. 

In fact, I think it was the best dog that I ever made since the last time I attempted to make one, which was only a few days ago. 

Toby simply toyed with the paper dog. Feeling apprehensive, I hunched a little into myself. I thought he was going to mess with the folds, but I found myself pleasantly surprised. He took one of the pens off his desk and drew eyes and a small smile on the dog’s face.

“There,” he declared, “now it looks like a dog!” 

I nodded in agreement. Originally, the origami dog only had the semblance of a canine appearance, but now it had the added benefit of having a cute face. 

“Yeah! I’m calling him Theodore!” I looked to Toby for approval, but again, I was surprised. He started laughing, which was a pleasant sound overall, but it had me feeling inadequate. Was it something I said? Did I sound stupid? Did he not like the name Theodore? “O-oh… you don’t like Theodore?”

A series of whistles and tongue clicks greeted my ears while I watched as his shoulders began to roll back in concerted effort. I watched a little uneasily, thinking that maybe it looked a little painful whenever he did that, but when he turned to me with a bashful smile, I brushed those thoughts away. 

It was probably nothing. 

“I like Theodore. And—'' He sang in a trilling voice. “I like you!” 

I… I don’t know what happened. At that moment, all the focus and calm that I had when I was making the paper dog abruptly disappeared. My heart stuttered to a stop and my breathing hitched. This was worse than when other kids screamed and squealed without any mind to pay attention to their volume. This was worse than when my parents stared at me in disappointment if I did something wrong. 

It wasn’t a bad thing, per se… But my bodily reactions were telling me something different. Thank goodness that I was already seated because if I wasn’t, I would have collapsed into the ground. 

“You’re a lot nicer than most people.” I noticed too late that he was still talking, but my sudden… whatever that was had gone unnoticed. He whistled a short little trill before he played a little with the dog. “Can you teach me how to make one?”

“S-sure!” 

However, our time together was cut short when a girl who was much older than me and Toby peeked through the open doorway. Blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and into the middle of her back, her eyes were a stark grey, but they were filled with amusement and mischief—quite like her brother’s. Waving at me, she greeted us with a small laugh.

“Heya, you two! Time’s up!” A strangled sound permeated the air as Toby’s head fell onto his desk with a force that could have easily caused pain. In shock, I tried to reach out for him to make sure that he hadn’t somehow hurt himself, but a laugh stopped me from doing so.

I looked down in confusion only to find that Toby was looking up at me with a look of mischief before he began to dramatically cry out in pain.

On the other hand, as I looked back at the older girl, I noticed that she looked unfazed. In fact, she seemed exasperated as she regarded Toby’s slumped figure as he moaned about the unfairness of it all. 

As Toby didn’t let up in his melodramatics, she studied the mess of papers that were laying on the desk and onto the little dog that stood cutely in the middle of the chaos. For a second, I thought that she was going to say something about it, but she gestured towards me. 

“I’m Lyra!” She stuck a hand towards me. “You?”

“Magdalena.” 

I shook her hand, hoping that my palm wasn’t too sweaty or clammy. If it was, Lyra gave no indication because as soon as we finished our mutual introductions, she began to address Toby. 

“It’s time for her to go, Tobes.”

“Five more minutes?”

I didn’t say anything, but I looked expectantly at Lyra. I didn’t want to go, but if my parents really wanted to go home, then I didn’t have a choice in the matter. 

To Toby’s apparent displeasure (he slammed his head into his desk again), Lyra shook her head and guided me out of the bedroom.

“Come on, Tobes, you can say goodbye downstairs.”

As a group, we tromped down the stairs and into the foyer. Already, my parents were standing near the doorway, obviously having already finished hashing out whatever they needed to with Mrs. Rogers. As for her, she looked at all of us with a fond smile. Once she saw me, her face lit up and she seemed relieved. 

“Did you have fun, Magdalena?”

I nodded. “I made a dog for Toby. His name is Theodore.”

Her relieved expression gave way to a genuine, heartfelt smile. 

“That’s nice, dear! I’ll be sure to see you on Monday, okay?”

I nodded again as my mother took hold of my shoulder and began to walk out the door. 

“Say goodbye and thank you,” she muttered to me.

“Goodbye and thank you!” I waved at the little family of three.

Chapter Text

Question: 

If you were on good terms with someone and that person thought highly of you (and possibly even thought of you as a daughter), would it be okay to visit that person without notifying them first?

If it were me, I would appreciate some notice, but I was kind of running off adrenaline and mild anger (mostly aimed at myself). My footsteps were loud and heavy on the sidewalk as I trudged towards the one place where I knew that I would be somewhat welcomed. If she was busy, then I would just go and leave, but I hoped that she had some time to let me just bask in her presence. Selfish thoughts, I know, but I couldn’t help it.

Today was just not my day. 

Or rather, it hadn’t been my day for the past two weeks that I had returned from the Philippines. After talking with Leslie from that shop (yes, I actually swallowed my embarrassment and finally had an actual conversation with her) and getting personal interviews from a few other establishments, I hadn’t received an email or a phone call yet. Between my anxiety about getting a job and nagging from my aunt that usually consisted of subtle insults and backhanded compliments, I was always quick about leaving the house and trying to keep my anger from rising to the surface.

Ugh. 

There were some battles that were worth fighting for, but what use was it when all it did was land me in even hotter water than before. As of right now, I was completely reliant on my aunt, but that lifeline was as taut as a rubber band just about to snap. She wouldn't throw me out (at least I hoped so), but I was hoping to rent an apartment soon. Maybe get a roommate or something soon. I don’t know.

Adulting was hard. 

Soon, I faced the set of apartment buildings and entered. 

All too quickly, I faced number twenty-three and with little hesitation, I knocked upon the door with three quick raps. For a moment, silence greeted me like an old friend. Was I too soft? Maybe I should try again just in case…

I raised my fist again, but I stopped myself from carrying out the deed. 

Maybe I was overreacting. All too quickly, all other thoughts began speeding and racing around my head like three year olds piloting bumper cars. Maybe I was being spoiled and petty after getting angry at my aunt. Maybe I should have stood up for myself instead of taking everything for almost two hours before leaving. Maybe I should check in with Leslie and whoever else I contacted. 

I knocked my head against the wooden door and reveled in the slight pain I felt.

It brought clarity.

This was stupid.

I was stupid.

I turned away and—

“Ellie!” 

I winced at the sudden sound before I straightened and saw Mrs. Rogers cross the hallway from the stairs and towards me. In one of her hands, she held a paper bag with some nondescript brand printed on the side. It looked like it shouldn’t weigh too much, but I still offered my assistance all the same. 

“Thanks, Ellie. You’re a saint.” 

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Ro—Connie!” I definitely wasn’t a saint this morning, but now wasn’t the time for self-deprecation. “Were you out shopping?”

Connie swept her brown curls out of her face as she turned her key into the lock. The more I looked at her, it seemed like she was looking a little bit better than she was the last time I had seen her. Her features were still more or less aged, but there was a vitality that I had not witnessed since I had last been in the United States. She was already an attractive woman, but now I could catch a glance of what she must have been like during her prime. 

“No, dear.” She cast a glance at my confused features before gesturing for me to come inside. 

Once I entered the threshold, I hung my coat up and trailed after my former tutor. She placed the bag onto the table and gestured for me to take a look at it. Hesitant, I looked to her, but she just sent me an expectant look to counter my hesitation. Well, if she really wanted me to… I couldn’t possibly say no.

I dug my hand through the paper bag and pulled out a book. It was fairly large and filled with pages that seemed to overflow with pictures, glitter, and stickers plastered over the cover. It was a scrapbook, but I instantly recognized it. 

“Lyra,” I whispered in disbelief. I turned to Mrs. Rogers, my breath hitching in my throat and my hand reflexively tightened over my hold of the scrapbook. “How did… Where?”

I heard the story from Mrs. Rogers back when we communicated via email. She had told me about the accident, the loss of her ex-husband, the fire that consumed the Rogers household. It was a terrifying event that razed everything to the ground. Mrs. Rogers had barely escaped her life, but most of her previous possessions had been burned to ash. The fact that she had Lyra’s old scrapbook had me holding my breath. Perhaps other things could have survived from that disastrous fire. 

As I glanced down at the stickers and pop up foam letters that informed everyone that it was Lyra Rogers’ scrapbook, I noticed that it was pristine. Like nothing, not even time, had touched it. Where did it come from?

Mrs. Rogers laughed a little to herself. “Would you believe that Lyra accidentally left her scrapbook at a friend’s house? It was shortly before the accident and wouldn’t you know? Her old friend, Jennifer Rowle, actually went through some early spring cleaning this year and informed me that she still had some of Lyra’s old stuff. I was supposed to get it a week ago, but well…” She shrugged her frail shoulders and winked at me. “All of you were so close once upon a time. I think you should have it.”

My mouth fell slack and my eyes widened. 

“Mrs. Rogers!”

“Magdalena!” She chided me. “Dear, it’s not that hard to remember my name.” 

She began to head towards the kitchen, a skip in her step, but I was quick to follow her.

“I couldn’t… what about you?” I followed her to the kitchen where she began grabbing things from her refrigerator and some cupboards. I didn’t pay attention to what she was doing, however. Instead, I focused on pleading with her, hoping that she would see reason. 

I was just one of her former students who was really good friends with her kids. I was surprised when she contacted me via email that her family was gone and had left her. I was even more surprised when after sending my initial condolences and heartfelt words, she continued to contact me. Over time, I thought that she would stop talking to me, but she never did. She was my rock whenever school became tough, or when people made fun of me for my accent and awkward behavior. 

She was always there for me in times of need. 

When I had first came up with the idea to leave the Philippines for good, I didn’t think that she would invite me to her home. I thought that our friendship was just a thing that happened to survive online. It had been years since I had last seen her in the flesh, what could she possibly see in me? 

And, when she finally saw me, how would she react?

I was all too different and too much the same as I was back when I was that scared, anxiety ridden kindergartner. 

I was not special.

Why was she giving me one of the last few mementoes she had of her children? 

Sure, I was good friends with both of them—and possibly one of Toby’s only friends in his case—but this was too much.

I just couldn’t understand it.

Mrs. Rogers began cutting up a series of vegetables: lettuce, carrots, tomatoes, the works. There was a hard line settled onto her mouth, and seeds of determination in her eyes. That was the look of a former teacher who knew how to best handle screaming kids who would rather play with blocks instead of recite the alphabet. 

(Not that I would have any personal experience with that, mind you). 

“Why,” I asked. As I leaned against the counter, Mrs. Rogers sighed and stopped chopping her vegetables. “You deserve it more than I do. I’m just—I was…” What was I? That weird little kid who always had time to hang out with Toby? The clingy little girl who looked up to Lyra because she was the big sister that I always wanted? “I’m not the scrapbooking type,” I muttered.

“Hmmm…” Mrs. Rogers hummed under her breath before looking down at me with gentle eyes. Even now, years later, I felt calm and relaxed under her stare. If there was the human equivalent of a teddy bear, she was the one I would picture. “You were special to both of them, Ellie.” She trembled a little as she glanced out the kitchen window, her eyes seemingly a million miles away. 

“You were one of the very few kids who didn’t say anything about his tics; you accepted him from the very first moment you met him. And Lyra… she cared for Toby so much, I think a part of her thought that he would always be alone, but when you always came by on the weekends and during parties, years after we finished tutoring you, she was relieved.” A stray tear made its way down her face, the streak of its descent glistening in the light. 

“I, uh… I actually thought that he was a little weird when we first met,” I mumbled. I took one of the baby carrots that lay on the counter and bit into it. “But he was nice. He didn’t seem to mind that I didn’t know how to talk to people and stuff.” I laughed. “Did he ever tell you the time where I was too scared to go up the stairs in your house because I didn’t know if I should wear shoes or not?”

Mrs. Rogers let out a small chuckle. “Vaguely.”

I chewed slowly on my carrot before heading back towards the table.

“I guess I’ll…” I fingered the sparkly cover of the scrapbook, eager to glance inside. “I’ll let you know if there’s some really good stuff in here that you should keep.”

While I wasn’t the scrapbooking type, I knew that it took some level of dedication and creativity to make one. Lyra, she was always the one who doodled in her notebooks or wrote sappy little poems on the margins of old school assignments. She always kept a few colored pens or markers and a sketchbook wherever she went. The very few times she allowed me to peruse through some pages, I could tell that she had the skill to pursue a career in art or something similar. 

As I glanced at the colored pages, I noted all the pictures. There were many pictures that had Lyra playing or laughing with some of her friends in high school. She always seemed so happy, so free… I skimmed over those photos. I wasn’t interested in those. 

It was the other pictures that seemed to lack the vitality and the excitement that the other photos held. There were photos of Toby and I making origami animals, of all of us hanging around one of the playgrounds that were close by. Sometimes, Lyra would join us in those photos, but most of the time, it seemed that she enjoyed taking pictures of us while we weren’t expecting it. 

In one, there was a picture where I was throwing a water balloon at Toby’s head. Underneath that photo, there was another moment that looked like it was the direct follow up to its predecessor: I was getting tackled and tickled by Toby in his pursuit of revenge. 

I must have let out a laugh or something because I heard Mrs. Rogers’ voice calling out to me. “See something you like?”

I glanced down at the caption below: Toby’s Eleventh Birthday Assassination Attempt .

“Apparently, there was an assassination attempt during Toby’s birthday.” Something thudded to the ground. A quick glance into the kitchen informed me that Mrs. Rogers had dropped a tomato onto the ground. “Yeah, it was that one and only time you allowed us to fill water balloons inside.”

Mrs. Rogers, emerging from the kitchen with two plates of salad in hand, immediately made a beeline towards me and the scrapbook. 

“Ah, I remember now!” She pointed at the picture where I was attacking Toby. “I was very surprised that you would be the one instigating that little water war. I would have thought it would have been Toby, not you!”

I laughed despite myself, a faint blush warming my cheeks. 

“We were both troublemakers growing up… ‘Sides… He was the one who started it.” 

Mrs. Rogers playfully slapped my arm. 

“Now, now, Ellie. No need to bring up past transgressions.” She ushered me into one of the chairs and gestured towards the salad that sat tantalizingly in front of me. 

As I sat myself down in front of the salad, Mrs. Rogers flipped through some of the pages, mumbling comments like “ Lyra used to hang out with Sarah Colins all the time ”, “ that sweater looks horrible !”, and “ this photo looks like something out of a nature documentary ”. Finally, after what seemed like a few minutes of taking stock of her daughter’s scrapbook, she turned to me, a serious expression on her face.

“Ellie, are you all right?” 

One of my best strengths, I believe, is that I could easily evade any and all questions by busying myself with something else. Chewing on a carrot was ultimately my best defense and offense, but like always, Mrs. Rogers saw through that. 

“You can tell me.”

I shrugged, not wanting to delve deep into the issue that had been plaguing me ever since I arrived back in the States.

She placed one of her hands on my arm, a concerned expression on her face. 

“I know that you don’t like expressing yourself, what with all the pressure you’ve had in the past, but you’re free to talk to me whenever you like.” Her warm eyes looked at me—really looked at me. It was one of those cheesy times where I could literally say that she was looking through me, practically looking through my soul. “What’s wrong? Please tell me, I couldn’t live with myself if it turned out that you were going through some things that I could have easily helped you with.”

I swallowed the tiny bits of carrot that I had in my mouth before contemplating. There was a reason why I had come here, yes, but now that the topic was broached… I didn’t want to do away with the warm comforting presence that she was exuding. What if telling her about my predicament, of how I felt about this situation was akin to complaining? I didn’t want to make it seem like my aunt was a villain or that my family wasn’t the most supportive people in the world… 

But, I was hurting. 

I was hurting and I needed someone to help me.

Even if that help was the equivalent of pasting a bandaid on a gaping wound, I would make the most of it. 

As I focused on a particularly dark piece of lettuce, I readied my thoughts. Steadied my breaths. And said—

“Do you know if there’s some job openings available?” 

Maybe I spoke too fast or maybe I had slipped into another language because her brows flew up to her scalp at the speed of light. She canted her head to the side and she looked at me quizzically, like maybe if she stared at me hard enough, she could honestly hope to see right through all my lies… even though if I had never—technically—lied. 

I continued, thinking that if I gave her more information, it would help ease her mind. “You know… I’m back and all, don’t really have plans to go back to school yet, so why not? It’s been almost two weeks and I’ve been around town and stuff and, er…” I ducked my head, not willing to admit that I had little to no luck with job offerings. 

“Dear, it’s been only two weeks… Things like this take time, especially with today’s day and age… what with the economy being in shambles…” She took a sip of some of her water that lay next to her plate of salad before making a slight humming noise. It was the same humming noise she made whenever I had asked a question during the time she had tutored me as a child. All at once, the feeling of nostalgia and sadness filled me. 

Those were some good times back then.

It was just too bad that this picture perfect image of us eating could never be completed without the other two members. 

Two members of the picture that could never come back.

Abruptly, I was pulled out of my thoughts when I saw Mrs. Rogers pull out her cell phone from her pocket. To my surprise, it was one of the newer models. She was never one for the so-called “digital toys of the newer generation”, but it seemed that she had changed her tune when I was away. Regardless, she must have seen the small smirk I made because she made a small clicking noise with her tongue and made a joking reprimand of, “Oh, hush you!”

She must have been scrolling through her contacts because she made a small “aha!” sound and decisively tapped her index finger on something. Faintly, I could hear the sound of a phone ringing once.

Twice.

And finally—

“David!” I shot her a worried glance; for a woman who looked like there was an eternal air of melancholy about her, she seemed all too enthusiastic in talking to this person. I could barely make out the sound of a young man replying with a fraction of the same enthusiasm Mrs. Rogers spoke with. “Hey, I was just wondering… you still have the graveyard shift open at your place? I know it’s a bit unorthodox, but I have a beautiful, young lady here—“

It was at that point I practically buried my face into my salad, not wanting to hear more. Unfortunately, I neglected to cover my ears because I could hear what sounded like a joking banter going back and forth between two people. It was a bit embarrassing, but whatever. If this could actually be the one thing to get me a job for real (even if it was something that was supposed to be during the graveyard shift), then I was willing for this impromptu little conversation to work.

I mean… it was unorthodox and a bit forceful, but I wasn’t complaining. 

And then—

“—yeah, she’s right here, actually!”

My vision was thus obscured by Mrs. Rogers phone. I could barely make out the name David Gonzalez before I placed the phone near my ear. All at once, I was bombarded with the sound of static and rustling noises. Where was this guy located? Was he out near the boonies or something? Why was his phone reception so bad? Before I could think about it further, I found myself eeking out a small “Hello?”

“Heya, Maggie! Remember me?”

Huh… I definitely remember how annoying that stupid nickname was, but I can’t say I can place where that voice came from. Was he some long lost relative or something? Who was he?

“Old classmate, I guess?” I was shooting in the dark and I was not happy to note that I didn’t like how that felt. It was terrible not knowing something that I should. “Sorry, I can’t say that your name rings a bell.”

He chuckled, the sound was rich and mellow. The static, if possible seemed to fade, but was brought back full force as the sound of rustling clothes reverberated into the phone. 

His voice crackled into the phone, reminiscent of the way a voice would sound through an old walkie talkie. Seriously, why was the connection so terrible?

“We used to hang out during recess a lot back in middle school. We also had that.. what was it called? We once dissected a cow heart in science class and some of the liquid from the heart hit your goggles. It was hilarious.”

Oh. 

Now that he mentioned it, I definitely remembered that incident. It was nearing the end of the semester, just a few days shy of summer break. Because of that, we were on the last few dregs of whatever subject matter our science teacher wanted to shove down our throats. We were supposed to dissect owl pellets, but for some odd reason, Ms. Nielson managed to gather fifteen cow hearts for our dissection. 

Were we qualified to make incisions and correctly identify parts? Hell no. 

Did we have fun? Well, getting hit square in the goggles with fermented cow juice was definitely the highlight of my eighth grade year, so why not? 

Besides, now that the memory made itself known to me, I distinctly remembered a boy who was a few inches shorter than me, a feat that was made nearly impossible by the fact that I was already the shortest person in the class before he moved from Illinois earlier that year. 

You would think that a kid like him would get picked on for his height, but he had a good sense of humor. He was often seen hanging out with the rest of the guys and I heard from the grapevine that some of the girls in our year and some below us that he had quite the female following. 

With his curly hair and slight accent, I could see why. 

Despite that, I never thought much of him. It wasn’t until we were paired for several assignments that I realized that he had one of the best handwriting I had ever seen in a guy and that he was proficient in science and math, whereas I excelled in English and social studies. We complemented each other and whenever we were allowed to choose partners, we naturally gravitated to each other. 

We were close as partners, but I never hung out with him outside of school. 

It didn’t help that after eighth grade ended, I was shipped off to the Philippines. 

“Oh, I remember that!” I couldn’t help myself, a wide smile split my face, while Mrs. Rogers returned it in kind. When I shot her a pained glance, she rolled her eyes before busying herself with her salad. “Yeah, didn’t we get a… shoot, I should know this, I was super proud of our score. I’d like to say a ninety six out of one-hundred?”

“Shoot, Maggie—”

“Can-can you call me Ellie? I think,” I wracked my brain for something cool to say. “I think Ellie is a much better name.”

Much to my relief, he didn’t sound put out. He seemed genuinely happy to hear from me again even though it had been years since I had even thought about him, much less talked to him. 

“Well, then, Ellie, I’m not sure I can accept your employment if you’re going senile already.” He breathed out a small laugh before continuing, “We got a freaking ninety-eight. Highest in the class.”

Well now, that was a score I could only hope to aspire to in recent years. Being a med student was hard enough even if you were passionate about the vocation. 

It became a punishment sent from the Greek myths of old if you were like me—coerced to become a doctor just because. 

“Oh…” I whispered into the phone. Please tell me that was a joke! I’m not sure what I would do if this grand opportunity was to slip me by if he just happened to say something and I had misinterpreted it without having a proper chance at this job! “Er…”

The phone must have been jostled or something because there was even more rustling movement on his side. Not for the first time, I wondered what he was doing. 

“Relax, Ma-Ellie! Chill, dude, I got your back.” He made a soft humming noise before he spoke once again. “Anyway, I’m free this evening after my shift is over. I can interview you then and if you seem A-okay to me, then I’ll run you by my boss. Sounds good?”

“S-sure!” Not exactly believing my luck, I almost missed out on the information that he gave: that is, the meeting place and the time. “But… is an informal interview standard protocol? You sure you don’t want to make this more…” I thought of a word that would fit this conversation. “Official?”

“Shoot, Ellie! Nah, it’s a mom and pop business. Boss man doesn’t do formal so long as you’re trustworthy and nice.”

“I guess… that sounds reasonable?”

“Glad to hear it!”

After agreeing to meet up at a halfway point between the job and where my aunt lived (it was at some local fast food place) at around seven, I bid him goodbye.

Pressing the red ‘end’ button, I turned to Mrs. Rogers with a look of utter appreciation and happiness. 

“Do you think—“

“That you might get the job?” She shrugged, but the light in her eyes said otherwise. “If you can handle the graveyard shift or haggle your way into a better schedule, I’d say you’re golden.”

I laughed despite myself and grabbed a piece of lettuce from my plate. I played a little with the vegetable before saying, “Thanks.”

Chapter Text

It was getting late, but the faint golden glow of the dying sun aided me in navigating the familiar streets of my childhood town. After my impromptu visit to Mrs. Rogers’ apartment, I made my way back to my aunt’s house. It was there that I informed Tita Chona about the meeting. To my relief, she congratulated me on this opportunity, but also made sure to tell me to be more confident and outgoing to make sure that I actually stuck to the landing. 

I thanked her, stuttering all the while, before making sure that I had enough money in my wallet and a folder that included a resume and reference letters should David require them. He might not have said that they were important enough for this unorthodox interview, but I wanted to be ready and held to a standard so that I had a better chance of getting chosen for the job. 

After that, I made my way to the rendezvous point. 

It was a neat little joint, not too shabby, but nothing that you would find from an international franchise or a recognizable brand. Instead of entering, I just hung around the place first. It wasn’t exactly time for the meeting—really, I had arrived a half hour earlier than I had to, but I wanted to just relax and review what I could say that could make myself more… enticing.

Was that weird? Was I being weird?

Good gosh, was I making this weird? 

As I watched the rays of the sun turn more and more umber in color, I felt rather than saw the gaze of a person behind me. Suspicious—and just about ready to run into the joint if I had to—I slowly turned around and found myself facing a young man. 

He was lanky and had slightly wavy hair that was swept over to the side. His clothing, while nondescript and not branded, was colored in soft hues and hung from his frame like he had bought them two sizes larger than he had to. When he noticed that I was looking specifically at him, he waved a hesitant hand at me and called out.

“Mag-Ellie?” His voice cracked, a fact that was obvious when he winced and shrunk a little into himself before he called out again. “Ellie Robles? Scientist extraordinaire?” 

“I, uh, I wouldn’t say that, but… you definitely got the right person.” I made my way towards him and held out my hand. “Magdalena Robles, but you already knew that. Obviously.”

He took my hand in one of his own—they were clammy and sweaty—and shook it firmly. 

“David Gonzalez.” He eyed me for a second and for one moment, I thought that my interview had begun, that maybe this was all a test, but a grin broke out across his face. “Let’s go inside. You ever had a garbage plate?”

“W-what the—“

Without even waiting for my protests, he whisked me inside and got ourselves a booth.

Once our waitress left us our menus, David immediately began talking to me. He recommended the aforementioned “garbage plate” (that actually looked enticing once I looked into it), burritos, pizza, and whatever else seemed to define the fast food industry in America. Basically, everything was supposed to be cheap, greasy, and all American somehow had been mashed together in a hodgepodge of a menu. 

I immediately loved it.

“I guess I’ll take your word for it.” I snapped the menu closed and took a sip of the water that the waitress left for us. “Garbage plate it is.”

I swear, the look that David gave me could power an entire city for a year.  If we weren’t surrounded by families and couples who were already digging into their meals, he probably would have whooped and hollered. For some odd reason, he gave me the vibes one would associate with excitable children being told that Santa had delivered their presents early that year. 

“Nice! Let’s see… guess I’ll have a burrito and a side of fries.”

The waitress took note of our orders and whisked herself back into the kitchen. David and I then engaged into light, easy conversation. Apparently, he didn’t know that I had gone to the Philippines or that I had moved out of the country. In fact, he thought that I had gone to some other high school in another district or something. 

“I’m pretty sure I told you that I was moving away!” I took another sip of water before leveling him with a bemused look. “Yeesh, David, I thought we were friends.”

“Were we, really?”

For a moment, we stared at each other.

Then, without prompting, both of us burst into laughter. All the pressures and stresses of the past few weeks seemed to melt away, the thoughts of having an awkward evening seemed to fly out the window. Why did I think that I was going to be suffering some mental breakdown? David was a nice guy, talkative, and informative. 

Turns out that some acquaintances of mine had gone to the same high school as he did. Furthermore, he recounted some stories that he claimed were true. Ha! Apparently, someone had managed to hack into the school’s mainframe or something and managed to change several English grades. The culprit was caught and had been expelled from school. Another story consisted of some weird student who would dump dog feces into one of the male bathrooms. No one was ever caught and even though years had passed, the tale of the “Phantom Shitter” still remained.  

I nearly choked on my water at that one. 

“T-that sounds so-so—“ I didn’t have to finish my sentence. My laughter spoke for me. 

“I know, right? High school was hella weird. Boring, but weird.” He turned to me, a look of curiosity on his face. “You?”

I shrugged, not wanting to get into my life in the Philippines. However, I knew that it was inevitable. For all intents and purposes, I was new. A foreigner in a strange land that I once knew. 

“I was in a Catholic all girls high school, actually. There’s nothing much to it.” I emptied my water and found myself wishing that there was more of it so I could have the excuse to look at it instead of at David. “Different groups, different people, all of them completely and utterly Filipino.”

I shot him a bitter smile, one that he caught with a sympathetic wince. 

Out of all my friends back in school, he was one of the few that I talked to on a regular basis. Of course, I had Lyra and Toby, but they didn’t count. They didn’t go to school with me. 

He leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands in front of his face. 

“Damn, you okay?”

“Ah, er… yeah! When I attended college, I managed to break out of my shell a little bit and well…” I shrugged, but smiled a smile that was full of nostalgia. “I wouldn’t be surprised if I come back home to millions of messages from them. I haven’t spoken to them in a couple days.”

David nodded to himself. 

“Good to hear. You were always one of those kids that liked to hang by themselves, which is kind of fitting for the job, actually.”

I blinked at that segue. 

That was odd to say the least. 

Whatever, now it was time to get to the heart of the matter. 

“Yeah, Connie told me that it was some kind of convenience store?” I leaned my head against the heel of my palm as I studied him. 

“Yessir! Susie Clements—I think you know her—needed some kind of mental health vacation or something. Gave us her two weeks’ notice a couple days ago. We were going to post a help wanted sign soon, but hey! Connie’s an angel.”

At that point, we were served our respective meals. As the waitress refilled our glasses of water, I studied my garbage plate. Wow, American serving sizes either increased over the past ten years or so, or I had spent way too much time subsisting on Filipino food. Whatever the case, I knew that I was going to be eating a fourth of the garbage plate and taking the rest home for tomorrow’s leftovers. Hopefully Tita Chona liked… whatever was in the garbage plate. 

“How do you know, Connie by the way? She always stops by the convenience store whenever she needs a quick pick me up.”

I pursed my lips as I thought about what I should tell him. It had been years since I had been tutored and I wasn’t embarrassed by the fact that I was such a slow reader back then, but it was personal. It was like I was revealing too much of myself in one go. To be honest, it was nice reconnecting to David and all, but it had been almost ten years. People change and for all intents and purposes, we were only a stone’s throw away from being strangers. 

Still, I had to be polite.

And what harm could it do?

I steeled myself and picked a little at my food. 

“Ah… did you know that she used to work as a tutor for kids? I didn’t know how to read that well back in kindergarten, so for a couple months, I had to go to her house and get tutored. By her. Fun times.” The next bite of my garbage plate was definitely twice the mouthful than what should have been put in my mouth, but I needed something to distract me. 

Gah, this was embarrassing!

I peeked up at him when I gathered up the courage to do so and found that he was looking at me in realization. 

He snapped his fingers and, while his mouth was positively overflowing with food (trust me, the mental image is not as bad as the real thing), he practically shouted, “You were friends with the Rogers kid!”

I nodded. 

“Yeah. Both of them.”

“But like… the homeschooled one—Gary? Tony?—he went off the deep end after his sister died, right?” He leaned his chin onto the flesh of his inner palm and scrutinized me with eyes that… that looked like he either knew way too much about me or was dissecting me so that he could find out more about myself. “Lyra… she was a good kid, you know.”

I nodded hesitantly.

“David, they both were good kids.”

He made a soft scoffing noise before glancing away from me. 

Shrugging, he continued, “Like, I get that you were close to them, but you’re probably biased. No one just drops off the deep end like that without… I don’t know something happening to them or some sort of gradual development.” He looked at me, eyes glinting, “Maybe you were too blind to see that Toby had something going on in that brain of his!”

And then he had the audacity to laugh. 

Don’t get me wrong, there was something enthralling when speaking to someone who poured every ounce of their being into speaking and listening to someone. It was nice to pretend that I wasn’t some awkward baby adult who was practically bathing in disappointment and lost dreams. However, call it loyalty or basic decency, but there was a difference between fanboying over the latest movie and acting like a total jerk about someone’s friend. 

I don’t know the full story of how the Rogers household fell apart and maybe I never will. 

I don’t care about that. If Mrs. Rogers wanted to reveal everything to me, then she was more than welcome to. If she didn’t, then I was glad for her friendship and maternal affection that she always offered me. 

“I, uh… I don’t think—“ 

Before you ask, yes, I was trying to defend the good name of the Rogers family. 

Did I succeed?

“You know they never found his body, right? A lot of people have said that he killed his old man and left his mother behind. Well, not until he burned that house of theirs to a crisp.” He took a big bite out of his burrito and hastily swallowed. “Did he ever have those tendencies of his when you were still around?”

Nope. Did not succeed.

“T-tendencies?” Did I sound enraged as I felt? “David, no one knows what happened that night, so let’s not talk about, okay?” The angrier I felt, the more my words began to slur and slap into each other. It was getting harder and harder to enunciate, for me to concentrate and calm down. 

“Ah, come o—“

My fork clattered onto the plate. 

“J-just, please.” The bite of my tone was probably tempered by the fact that it cracked a little, but it seemed to drag him out of whatever it was he was going through. As he chewed through his burrito, a lot slower and less animistic this time, I asked, “So… about the job?”

All hard feelings must have dissipated because he automatically swallowed and began gesturing wildly. 

“Yeah, where was I? I told you about the deal with Susie, right?”

I nodded. Mood swings. Did David have mood swings back when we were kids?

“Yeah, anyway, someone needs to cover her shift. You up for it?”

“The graveyard one, right? That’s like… what, midnight to eight?”

He pointed finger guns at me with a megawatt smile.

“Got it one go! You have some experience with manning cashiers and being friendly to customers?”

All too well.

“I did some work as a cashier at a local McDonalds.”

His eyes bulged open. “You guys have—“

“McDonalds is well known internationally, David. If there’s one thing you should know about the Philippines, Filipinos happen to really like emulating other cultures.” I bit the inside of my cheek, unused to how I spoke without stuttering or overthinking myself. It was strange; it was like the anger from earlier was still there. Like an old bloodstain that needed more scrubbing to wash out. “Is that enough experience?”

He thought for a moment before nodding slowly. 

“Probably, yeah. Still, it’s kind of policy that we have someone show you the ropes before you officially start. If you want, you can come on by tomorrow’s shift and we’ll have Susie settle you in.”

This was so easy! Was this it?

“What about your boss?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll let him know. He’s more of a hands off kind of guy, you feel? As long as we don’t steal stuff and I don’t know… commit murder while on the clock, he doesn’t really care. He’s pretty chill.”

Well, then.

A thought occurred to me.

“H-has anyone else applied for the job? Are you really sure that I would be qualified for this?”

An easy smile spread on his face as he took in my worried expression.

“Geeze, you always worry too much. Think about it like this: it’s like a babysitting job. Very few people come visit the store during that shift and you’re practically paid to do nothing. Anyone can do it, it’s just the matter of actually doing it. So,” he took a sip of water, “you in?”

What did I have to lose?

It was just a convenience store. 

And yes, I was absolutely going to ignore the fact that this entire set up was too convenient. 

Chapter Text

“Huh, okay. That’s neat.” 

Susie Clements flipped through her manga with a disinterested glance as she examined me. Her eyes, dark brown almost black under the light of the harsh fluorescence, probed me with the intensity of a scientist observing a particularly new specimen. When I had met her, she had been leaning against the counter of the cashier area, her lips pursed into a thin line and her brows furrowed with something akin to distaste.

I couldn’t blame her.

The convenience store was located at a corner of a busy street. The harsh lighting of its sign flickered every so often, signaling that the store was somewhat old and in need of some repairs. Walking in, I noticed that it was just like any other convenience store. 

Shelves boasted an array of junk food. The refrigerators were stocked with a vast array of water bottles, beer, and whatever beverages people could hope to have. 

“Yeah, so it’s just this…?” I gestured to her and the rest of the establishment. Instead of deigning me with a glance or something to ensure that she somewhat acknowledged my existence, she grunted. 

“So, er… you’re not going to show me around or…”

She rolled her eyes and began listing all the things that I was supposed to do.

Namely just man the cashier and stay in the store for the entire shift. 

“So…”

“Look, Maggie—“

I opened my mouth to stutter out a response, but she beat me to it.

“No, don’t talk.” She decisively flipped another page in her manga, the image of a cat girl transforming back into a young adolescent adorning the spread. “This job is boring as all hell and any toddler can do this. So you can leave and I don’t know… live life or whatever.”

She finished by hunching over the counter, her dark eyes fixed to the manga as if her life depended on it. 

You would think that I would have found her attitude disheartening and downright terrible. 

Surprisingly, Susie Clements wasn’t the most unpleasant person I’ve ever met. If I could even describe her actions as being unpleasant. I may not know much about her, but David did say something about her needing a mental break or something. 

Perhaps stress was getting to her. 

Maybe it was school. 

Perhaps it was pressure from family. 

(I… I could relate). 

Maybe it was something else. 

Regardless, I took her behavior in stride.

It was what I would have wanted growing up.

That, and empathy.

Instead of leaving, I leaned against the counter and tried to smile at her with what I assumed was one of my most disarming smiles that I could summon. One peek over the pages of her manga and she looked like she was about to kick me out of the store. I nearly jumped back at the ferocity in her stare, but I held my ground. 

It wouldn’t do to leave too early in the shift and I wanted to get to know her a little bit better. If not to learn more about my job through secondhand experience, then to at least make her last few shifts a little more bearable.

If that didn’t work, then I would leave.

My voice, hesitant and soft, managed to leave my mouth without a hint of a stutter. “Can you at least tell me some things that happened here? Like, is it worth working here or something like that?”

Obviously not. There were probably more jobs that were better paying and less likely to assign you to the graveyard shift on the get go. Still, I was mildly curious. Maybe she could even elaborate on the reason why she decided to quit.

Silence. 

Not surprising.

But very, very disappointing.

She flipped a page with a little more force than was necessary and continued reading. 

“Look, I know that you probably won’t see me again, but I’m honestly curious. Are there some things I should worry about? Late night regulars, um, er…”

Finally, after I had stopped rambling, Susie’s cool gaze seemed to stare deep into the depths of my soul. I didn’t notice that her eyes were so piercing before. Her deep brown eyes seemed to stand out against her equally dark features. In fact, as her eyes narrowed at me in what I thought to be annoyance or anger, I found that they seemed to glimmer faintly under the harsh lights. 

“Maggie,” her voice was stern, but there was something more to it. Almost as if she was going to say something that was important. I leaned in closer to show that I was listening, but there was a subtle change in her features. The way her jaw clenched, the hold on her manga seemed to tighten and crinkle the pages. Even her regal brown eyes, so aloof and uncaring, seemed to be in conflict. 

There was something more at play here.

I bet that something directly correlated with why she was leaving her job.

Would she tell me?

Finally, after what seemed like a while, her features calmed and the hold on her manga loosened until she let it lay flat onto the counter. Curious, I happened to glance at it and saw that the cat girl from earlier was replaced with another cheesy nineties era shoujo thing—sparkles and ridiculously skinny women included. She cleared her throat and I raised my head so fast, I could have given myself whiplash. 

For the first time since I had met her that night, she didn’t look at me like she wished that I would take the hint and leave. No, she looked at me with an emotion that I didn’t think to associate with her because she seemed so sure and confident with herself.

It was fear.

But, what was she afraid of?

She paused for a second and averted her gaze. For some odd reason, she turned her eyes towards the front of the store. I, too, happened to take a look. There was nothing peculiar about it. Just a bunch of display cases filled with whatever goodies that anyone with a craving for diabetes could ever want and the entrance that had a bell hung near it to alert the employees of potential customers. 

When she spoke, I turned towards her.

She toyed with the pages of her manga, but kept her eyes focused on me. “How long have you known David?”

“N-not long enough, actually. We were partners for science a lot during eighth grade, but we haven’t spoken in years. In fact, we only just reunited a few days ago.” 

She nodded her head as I supplied her with information. 

“Look, I don’t usually bad mouth people—” I don’t know, from the way she acted towards me, it looks like she does. “—but David isn’t… he’s…” 

A frustrated frown pulled down the edges of her lips, a look of consternation present on her face. Her fingers continuously pulled at the pages in her manga; I could see that her thoughts were racing in her head. What did she want to tell me? What was so important about David?

Before I could interject, she sighed and looked me straight in the eyes.

“Don’t trust David. Don’t go anywhere with him.” 

What? 

An incredulous expression must have been on my face because she immediately went on the defensive.

“Don’t look at me like that! He’s bad news and—”

My mouth ran faster than my mind could think. 

“Is he the reason why you’re leaving? S-should I call someone—“

You would think that a headstrong person like Susie would have been over the moon and back just so that she could tell someone in power about this, but she emphatically shook her head. I noticed that the fear in her eyes had become even more apparent. There was something more to the story than what she was telling me, but what it could be? Had he done something to her? Was I getting involved in business that I should have known better than to question in the first place? 

Or was she blowing everything out of proportion?

I knew next to nothing about these two people. 

David seemed like an okay guy (and that was not including the fact that I had known him when we were still kids) despite his malicious animosity towards Toby. 

I had only met Susie today. 

Who was I to believe? 

“No. It’s—I tried and—” Suddenly, her eyes went wide as she faced the front of the store. Her eyes were tracking something, something that was moving. However, when I also turned my face to check whatever she was doing, I found nothing other than the sight of an old pick up truck puttering along the street and out of view. “I…”

Concerned at her lack of speech, I turned away from the window. She was clutching her dark brown curls in both of her fists, her eyes cast down unseeingly at the manga that still lay on the counter. Breaths, harsh and loud against the stillness of the store, were heaved with so much force, her frame seemed to rattle and shake with every breath she took. 

Oh no.

“No, no, no,” I muttered as I rounded the corner of the counter. As I approached Susie, I noted that she had squeezed her eyes tight and that she was muttering something under her breath. I could barely make out a “ he’s here he’s here he’s here ” before I hesitantly placed my hand on her shoulder and rubbed circles between the blades of her back. 

Try as I might to comfort her, she thrashed with such force, I found myself stumbling backward. If she had not been in the throes of what I thought to be a panic attack, I could believe that she had enough strength to shove me onto my back without a second thought. 

Tears streamed down her darkened cheeks, her eyes still squeezed shut and hands still pulling frantically at her hair. Her mutters were steadily becoming louder. It was like listening to a chant in church, but instead of rote boredom, I was filled with dread and my own heightening anxiety. 

“Susie,” I whispered. I crept forward, careful not to touch her. “Susie, you’re fine. You’re here with me. Just breathe, please, just breathe.” What was I supposed to do with someone in a panic attack? I may have experienced a few, but I was always alone… How could I possibly hope to help someone when I couldn’t or didn’t have the experience to help myself?

Her cries were louder still. 

“Susie! Susie!” I wracked my brain for what to do. Whenever I was having one of these episodes, I always felt my mind race and my thoughts begin to multiply along with rising anxiety and tension. What was the best way to get rid of such tension? 

I needed…

A distraction!

Positioning myself in front of her, I said, in the loudest and most teacher-like voice that I could muster and said, “What is the symbol for nickel in the periodic elements?”

There was no answer other than a startled scream leaving her throat. 

That was okay. I could try again.

For the next few minutes, I quizzed her on the different symbols for elements. As soon as I began running out of the basic elements and began wracking my brain on the actinides, her cries grew quieter and she slowly answered in earnest.

“Helium?”

“H…e.”

“Molybdenum?”

“…what are you, s-s-some kind of n-nerd?”

I shrugged my shoulders and leaned against the counter. During the whole encounter, my back was ramrod straight and my shoulders tense. As I relaxed, I found that my muscles were protesting from the sudden and prolonged tensing of aforementioned muscles.

“I’m not the one reading manga when I should be working.”

She rolled her eyes at me while she surreptitiously wiped away the tears that still stained her pretty face. 

“I told you already,” she rasped, “it gets boring.”

“So you said.” I stared up at the ceiling, which kind of burned my retinas a little because I found myself having a one on one confrontation with the lights. However, it was a noble sacrifice. After a minute of doing that, I looked back at Susie and found that while her face was noticeably still puffy and ruddy (especially around the eyes), she had the gravitas that told everyone around her that she was still in command and in control. 

Cool. 

I wish I could be like that one day.

“So…” I drummed my fingers up and down the keys of the cash register, belatedly noticing that I was on the wrong side of the counter. Still, I stood there. I had to make sure that Susie was okay. “You, um, you didn’t like chemistry as a kid?’

At that, a hysterical laugh left her lips at a volume that startled me. 

“Y-you’re—” She slumped over the counter as nonsensical giggles still reverberated through her frame. “—you’re hilarious, you know that? What kind of person asks that after something like this?” She raised her head and gestured at herself, her grey eyes appraising me with what appeared to be like newfound respect. 

I shifted uncomfortably and tugged one of my locks of hair as I thought about giving her an answer. 

“Um… I didn’t want to pry. I just…” I stuffed my hands into my pockets and tried to give her a reassuring, if apologetic glance. “I shouldn’t have asked why you left in the first place. I was curious and didn’t know any better. I’m sorry.”

At that, her face softened and that newfound respect in her eyes seemed to grow tenfold. 

“Hey, um… I guess since you’re apologizing I should do the same.” She paused, rubbing the back of her neck with what appeared to be soothing, relaxing circles into the muscle. “I haven’t been myself for the past few weeks, months even. I know that shouldn’t be an excuse, but I’m usually not like this. But yes,” she looked at me with confirmation in her eyes, “I am leaving this job mainly because of my deteriorating mental health and David…” She coughed lightly into the juncture of her elbow, the sound of which sounded too hoarse and raspy. That panic attack must have done a number on her. “David is— was — a nice guy, but there’s more to him than that.”

Suddenly, she grasped one of my wrists and brought me close to her. Even though she had been seated behind the counter, she still towered over me by a few good inches. 

“Something tells me that you’re a good kid. The kind of kid that likes to follow orders and never questions authority, right?”

Wow. There was no need to call me out like this, but she was the one who had the panic attack, so I guess it was justified. Maybe she needed to re-assert her dominance or something. 

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

“Good.” The hold on my wrist grew tighter. If there was a bruise on my wrist, I knew that it was going to be because of her. “Promise me, Maggie, you will never go into the woods alone with David. Never. Do you hear me?”

The woods? David? I wasn’t the type of person to go out hiking in the woods, so why—?

My wrist ached horribly as Susie continued to apply pressure.

“S-sure!” I squeaked. “Don’t go into the woods with David. Got it. Anything else?”

She released my wrist. The look on her face terrified me. There was something like pity in her eyes. As if she knew that fate had something else in store for me and that her warning would go unheeded. 

Whatever. I’ve rarely gone into the woods as a child and it wasn’t as if I was aching to go anyway. 

Susie turned back to her manga and turned a page.

“No. Just be sure to be on time for tomorrow. I’ll supervise you or whatever and then you can be here full time.”

Chapter Text

Have you ever decided to just take a walk outside and go somewhere you used to frequent as a child but never went back to as an adult? Have you ever lusted after the past and basked in waves of overwhelming nostalgia? Well, if you haven’t, you probably should. Some places that used to be there as a child might not last long. 

Sometimes, places just don’t exist anymore or have evolved from their original charm.

After a quiet dinner with my aunt, I had elected to go out and walk to an old children’s park. As you can probably imagine, not a lot of children were there, what with the evening hours setting in. 

As I walked past the sidewalk adjacent to the playground and into the premises, I was struck by how small everything looked. What used to be the one of the biggest structures that used to scare me as a child seemed frail. 

Ancient. 

Relics from a forgotten past.

As I wandered, I took note of the swings. One of the swing’s chains was rusted. The other swing hung from one chain, the other was nowhere to be seen. I glanced up to where the chain should have been, only to find that the hook and the remainder of the chain was gone. 

As an experiment, I sat down on the only swing that looked like it was almost safe, and felt it creak and protest under my weight. Realizing that I could probably be ruining what was essentially public property, I immediately jumped off and wandered towards the jungle gym and the slides. 

I ducked through a small archway and climbed up. Under the dying light of the setting sun, I managed to catch sight of some graffiti. Some kid named Mark probably loved a girl named Lettie. Another person wrote a few words that most parents wouldn’t let their children learn, let alone write along the sides of the inside of a slide. 

My feet clanged on the metal platform before I prepared myself for what used to be my favorite part of the playground. 

The monkey bars. 

I climbed up and sat on top of the bars that overlooked the rest of the playground. 

When I was younger, I wouldn’t climb the monkey bars, I would just sit on top of them and watch other kids run around and have fun. As I reminisced on those days when the heat on the slides would practically burn the backs of my legs and how the sand from the sandbox would get inside my shoes, I found myself facing the forest. 

That’s right. I almost forgot.

The playground was adjacent to a small tennis and basketball court. However, there was also an area that was heavily wooded, but had a path that people could stroll through. Most kids I knew who were old enough, would walk through there and comment on how boring it was. 

Just a bunch of trees, they would say. Lots of insects, a lot of dirt, and not much else. 

When I was a kid, before my parents began to think I was actually a good for nothing, my parents and I would go to forest reserves and take a walk through the predetermined paths hikers or casual strollers would go through. The playground was sort of like that, but a bit more smaller and more open so as to make sure that small children wouldn’t accidentally get lost. 

Nowadays, I could see that the wooded area hadn’t changed as much. I mean, it looked ominous in the low light of the approaching evening. 

Still, I wondered.

It wouldn’t matter too much if I had a couple minute stroll. I had my phone with me and it had been a while since I had been in that area. I swung my legs over the side and braced myself for the jump. After I recovered from impact, I jogged lightly into the start of the pathway. 

Up close, you can tell that path was worn from previous footsteps and travelers. To the side of the beginning of the path, there was a map that detailed the different routes and the rules for going on a little hike. As always, leave no trace behind and whatnot. 

I held my phone steadily in my hand should I have the need for light and walked forward. I wasn’t conscious of it at the time, but I assumed that I was going to walk for at least ten minutes just to get myself lost in the feeling of being somewhere new. 

Have you ever walked in the woods before when it was slowly getting dark? Was it scary? Unnerving? 

I imagine it must be for a lot of people. At the back of mind, I had a niggling sense that I should turn back and come back when it wasn’t so dark, but I kept moving forward. 

My steps were slow and steady, always stirring a random leaf or stick. I wasn’t trying to be quiet and found that my constant noise was a source of comfort for me. Up ahead, there was a fork in the path. Hmm…

This reminded me of that one poem by Robert Frost.

Both paths were well worn and it had been years since I had last walked this way. Had I taken a right or a left? Or had I explored both at one point?

I tried to think more about paths and hiking, but found myself assaulted by a sudden headache. I rubbed my temples in response until the tension began to ebb away into a dull throbbing sensation.

Μaybe I should sleep earlier tonight—I hate getting headaches.  

Humming slightly to myself, I thought that ten minutes must have passed and that it would be better to come by tomorrow or maybe some other time. With that in mind, I flicked on my flashlight because it had gotten to the point where I could barely see more than a couple feet in front of me. 

I made fast work of the path and was about twenty feet away from the actual playground when I heard a pair of feet behind me. Alarmed, I turned around and swung my flashlight around. A dozen paces behind me, a tall young man panted and seemed to bowl over as he almost fell to the ground. 

I panicked for a second, my flashlight wavering over this person’s sudden appearance before I realized who this person was.

It was David.

What was he doing here?

“D-David?” Without thinking, I rushed over to examine him. Despite his heavy breathing and the fact that he looked like he was about to collapse, he seemed fine. Perhaps he was just running and happened to catch sight of me. “Are you all right?”

David sucked in a deep breath before looking at me. 

Something…

Something not quite right flickered through his eyes before he plastered an overly wide grin on his face.

“You like walking out in the woods late at night?”

I shrugged, a bit uneasy, but still willing to give him the time of day. 

“It’s not that late at night,” I defended. “I might ask you the same question.”

He shrugged before he straightened from his hunched posture. 

He raised both arms above his head and stretched, a yawn leaving his lips. It was at that point that I noticed that he was bigger than me. 

Of course, he was taller than me, most people were, but in the dark, he was like a lumbering skyscraper. His shoulders were broad and what muscles he had seemed to dwarf mine with its innate power and strength. Even his presence, as comforting as it should have been, seemed to hold weight in the silence of the woods. 

Perhaps it was out of instinct, and not fear, that I took a step forward and brandished my phone like it was a weapon.

If he had taken note of my sudden vigilance, he didn’t say anything. Rather, he yawned again and scratched the back of his neck.

“I go out for a jog in the evenings. Most of the time, it’s around my neighborhood, but I decided to come around this place.” He looked at me quizzically. “Ever been here before?”

I nodded, a bit hesitant to speak. “As a kid, but usually with friends.” For a moment, we sized each other up before I broke the silence. “Listen, thanks for the job and everything. I start work tomorrow.”

He beamed at me and for a moment, I almost forgot that we were still a distance away from exiting the woods. It was like a switch had been turned off and suddenly, David, the mischievous little kid from out of town had come back to me. 

Maybe I was just being paranoid.

“Susie didn’t turn you off? She’s a bit stubborn, but she’s a nice person deep down.” He thought for a moment before grinning bashfully at the ground. “She’s also got some good taste in manga.”

I thought about the manga that Susie had been reading and couldn’t help the grin that crossed my face. I may not have read the specific series, but I’m pretty sure that it was some kind of stereotypical, fluffy, romance thing that could be found for a dime a dozen. Then again, Madoka Magica defied all expectations, so maybe there was some merit in his claim. 

I shifted a little to relax the tension in my body. “I’m more into anime, actually, but as a casual watcher.”

“Filthy casual.”

I shrugged. “Hey, um… I’m not sure it’s my place to ask, but were you good friends with Susie?” I watched as he looked at me, his expression perplexed and questioning. I held his gaze as the promise that I made to Susie rang through my ears. 

Do not go into the woods alone with David. Do not. Never. 

But why?

David was just as threatening as any other man in the dark, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t trust him. 

“Susie?” He scratched the back of his head, and if we had met back when the sun ws still high in the sky, I would have found his actions bashful and endearing. “ We kind of had a little thing, ya know? She broke it off for personal reasons.”

Well. I didn’t expect romantic relations, but I suppose I should have seen it coming. 

He continued, “Did she say anything weird about me?”

No, she had a panic attack, seemed terrified at the very thought of you, and warned me to never go into the woods with you. 

Woods that I happened to be with you at this time of night.

“Not really. Just curious.” I pressed the home button on my cell phone and saw that I had been out later than I had intended. I pretended to look disappointed, but inside, I was happy that I had the semblance of an excuse to leave. Promises or threats aside, my aunt was probably going to blow up my phone soon enough if I didn’t leave now. “Hey, it was nice talking to you again, David, but I gotta…” I waved a hand in the general direction of the exit, hoping that he would let me go in peace.

“Oh! Sure! You need company?”

“No, I’m good.”

As one, we tramped through the rest of the path until we finally saw the silhouette of the playground. Lamps lit up the area with a warm, almost orange like glow. Whatever familiarity that I had entertained when I had first arrived had become distorted. Now, it was strange to see the swings hanging like a dead man’s noose as they swayed in the evening breeze. 

You know that feeling you get when you enter a place that is usually inhabited with people but is no longer brimming with life? There’s a specific word for that, but I can’t place it. It’s on the tip of my tongue. 

When I get back home, maybe I can go talk to some of my friends, possibly get some of the latest news. As I made my way past the playground and onto the sidewalk, David called out to me. What could he possibly want with me now? 

I turned, a little wary, but still smiled at him with what I assumed was with polite deference. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s getting late, you okay heading home by yourself?”

“Yeah. I’m good.” I waved a hand and started walking away. “I-I’ll talk to you some later at some other time.”

He must have said something else under his breath, but I didn’t stick around to check. Instead, my feet pounded on the sidewalk; I was practically running away, but I didn’t think it would matter. It was a bit too late to feel any lingering sense of embarrassment. Besides, when I checked behind me, the playground was way out of sight and so was David.

Good.

Now, I was all alone. 

Luckily for me, the neighborhood that I was currently in didn’t have a bad reputation or anything bad tied down to its name. It was just some place that I used to walk through after outings with Toby and Lyra. Although, this must have been the first time I had ever walked this path from the playground without any of them to accompany me. 

Geeze, the nostalgia was really fueling me today. 

My feet slowed and I was simply strolling on the empty sidewalks. The street was lit with the customary street lamps and every so often, there was a flash of blinding white light from an incoming car. On the opposite side of me, a young couple giggled together as they walked hand in hand. I felt my lips jerk up without my consent.

Heh, they looked so cute. 

Finally, after a couple more minutes, I made my way back to my aunt’s house. 

I rolled my shoulders and steeled my resolve. 

Time to get back inside. 

“Did you make some new friends,” Tita Chona asked. She was reclining on one of the chairs at her dining table. Some mystery novel rested on the table in front of her. Clearly, she must have been in the middle of some story before I had walked in. Looking up at me, I expected some sort of scolding since it was getting pretty late and I was a girl and that whole spiel most women would get even though they could clearly handle themselves if need be. I was surprised when she smiled at me and beckoned me to her side. “I was actually talking to your mother a couple minutes ago.”

I don’t know about you, but I could smell the bullshit in the air. It was as thick and as pungent as rotting fish left to dry on a muggy summer’s day. Her phone was nowhere to be seen and she wasn’t the type of person to just get off the phone and leave it behind. No, she must have talked to my mom way earlier or had not talked to her at all.

Maybe she was planning on asking me something. 

“O-oh?” I took a seat and happened to glance at the novel that she was reading. I couldn’t exactly make out all the details, but it was old and weathered, most of the pages yellowing and worn. Kuya Benji must have read that book a lot when he was younger. “I already told her that I found a new job.”

Tita Chona hummed a little. “She says that you’ve been avoiding her calls.”

Well, I can’t exactly answer that the way she wants me to, can I?

Of course, I could just say that I simply didn’t have the time. After all, time zones didn’t match up. I could always say that I didn’t feel comfortable talking to either of my parents too soon. But I couldn’t say that. What kind of child would confess to feeling uncomfortable or feeling too tired to talk to their parents? As a child, you’re supposed to love your parents despite all their flaws—even if those flaws are what hurt you time and time again throughout the years. 

But, as a child, you’re not supposed to say that.

You’re not even supposed to think that.

After all, in the eyes of pretty much everyone, I was still just a child. 

I chose the easiest route. 

“I’ll call her later.”

She hummed again and turned to her book. 

Knowing that it was a dismissal, I practically fled to my room. 

I turned on my phone and seeing that it was connected to the wifi, I buzzed through some of my apps. Some were games. Some were pointless things that I probably should delete since I didn’t need to use them any more. Finally, after what seemed to be too much time procrastinating, I finally tapped on the right icon and pressed on my mother’s icon.

Nostalgia. 

If there was something I wasn’t nostalgic about, it was coming to terms with the fact that my parents knew everything and I was nothing.

Chapter Text

I shifted uneasily behind the counter. After coming into work and relieving the previous employee, a nice man named Marshall, I found that the convenience store was completely boring. I mean, I kind of expected this, considering that I was taking on the graveyard shift, but still. I had thought that there might be a few customers to make life interesting, but nada.

Nothing.

It’s a good thing that I happened to bring in a good sized novel that I filched from Kuya Benji’s room. I also planned on going to the library some time this week so that I could get some more sources of books. 

Anyway, this particular novel was written by some guy in the nineties. It was apparently supposed to be a crossover between fantasy and horror, but didn’t really get enough appreciation from general audiences to lift off the ground. I think this was before the time Harry Potter got big, so I guess that’s understandable. Besides, the cover art was enticing, if a bit raunchy for my tastes. 

As I began to peruse through paragraphs of flowery prose and witty chapter titles, time seemed to pass slowly. One moment, I would check my phone for the time and it would seem like the numbers didn’t change at all. Either the shift seemed to have warped all sense of time or the book was more boring than what I had expected. 

I glanced down at another paragraph that was explaining how different cultures in this fantasy world traded and bolstered the economy in excruciating detail before snapping it shut. 

Well, I didn’t know that it would take half an hour for me to realize that it would suck that bad, but it did. 

Sighing, I bent down to my backpack and withdrew a sheaf of papers that I found lying around the house. Although they weren’t colored paper, it was paper nonetheless. With practiced ease, I began to crease and fold the paper until it was in the shape of a square and trimmed the excess by carefully ripping it. Once the square was complete, I set about making the primary folds that would contribute to the final product.

What was the final product, you may ask?

Well, I was either going to make a crane (classic, I know) or a shuriken (the transforming ninja star that middle schoolers would make to attack people). I glanced at the time and since I was still in it for the long haul, I knew that it was probably best to do something arguably more advanced.

Shuriken it was then.

With that, I got to work folding and pressing down on creases.

As I was busy rearranging some of the pieces when I heard the door open. My first instinct was to glance at my phone. Huh, it was almost a quarter to one. 

That done, I glanced up to see a fairly tall man with a pale yellow hoodie stalk into the shelves where there was an assortment of chips and cookies on display. With nothing more to do than to watch the man go about his early morning shopping or finish my shuriken, I did what any responsible employee would do. 

I began transforming my shuriken into a star fit for taking down assassins. 

Trust me, my ninja throwing star was formidable. Any middle schooler worth their salt would sell their soul to have this in their arsenal. 

My ears pricked in attention when I heard one of the refrigerators open at the far side of the store. A quick glance in that direction confirmed that this man was grabbing a handful of water bottles and an assortment of sodas. Was he having a party this early in the morning? It was almost concerning. I wondered if this was considered grocery shopping and that he was probably buying “food” that would last him the rest of the week. 

From what little I’ve seen of him, he didn’t look unhealthy, but then again, so am I.

As I prepped my next batch of papers to be turned into shurikens, the man made his way to the counter. Up close, I could see that there were bags under his eyes. They were dark, almost as if it had been weeks, maybe months since he had a good night’s sleep. His skin was faintly tanned, as if he had spent his day outdoors and if he wasn’t wearing his hoodie, I could see the faint outline of muscles. But it was the faint smile on his face that kind of threw me off. 

I don’t know about you, but I don’t think that many people would go around smiling in the very early hours of the morning. 

I smiled back at him since it was the polite thing to do before ringing up his purchases.

“A throwing star?” He asked, in a way of making conversation. “I haven’t made those things since fourth grade.”

Shoot, I should have put it away or smacked my novel on top of them. 

I laughed, though. “It’s a… It’s a hobby of mine.” I coughed to hide my nervousness before continuing unnecessarily. “Origami, that is. Stay a while and I might make a crane.”

The man laughed as he handed the correct change for his purchases. “Tempting, but I gotta go.”

As I bade him goodbye, I happened to trace his steps outside. I wasn’t being nosy or anything. After a period of doing nothing, it was nice to let my eyes focus on something other than my boring novel or on off white paper. I noticed that the hooded man greeted two other people on the sidewalk on the road opposite the convenience store. 

Like the hooded man, they were clothed in similar clothing. They appeared to talk about something, as evidenced by the hooded man pointing at his bags, before it seemed to escalate into an argument.

Had the hooded man bought something wrong? 

A few moments later, I ducked my head and continued with my folding. Right on schedule, the door opened and I reflexively looked up. Instead of the hooded man from before, there was another man.

He appeared to be a few inches taller, but his features were softer, younger even. Underneath his cap, a head full of curls seemed to spring in unruly coils under the brim of his cap. 

He spared me no glance. Instead, he stalked towards the very back of the store. Seeing that I had no way to watch without looking like a creep, I continued making another shuriken. After I finished the preliminary folds, the man startled me by dropping a few packages of chocolate chip cookies onto the counter.

I stared at them before forcing myself to start scanning them.

Was this what the hooded man forgot earlier? Cookies?

Well, that was kind of funny. 

I must have smiled or let out a laugh because no sooner had I done so when the man in front of me asked, “Something funny?”

Unlike the man before him, whose voice was warm and mellow, vowels rounded and smooth like he had a southern accent, his words were blunt and apathetic. Like he didn’t care if I answered or not. 

I happened to look up to answer, but found myself frozen. 

On the left side of his face, a large bandage was plastered onto his skin. What happened to him?

“N-no, I just… Just, you got a lot of cookies here.” I laughed a bit out of anxiety. The easy camaraderie I had with the hooded man didn’t come easy with this guy. It was like all of my confidence had a free trial period and it had expired once this guy had shown up.

Oh, well. Not all good things were meant to last. 

The man clicked his tongue once and seemed to jerk a little. 

I bagged up the purchases and announced the total. He passed along a couple bills and much to my utter horror, I had to actually count out the change. I don’t know about you, but I get easily confused by counting. One little distraction, and I end up losing the entire sum. Thankfully, I managed to count the right amount of change with little hassle. 

“Thank you, enjoy your evening!”

The man nodded slightly. 

“Enjoy your ninja stars.”

He stalked out of the store and I found myself faceplanting onto the counter. 

I really need to keep the counter tidy so that future patrons won’t see how much of a nerd I was. 

I mean, looking at me, you can probably tell. 

However, one can only assume that I was a nerd, but with hard evidence, it was hard to deny such a thing.

Once I recovered from my embarrassment, I packed my ninja stars into my bag and began focusing on my novel again.

A quick glance at my phone revealed that it had barely turned one.

This… this was going to be one long shift.

“Nobody tried to rob the store?” David teased as he approached the counter. He carried a breakfast burrito in one hand and a styrofoam cup of coffee in the other. At first, I was surprised that he had come in so early, but realized that his shift directly replaced mine. 

Huh, does this mean…?

I checked my phone.

Yup, just five more minutes and I was free to go. 

“Don’t say that, it might come true.” I let loose a small yawn, one that I hastily covered with one hand. “I only had a few customers come in. Nothing too bad.”

“That’s good!” David took a bite of his burrito before sending me a curious look. “Hey, did you notice something weird?”

I palmed my eyes with one hand as I stumbled over my response. “Something weird?”

“Well, not necessarily something. Just, anything.”

Well, that was a weird choice of words. Nonetheless, I shook my head. 

I looked up at him and noticed that David’s warm brown eyes seemed to be in deep thought, almost as if he were at war with himself. Concerned, I leaned in closer to address him.

“Is there something I should know?”

He laughed. The sudden sound was harsh and biting, as if he had spent most of his life not laughing and had learned how to laugh from a poorly worded WikiHow article or something. 

I jumped, taken aback at the sound, but he took no notice.

“Nah, I’m just so used to Susie complaining about some weird stuff happening… sometimes.”

I looked at him, really looked at him. 

You know, I trust him because I think Connie has a high opinion of him, but some things just didn’t add up. 

Susie seemed adamant that there was something about David (well, from what I can infer after her warning), but could it be due to mental illness? She didn’t seem too well when I saw her. Granted, I only talked to her for a grand total of like… I don’t know, a couple of times? David hadn’t done anything untoward to me as of yet and I did know him back when we were kids… For a short time, yeah, but still. 

Arguably, it would make more sense to trust David over Susie.

But…

“How long had she been complaining about it?” 

“Susie? Dude, for like a couple months or something.” He sipped his coffee before muttering something under his breath.

“What?”

“Look, she was always high strung, but she went off the deep end after we went hiking in the forest nearby.” I perked up at that. That was definitely something. 

“Yeah,” he must have caught on that I was getting into this, “it was me and two other people. We went hiking, got a little lost, got separated, but we found our way back.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I think she saw something in those woods.”

“Like what?”

David looked me in the eye, as if he was looking at me for the first time. His deep brown eyes scrutinized mine, as if realizing that I wasn’t just some sound board. It was like he was sizing me up, appraising me.

“Could be anything, Ellie. After that trip, she went from ice queen to—” Sorry, I’m going to have to redact the next bit… what he said next wasn’t in any way respectful for Susie or any other self-respecting woman. “It’s like a flip got switched. Anyway, why are you asking?” He leaned over the counter and I began to be aware that there was a distinct height difference between us.

The thing was, I was usually cognizant of my height. In the Philippines, I was around average height. Here, in the United States, most people towered over me with little to no effort. I was stuck at five feet flat and everyone else was aspiring to be skyscrapers. 

Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, being short has absolutely no advantages. 

Now that David was towering over me, I could tell that if he were… if he were to do anything to me, I don’t think I could fight back.

“Did she say anything?”

“Oh, ah… no!” My nails dug into the heels of my palms as I tried to find a way to end this conversation without shedding some light of suspicion on me. “Just, er… She didn’t say anything about her mental health break thing. I was just wondering if something happened. She seemed really nice and it would be good to… it would be great if we were friends!”

Kill me. I sound like an overenthusiastic kindergartener. 

Who says that?

David blinked at me.

“Ellie, I know she’s hot, what with that bod and all that, but I’m pretty sure that you’re not her type.”

My face, already a little hot and sweaty from sudden spikes in my anxiety, seemed to heat with the suddenness of a volcano erupting.

“I—!”

“Yeah, yeah, you can thank me for breaking it to you sooner rather than later, yeah?” He winked at me before pointing at his wrist. “Speaking of sooner, I should probably get to work.”

I nodded quickly as I shoved my novel into my backpack before shouldering it.

“Hey, uh, a thought just occurred to me.” He waved his hand as if giving me persmission me to continue. “What happened to the other people? Did they have the same thing happen to them?”

David’s eyes… I don’t know how to describe them. They went from mischievous and slightly arrogant to dark and cold. It was like staring down into a well. There was depth to his eyes, but something lurked in them. Something unnatural. 

I didn’t know I had done it until I stumbled, but I accidentally walked back into a display case filled with newspapers. 

“Oh, them?” His voice, I noticed, had gone deeper, raspier. It was as if he didn’t want to say anything, like he was forcing these words out. “I don’t know. They left a while back.”

“Oh.”

How convenient.

Chapter Text

Mrs. Rogers had an antique tea set. When I was younger—I think I was in second or third grade?—Lyra and I would raid her curio cabinet whenever I had finished my homework and asked permission from my parents. At that point in time, I didn’t have to visit the Rogers’ household for tutoring sessions. Rather, I only came by because I had befriended the kids and they were far better companions than the few that I had made at school.

The tea set in question was light blue in color with pink roses adorning the handles and around the sides of the porcelain. The set was said to have been passed down from Mrs. Rogers’ grandmother and while I couldn’t tell the exact age, I knew that it was fragile and that I would definitely die if I accidentally dropped it or something. 

“Hey, I don’t think we’re supposed… we can’t play with your mom’s tea set!” 

I tried to carefully place the teacup that I cradled in my hands and back into the shelf inside the cabinet. However, Lyra wanted to have that tea party because Toby had wandered out back and had yet to come back. Since I had arrived with the full intent to have some fun before dinnertime, Lyra wanted to take full advantage of that. 

Lyra scoffed. “Come on, Ellie!” She reopened the cabinet and pulled the teacup and saucer that accompanied it out and onto the dining room table. “Mom doesn’t care as long as we clean it and don’t break it. Now, do you want hot cocoa or orange juice.”

I bit my lip. 

“Hot cocoa,” I managed to mumble.

In victory she ruffled my hair before ushering me into the kitchen so that we could prep the hot chocolate. As Lyra heated up the water and grabbed packets of hot chocolate powder from… somewhere, I was tasked with cleaning out the teacups, saucers, and teapot. The entire time, I focused on my task, only bothering to hum or grunt out single word responses so that I didn’t accidentally scratch the designs off. 

“Wow, Ellie, can you be any slower?” Her tone was teasing and I tried my best not to show that her words affected me. 

“I can try.”

She laughed before taking a towel and drying the teapot that I had just finished.

“‘Kay, I’m going to put the cocoa in the teapot and when you’re done, we’ll start the tea party.”

“Why aren’t we using tea?”

“Because tea sucks.”

Couldn’t argue with that. 

After I dried everything, I took everything to the table and sat at my usual seat. Across from me, Lyra sat, a weird little hat thing pinned in her hair. In her hands, I noticed that she had a matching hat thing, but with an outrageous amount of tulle and fake flowers added into the design. 

“Can’t we—“

“Nope. You are wearing this tea hat and you are going to enjoy yourself.”

Gingerly, I took that frilly thing (did this thing have sparkles and glitter on it, too?) and placed it atop my head. Despite the amount of unnecessary things in the hat, it was surprisingly lightweight. However, it still sagged down towards my eyes, obscuring my vision.

I heard a click and a giggle.

I pulled the brim forward towards my eyes. 

She just had to bring her camera out, didn’t she?

“You did not.”

I heard another telltale click and the sound of Lyra trying to muffle her laughter.

“But you look so adorable!” 

Suddenly, Lyra’s fingers found their way on my hat. She gently pushed it up and began to adjust the tulle and flowers in what I assumed to be a more fashionable and practical way to wear the stupid tea hat. As she finished her motherly attention on me, she took a step back and fixed me with a wide smile.

“Now, Duchess Magdalena, how about that tea party?”

I puffed out my cheeks, a habit of mine that showed that I was trying to recall something that I had memorized quite a long time ago. 

“Goodness, Lady Lyra! Of course I would happily accompany you…” Oh, what was I supposed to say after that? “…on this special event!” 

Lyra shot me a thumbs up before pouring our steaming hot cocoa into her teacups. The dark brown liquid flowed easily into both of our cups as Lyra began to regale me with tales of what happened to her in class that day. Just when I was about to take a sip of the hot cocoa, the backdoor burst open.

“Hey, guys!” Toby, with the aplomb of an untrained figure skater going fifty on a tiny rink, bounded his way towards the dining room table. His clothing was strewn with dirt and leaves, but his hair was absolutely the most unkempt thing about him. 

His hair was unruly, yes, but after a romp in the woods, it looked like he rubbed his head against bushes, trees, and possibly the ground. 

I would not be surprised if I shook him and found a bird’s nest or worms in there.

“You got cocoa in here?” Toby made as if to upend the teapot, but Lyra was quick to smack his hand away. “Come on, you know I like hot cocoa!”

Lyra was adamant. 

“Tobes, I swear—“

“Mom told you not to do that.”

Lyra sighed before placing her teacup a little too forcefully onto her saucer. 

“Tobes, you know what I mean. Anyway, get yourself cleaned up and I’ll let you have a cup and your own hat to wear.”

“Sweet.” Tobey dashed towards the doorway that would lead to the rest of the house and the upstairs, but no sooner had he nearly crossed the threshold did Lyra leap up to her feet, her tea hat falling noiselessly to the ground.

“Tobias Erin Rogers, get back here!” Lyra’s face was pinched with anger. Redness spread across her pale, freckled cheeks as she stood tall with her hands on her hips. 

I knew that look and that tone of voice very well.

Whenever Toby got himself hurt, whether it be a minor cut or something severe like a broken arm, Lyra and his mother were sure to have their inner mother bear modes activated. Constant exposure to this kind of did the same thing for me. As Toby trudged back into the kitchen, I dashed towards the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit from underneath the sink. 

“—not that bad! Seriously, it’s just a—“

Lyra had stripped Toby of his sweater, which revealed thin, long scratches all over his arm. Although some of them looked thin and shallow, there was one particularly deep one that oozed trails of blood that dripped down the side of his arm and down the pads of his fingers. Already, droplets of blood had fallen onto the hardwood flooring and the table. 

“Here you go,” I muttered. I gave the kit to Lyra while I ventured into the kitchen to grab some paper towels for the blood. 

“How many times have I told you, Toby,” Lyra scolded. “You have to be more careful! At the very least, you have to check yourself whenever you go out into the woods. You’re lucky Mom even allows you to go out in the first place!”

Because Lyra was more focused on cleaning Toby’s arm, she didn’t see Toby looking over her head and shooting me an exaggerated roll of the eyes at me. He twitched every so often, but not out of pain.

That was just another thing about Toby that I knew, but never pried into. I knew that he couldn’t feel pain and he had impulses that I could never understand. When I asked my parents about this (because I was still a little nervous broaching this topic with any of the Rogers family), they only said something about congenital disorders and syndromes. I was young at the time, but I knew that these were big, scary words and that it was best to just accept Toby for what he was. 

Maybe I would gain the courage to look into why Toby why the way he was.

One day. 

Anyway, I balled up a towel and threw it at his head.

“Ouch.” 

Lyra, having not noticed that I had launched a harmless projectile at her younger brother, scolded her brother further. “Quit it, Tobes. You can’t feel pain.”

“Hey! It wasn’t—“

“I got tow-towels!” I held the thing sheets high in the air like I was excited about finishing this task. In a way, I was. Watching Lyra take care of Toby without any questions asked, like it was all out of reflex fascinated me. My parents would probably scold me for an hour before treating me, but that’s just a guess. I’m too scared and too perfect a child to even think about getting myself hurt from playing in the woods. 

“Thanks, Ellie.” Lyra began putting bandages with cool dinosaur designs all over Toby’s wounds and I busied myself with cleaning up the bloodstains. 

“And we are just about… done!” Lyra threw her hands into the air as if she were in the middle of a victory dance before shoving Toby off the chair. “Now get yourself cleaned up before you get yourself some hot chocolate!”

“Will do, captain!” He shot her a salute before shooting towards the stairs.

“And don’t forget to put the kit back into the bathroom!”

Without hesitation, he rounded back as if he were a race horse, grabbed the kit, and finally—FINALLY—he left for the rest of the house.

Lyra slumped in her chair.

“Sorry, Ellie.” She looked morosely at her teacup filled with hot chocolate, which was probably lukewarm, before tapping the rim with a nail that she colored with one of her markers. “Looks like our tea party has been hijacked.”

“That’s okay!” I swept the fallen tea hat from the floor and neatly placed it back on Lyra’s head. “I kind of like… I like the distraction!”

I stared down at the pale blue teacup. Although it had been years since I had last drank out of it, the designs of pink flowers were still engraved into my memory. I traced over them, the smoothness calming me. Mrs. Rogers had called me a few minutes after I had woken up from my nap and had thought we were due for another chat. 

Well, I had questions and she wanted to spend some time with me, so I guess this arrangement was for the best. 

“Hey, Connie…” I trailed off, lost in thought as I wondered how I was going to go about getting information. I had rehearsed a few lines before arriving, but none of them seemed natural. If anything, it made me seem like I was paranoid and that David was a predator. Well, here goes nothing. “How come you know David so well?”

“Oh, David?” Mrs. Rogers tapped a finger against her lips as if recalling a memory. “He had some trouble as a freshman in high school—the same high school that Lyra was attending, actually.” She smiled fondly at that reminder. “She was always helpful, that girl. She tutored him and they became good friends.” 

Okay, that kind of explained some things. Not enough, but it was a start.

“Did you know him personally?”

Mrs. Rogers hummed in thought. “He was a good kid, mischievous. He really liked Lyra, but I don’t think Toby ever warmed up to him.”

“Why?”

“Oh, you know how boys get and Toby… Toby was always close to Lyra. It was the same for Lori and I when we were younger. Always trying to protect each other whenever some cute guy ever caught our eye.” Her eyes glimmered over her own cup. “Has someone finally caught your eye, Ellie? Did you leave a boy behind in the Philippines?”

My eyes bulged from their sockets. That was definitely not a question that I wanted to entertain. 

“N-no! Of course not!” 

She leaned in close to my face, as if her dark green eyes could see straight into my soul. Perhaps she could. 

For a second, she scrutinized me. When I looked at her with what I assumed to be a pleading look, she relented and set me free from her capturing gaze. 

“Well, who knows, maybe you might find somebody one day.”

Doubt it. 

“But, uh…” Shoot, how was I supposed to gather more information? It seemed straightforward enough; it didn’t seem like David seemed to be a bad person. But this was from the point of view of a person who was on the fringe of the relationship of her children. I probably needed someone who knew David better, but could give me some objective insight. Still, I had to throw one last stab at it. “Was he really close to Lyra? In a boyfriend-girlfriend… like in a dating kind of way?”

I cringed. Gah, I knew I had a better handle on the English language than that! That sounded so stupid and immature! It was as if I was thirteen and discovering that everyone else was experiencing puberty and I was kind of just… there. 

Evolving. 

Mrs. Rogers patted my hand. “Lyra never said anything, but I could see it in her eyes. She really liked that boy. David would often drive by, pick her up, and hang out. Usually, they would go out and have a picnic somewhere.” Her eyes grew misty in thought and in nostalgia. “I think they went by a nearby forest.”

The forest? Alone?

“And Lyra was okay with that?” I couldn’t help the yelp of concern that seeped its way into my voice. After what I had experienced with Susie and David, this was the closest to a lead that I could wrangle. There was something here, something that I could use to end this mystery that I probably didn’t need to solve. “Going alone with David?”

“Why, yes? Given time, maybe Lyra would have told me about her dating David, but that… happened.” 

I fell silent. 

It all went back to that crash. 

“Where was Lyra and Toby going during that crash, Connie?” I couldn’t help but ask. Back when emailing Mrs. Rogers was my only source of salvation and news of what happened to my dear friends, I don’t think I ever asked that question. It was always the ‘after’ that worried me. 

What was going to happen to Toby? What was going to happen to his mother? What would happen to all of Lyra’s friends? All of her prospects that willingly lined up to her for her future? 

I never thought about the minutes, the hours, or even the days before the event happened. 

It was only my faint memories of our shared childhood, the accident, and then what happened immediately after. 

Mrs. Rogers pondered for a moment before shaking her head in a mournful, swaying motion. 

“I don’t know.”

Chapter Text

I came in a little early for my shift, probably a full half hour before midnight. Marshall, understandably, was a little surprised to see me. He was a lanky black gentleman with closely cropped hair and kind eyes. When I had entered, he had been busy scrolling through what appeared to be a dating app. The sight of beautiful women was kind of hard to miss, especially since he didn’t notice that I was standing in front of him until I called him out.

“Heya, Marshall!”

He made a strangled sort of sound at the back of his throat, as if he were simultaneously a pig squealing before the slaughter or a tiny mouse running for the cheese in a trap. His finger slipped over the home button on his smartphone and he dropped what appeared to be yesterday’s newspaper on top of it. 

“Ellie! What are you—? It’s—?” He glanced at his wristwatch and cast me a confused glance. “Girl, you should check the prescription on your glasses; you’re way too early for this shit.”

I laughed. Although I had known him a few days (a few minutes per day, actually, seeing that we would have short conversations before he officially left), it was easy for me to talk to him. Words happened to flow out my mouth like honey dripping from the comb. I didn’t usually stammer and whatever humor I managed to add into my dialogue was greatly appreciated by him. 

He was a good dude. 

“Nope, I already got the time. Figured that you would want some time to talk to a real woman instead of… that.” I gestured to where I knew his phone lay. 

He rolled his eyes. “You look like you’re barely sixteen. It feels illegal letting you in here.”

“Ha, very funny. I am well above the legal age for drinking, thank you very much. And—” I cut him off before he could ask how old I was. Again. “—no, I’m not going senile due to old age. I actually wanted to hang out. Spend some time together. Like coworkers do.”

“Right.” He drawled out the ‘i’ before looking at me in suspicion. “I know we haven’t been talking to each other for long, but you seem to be kind of shy when it comes to talking to other people.”

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

I shrugged. “You got me. I came by early because I wanted to know a few things about working here.”

“Didn’t you have an interview before working here? Kinda late getting into this.”

“I kind of wanted the opinion and insight of a person who’s been working here for…” I trailed off, not knowing how long Marshall had been employed at this particular establishment. 

“Long enough.”

“Yeah! So, what are your thoughts about your fellow coworkers?”

“Does this include you?” At my negative response, he rubbed his chin and muttered, “Well, everyone seems nice, I guess. We got the boss, David, me, and before you, Susie. There were definitely more people, but they’ve all had to go their separate ways because of life or whatever.” He shrugged. “There really isn’t anything I can say. We work, get paid, nothing much to it.”

This was going nowhere. 

“Well, do you know what happened to Susie? When I met her, she seemed kind of jumpy.” She literally had a panic attack in front of me, but I didn’t want to get into that. “David also told me about her mental health vacation?”

Marshall chewed his lip as he thought about the information that I had given him. 

“Susie and I, we didn’t talk much. She’d come in either on the dot or a few minutes late, but that was okay. It’s the graveyard shift, I can’t blame her for that. I think she started a few months after me, actually. She seemed like the type of person to be like the stereotypical ice queen. You know that stereotype from those cheesy high school movies? Yeah, she fit the bill perfectly. And then, about three or so months ago? She started calling in sick, coming in later and later… Eventually, the boss had to get someone else for a temporary time. He had a strict heart to heart with her, probably asked if she wanted to be let go or something.” 

He shrugged. 

“Eventually, she came back to work, like I said, either on the dot or a few minutes after. Nothing seemed to change except she seemed to look perpetually tired, snappy. But the weird thing was, she always wanted me to stay with her for a few minutes longer. The way she looked at me… and when she would stare at the windows, you would think that someone or something was hiding out there. That was up until a few weeks ago and Susie seemed better, but then she dropped the resignation letter and well…” He gestured towards me. “There you are.”

I nodded. 

“So, would you say that she has a good character?”

“She hasn’t tried robbing the store.” At my incredulous look, he bellowed out a note of laughter. “What? That’s gotta count for her character! I can’t exactly write a full thesis on why she is the way she is.”

“I guess not.” I shifted a little on my feet, realizing that I had been standing idly for a while now as we had this conversation. “And David? Got any juicy details about him?”

“Girl, don’t use that lingo. It doesn’t sound natural coming from you.”

I held up my hands in a ‘what can you do’ kind of motion. “All right, all right.”

“Anyway, I don’t know his phone number if you’re interested.”

I blinked, heat rising to my cheeks at the implication. “I am not—”

“But he seems to be a pretty likable guy. If talking to Susie was a sometimes thing, talking to David was rare. We’d have conversations, yeah, but nothing too personal. Generally, guy stuff if you want specifics.” He paused. “Sounds good enough?”

“Were Susie and David friends?”

“They might be. You could always ask David that.”

“Thanks for the information, Marsh!” I took a sneak peak at his wristwatch and saw that it was a few minutes until my shift officially started. Well, he seemed to be pretty honest. He could have this as a treat. “I think I’ll take over from here.”

He let out a sigh of relief as he walked out from the space behind the counter. “You know, we can always make this a routine thing. You can come in here half an hour, maybe an hour earlier and—“

I shoved his shoulder out the door playfully. “You want to get paid? You have to actually work.”

“It was worth a shot!”

As he meandered towards where his car was parked, I watched until the coast was clear. At last, when I saw that he had driven off, I withdrew my cell phone from the pocket of my coat.

A slight tap on the home button revealed that there were almost half an hour of conversation recorded.

Time to get to work.

Note taking, for a lot of people, was an art form. There are literally people out there who actually invest time and effort into doodling little doodads and diagrams of what they learned from class or lectures or whatever. How they ever had the time to study and take down legible notes in exquisite calligraphy was beyond me. Don’t get me wrong, I can appreciate blogs who advertise the best ways to organize your daily journals and whatnot, but it wasn’t for me.

That said, I did have black and blue pens, a fading orange highlighter, and a battered notebook. 

Ignoring my notes about safety in the laboratory, I skipped over until I reached the newest blank page. There, I folded the page in half, lengthwise, which denoted the two columns I was going to fill.

Basically, one column would detail what I knew while the other column would be what I didn’t know.

What I knew: 

• David: (boy)friends with Lyra, not too great relationship with Toby, amicable relationship with Mrs. Rogers, terrible (?) relationship with Susie, likes the forest (hiker?), has two other friends mentioned by Susie, amicable relationship with Marshall
• Susie: supposed ice queen, had a different personality before something happened a few months back, possibly shows signs of paranoia, maybe has anxiety, decided to take a mental health break, thinks (or has shown signs) of someone/thing stalking her, had taken the graveyard shift before me, points to the fact that David is the cause for her recent mental low
• Mrs. Rogers: thinks of David as mischievous, probably sees no foul play or ill intentions David had with Lyra a few years back (maybe David was a different person back then), could be possibly be biased in her views, has David’s phone number in her contacts, may frequent the store during David’s shift
• Marshall: most unbiased, still not sure how trustworthy he is, very knowledgeable about Susie, knows little about David

What I didn’t know:

• Was David’s involvement with Susie’s mental health a one time thing? Was he simply an accessory to what happened? Did he actively take a part in her mental deterioration? If he was a major player, when did he start exhibiting these malicious intentions? Was this a one time thing? Or had he started back with Lyra?
• How trustworthy was Susie? How reliable was she in this low mental state? Has she received any medical help? What did she see in the forest that would cause her months of mental deterioration? Why did she see fit to warn me? Does she see me as another victim? Or was it a way to reach out?
• Was I reaching too far? Was I putting dots together that shouldn’t be connected? 
• Why couldn’t I let this thing rest? 

I toyed with the edge of the paper as the last few seconds of my recording from earlier played in my ears. 

Unlike those with bullet journals, my handwriting was small, cramped, and completely illegible to most human eyes. I smiled at that. It was just the way I liked it.

When I was younger, my parents would always get on my case for having a boy’s handwriting. For a long time, I was so self-conscious about my handwriting, that it would take me hours just to finish a one paragraph essay or I would redo all of my math problems on several sheets of paper because all my numbers were either too cramped or too smudged to be read. Eventually, I grew so sick and tired of having to live up to my parents’ expectations regarding handwriting (handwriting of all things!), that I snapped a little after college and decided that small, cramped, and illegible was the way to go. Of course, my handwriting was bigger on exams and when signing things, but it was my style. 

All mine.

And if my parents couldn’t understand what I was writing, well fine by me. 

I could.

As I studied my notes, I realized something crucial.

What was the motive here?

Why would David do something (if he even did anything) to Susie? Why would Susie tell me anything? 

Why was I pursuing all of this? 

I tapped my pen on the metal rings of my notebook, the metallic taps filling in the silence for me.

What if it was just nothing? 

For all intents and purposes, I didn’t know Susie, David, and Marshall. They were complete mysteries to me and unreliable narrators in their own way. 

Maybe I was making a mountain out of a molehill. 

“Making notes?” 

I am not proud to say this, but I made a sound that was either a cross between a shriek and a yelp. Now that I think about it, I probably made the same sound that Marshall made when I first startled him. 

When I glanced up, I saw that it was the same hooded man before. Same blue eyes, light smile, tan hoodie. Huh, how long has it been since his last run here? A few days? 

Geeze, his friends must really love getting their junk food from here. That couldn’t be healthy.

I nodded as I began to ring up his purchases.

“Shoot, I was hoping that you could teach me how to make a paper crane or something.”

“I think there are a few websites out there that can help you out.” As I ripped out the receipt and handed it to him, he caught my eye.

“You know, I’m more of a hands-on learner.” He winked at me.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh, dear.

Was he flirting with me? 

That was new. 

I must have blanked out for much longer than it usually does to process new information because when I refocused on the man again, he looked a little bashful, almost apologetic.

“Was I being a little too forward?”

I smiled in a way to show that I didn’t mind. 

“No, you’re good. I’m, er…” How do I put this gently? “I’m not looking for somebody at the moment. However… I can still teach you how to make a paper crane if you want?”

Studying me for a moment, I noticed that his bright blue eyes were brighter than expected, a sort of gleam twinkling within. Quite a charmer, if I do say so myself. 

“Sounds good.”

Honestly, I didn’t think that he would agree right away, if it all. I had assumed that him wanting to learn how to make a paper crane was just a segue to a pick up line, but hey, origami was an art form that I could get behind. More power to him for wanting to find a teacher.

“Well, if you have time…”

I tore out two pieces of paper from my notebook (goodbye lab procedures!) and taught him how to make a perfect square by folding and carefully tearing out the excess—before you ask, no, I never had scissors on hand, no matter how easy that would make my life. Step by step, I showed him until he managed to make a pretty good crane on his first try. It was a bit wonky and misshapen, but for a first timer, you can tell he put a lot of heart into it.

“Not bad!” I congratulated. “You could definitely make origami a new hobby.”

The hooded man smiled as he delicately played with the wings and the beak of the crane. 

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” 

For a moment, I watched as his blue eyes took in his misshappen crane before he began appraising mine. Because I was basically an expert at this point (not to toot my own horn, but I had several years and hundreds of cranes to my name), mine was able to stand tall and proud, the creases clean and the folds delicate, yet strong. His fingers, which had been previously gloved before I had entreated him to take them off for better folding, delicately stroked the beak of my own crane before settling on the equations and defintions that littered parts of its wingspan and body. 

I rubbed a little at my cheek, somewhat ashamed but still willing to oblige him for his unspoken curiosity. 

“Ex-college student, ha.”

He raised a brow, a look of what could pass for concern darkening his eyes and creasing his brows. “Drop out?”

“Ah, no! No. Just, er… A year off due to…” Failing grades? A lack of passion? Complete and utter lack of faith within myself? I could say all those things, but that would be a bit too heavy for a conversation with someone I had just met a grand total of twice. “... Let’s just say extenuating circumstances and leave it at that.”

A crooked grin immediately brightened his features, an understanding look crossing his eyes. “Hey, I know the feeling. I used to attend college down south before things went a little… hectic, I guess. I left college, found myself, and well…” He gestured vaguely, a laugh gently leaving his lips. However, I couldn’t help but note that it sounded… bitter. Forced. Broken. “I never went back to school, but I am living a dream.”

“A-and what kind of dream would that be?”

The man thought for a moment. 

“A nightmare, I suppose.”

With that, he gave one final pat to both our origami cranes before picking up his plastic bag of purchases and bidding me goodbye.

As the doorbell rang in farewell, his misshapen crane wobbled slightly before finally landing on its side.

I righted it and let out a breath I didn’t realize that I was holding. 

Chapter Text

If what you heard of Filipinos include that we are devoted Catholics, hospitable to the point of smothering, and we all just happen to be nurses, you would more than likely be correct in all three. Of course, not all Filipinos are ascribed to those traits lists, but you get the point. We’re a people considered to be warm, loving, and whatever positive emotions that you can think of. 

That was in exact opposition to the type of day that I had so far. 

Due to my work hours, I usually arrived back at the house at around half past eight, ate a little bit of breakfast, and then slept for like five hours. On most days, I would spend the rest of my time helping around the house or wandering the streets of my hometown in search of entertainment or to empty my thoughts. On Sundays, however, Tita Chona and I would walk to the nearby church at around five in the afternoon and attend mass. It was a ritual that was carefully agreed upon when I had informed my aunt that, no, I didn’t have the power to change my schedule just yet and going to mass in the afternoon shouldn’t be too bad.

The church itself wasn’t grand or stylish like any other churches you might see. It was short and squat, meant to fit at most one hundred people, but only ever managing to get a quarter of the seats filled during the masses when Christmas and Easter weren’t occurring. The church was like a giant dark brown box that just happened to have a steeple and a bell attached to it. In my opinion, I think the best part of the nearby church was that the stained glass windows were gorgeous. 

They weren’t spectacular or anything, I was just a sucker for good art. 

Plus, it didn’t help that my aunt always chose the seats that just happened to fall under the light of a stained glass window that depicted the birth of Jesus underneath a starry sky. On particularly sunny days, the colors of the glass will make the sunlight shine in pretty hues of purples and blues. 

It was magical.

On one particular Sunday, I had an idea. 

“Is it okay if I stay behind?” I smiled bashfully at my aunt’s dumbfounded expression. I never requested to be alone in a church before. “I thought about lighting a prayer for… you know…” 

“Oh, okay.” She looked at me steadily, a look of concern in her eyes. “Would you like me to stay behind?”

“O-oh no!” I waved my hands placatingly at her before answering. “You can go back home. I just want some time to myself and with God.”

That caught her attention because she immediately nodded her head and bid me goodbye. As soon as I spotted her figure exiting out the door, I made a beeline for the candles. I dropped in the appropriate amount of money at the tithe box, lit a candle, and muttered a small prayer. For a moment, I reveled in the silence of a nearly empty church before I exited out the back. 

A few days ago, I had spoken to Mrs. Rogers and she informed me that Lyra had been buried in the cemetery behind the church. I was in shock. After years of knowing that Lyra was dead, I knew that I should have come to terms that she must have been buried or honored somehow, but… It never crossed my mind to visit the cemetery. 

Perhaps, even years later, I was still in denial.

The path from the church to the graveyard was simple. There was a neatly paved pathway for mourners to walk along before approaching a gate. Due to the fact that it was still afternoon and fairly sunny out, the gate was left unlocked. As I made my way in, I noticed that there were others in the cemetery as well. 

A young couple, probably a few years older than me, were huddled around a gravestone, their faces weary with grief as they talked low under their voices. At another part of the cemetery, I spotted an elderly woman wiping away the dirt that must have gathered on the headstone. Was she a widow? Was she mourning an old love? 

I passed through the multitude of graves, trying to make sense of the layout. It would make sense to organize this place by the date that person died… After half an hour of searching, I found her grave. 

It was a plain plaque on the ground. It was black, and in gold lettering, informed the person reading her full name, date of birth and death, and had one quote: “Always loved, always remembered.” 

Beautiful.

I knelt on the ground, not minding the grass staining my jeans. A trembling finger reached out and I traced the lettering, how the grooves were cold and smooth on my fingers. 

“Hey, Lyra. It’s been… a while. How’re you?” I paused for a moment, as if waiting for her reply. When I deemed that I had given her enough time, I nodded slowly before beginning again. “I got your scrapbook. It’s at, uh—” I pointed at something behind me to signify that it was at my aunt’s house. “But, since I assume you’re watching me—well, I hope you are—you would already know that.”

I smiled down at the plaque before I played with the hem of my coat. 

“A-anyway, I want to thank you for what you were about to do before the c-c-crash.” My throat was starting to close in, my breaths becoming raspy and hard to control. “I wanna, I wanna… What I really want to say is—is thank you! I mean, a ticket costs a lot, even in American terms and well,” I laughed a little before plastering on a happy smile for my dear old friend. “Well, I know you are stubborn, but what were you going to do? Set up a lemonade stand?”

Knowing her, it could have worked.

She made killer lemonade during the summer. 

I rubbed the balls of my hand against my eyes, the pain of such pressure allowing me to convince myself that crying wasn’t what I needed right now.

“As a thank you for being such an awesome friend—” And sister. God, I always wanted a sister growing up. “—I’m gonna attempt to make something for you.” I dug into my pockets to pull out a pack of post it notes. They were in an array of colors, but I began peeling from the pinks and yellows. “I-it’s been a while since I’ve had time for origami—shame, I know—but hopefully, this won’t turn out too bad.”

That morning, before I went to sleep, I researched the instructions on how to make a rose. It looked a little difficult, but roses were something that I always wanted to make. It would make sense to give them to one of my oldest friends. 

As I creased the paper and began inverting and folding according to memory, I felt a presence behind me. Perturbed, I shifted a little to glance behind me.

There was a man a few paces behind me. 

He looked like any other guy that I could have met. Curly brown locks brushed over the tops of his eyes, barely tamed by the baseball cap that sat atop his head. A navy jacket that seemed a bit too baggy for him clothed his frame while a neat pair of jeans attired his legs. However, the man wasn’t as normal as I would have thought him to be. There was a bandage on the left side of his mouth. It wasn’t a simple band aid, it was layers of gauze and tape that nestled onto his face like a tumor. And his eyes…

Maybe I could have ignored that strange man and went back to making that rose, but he looked at me. 

He looked at me in a way that warned me to run away. That I was in danger.

He was the same man from the convenience store a few nights ago.

I waved at him. “Did you… did you need anything?”

For a moment, the man just stared at me. Did he not hear me? I know that I wasn’t the most audible person in the room, but it was dead silent except for my voice. He should have heard me! As I was contemplating the pros and cons of asking him again, his neck cracked and his arm seemed to jerk a little.

What?

Was he—?

He turned around and walked away, the sound of his shoes rustling through the grass the only way I could keep track of him.

Huh. Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding. 

I turned back to my rose. To my dismay, the altercation with the stranger had made me forget what step I was on. As I began to reverse engineer the process in my head, I pushed the thought of the stranger outside of my head. 

When I was finally done with a bouquet of roses, I placed them in front of Lyra’s headstone. While childish in nature, I knew that if Lyra was somehow watching me, she would have been pleased by the effort that I had put into the paper roses. Satisfied with the arrangement, I packed everything back into my bag and stepped away. 

“Well, Lyra,” I smiled down at her engraved name. “I better go. It’s been nice.”

Upon walking out of the graveyard, I happened to catch a glimpse of something navy at the corner of my eye. Like any other person, I turned to take a better look. 

It was that same man from earlier.

Even from afar, I could see that his dark eyes were heavily focused on me. I could detect no emotion in his pale features, a fact that somewhat unnerved me. For a moment, we held gazes, but I abruptly broke the connection by facing forward again and moving past the church. Safe from the stranger’s eyes, I heaved a sigh of relief. 

That was unnerving. 

Yet, I couldn’t help but allow a thought to come to mind. 

Did that man know Lyra too? Was that why he had come so close to her grave?

And if he knew Lyra, did he know me too?

When I arrived at my shift later that night, Marshall was busy mopping up the floor near the aisle where we happened to sell toiletries and cheap beauty products. The scent of disinfectant was heavy in the air; it reminded me of that one time someone accidentally dropped a petri dish of bacteria in the lab and one of the lab technicians practically doused the entire infected area with heavy chemicals. Ah, those good old days where my anxiety was at my peak and my love for life was at its lowest. 

Good times.

“Drunk couple,” Marshall muttered when he saw that I was about to question him. “The guy threw up first and then his girlfriend decided to do the same.” He sighed as he dragged the mop all over the area again in a counterclockwise motion. “At least they didn’t throw up on the toilet paper.”

“Need any help?”

“I’m good. I’ll be heading out in a bit anyway, so make yourself at home.”

We made idle chit chat about the daily news and sure enough, Marshall was soon out the door. I was a little surprised. I thought that he was going to ask me questions about yesterday’s mini interview, but I guess it wasn’t anything memorable. Or maybe cleaning up vomit was taking a toll on him. Whatever the case, I was glad that I didn’t have to scramble for an excuse, or worse, a lie of what I was up to.

To be honest, I’m not sure if I should even try investigating what seemed to be hearsay from different people.

For all I knew, it was all probably nothing. 

As I settled myself behind the counter, I heard the bell near the door jingle. Huh? Did Marshall leave something behind? 

I looked up and froze.

That man from the cemetery! He was here!

What was worse, instead of going into the little maze of aisles of junk food, he strode towards me. His pace was measured and slow. It was as if his way of moving was methodical and thought out. His face, just like when I first spotted him near Lyra’s grave, was empty and passive. 

His eyes, deep and dark like my own (and yet, so wildly different) were trained on me. 

Finally, when it seemed like an eternity had passed, he was directly in front of me.

“You’re the origami girl.”

I fiddled with the frames of my glasses as I tried to piece together why he said that. Did his friend in the tan hoodie tell him to get origami lessons? The thought of them talking to each other about me was kind of flattering (I guess?), but I’m not even that great at origami? What?

“I-I guess?” 

He hummed a little before leaning a little bit towards me. I noticed that whenever he moved, it seemed too robotic, too controlled. It was like he was holding himself back from moving too much. Every so often, if I paid enough attention to him, his neck would crack or his hands would flex. 

Was he nervous?

He whistled under his breath, which brought me back to the present. 

“A friend of mine says that you’re really nice.” His eyes, dark as they were, seemed to glimmer with something. It was bright and it was shining, like he was amused. I felt my face heat up ever so slightly. 

“Oh, um, he’s nice too!” Too high, my voice was way too high! I tried to level out my volume, which worked, but my words came out faster than Usain Bolt on steroids. “B-but I’m not into him or anything like that!”

Geeze, when I say it like that, it makes it sound like I do have a little thing for his friend.

The man blinked before a bright smile lit up his face. It was astounding. Whereas I was a little apprehensive to be in his presence before, now it felt like I was chatting to an old friend. His pale complexion (almost unhealthily so), became bright and animated. His dark eyes became significantly lighter, almost like a molten shade of gold or dark hazel. Even his posture, ramrod straight, loosened so that his stature didn’t seem too dominating over me. 

It was like everything before he smiled was all a mask.

“You sure?”

For the love of all that is good and holy, why does everyone think I need some kind of romantic subplot in my life?

“Yes!”

“You have single handedly broken my friend’s heart. For shame.” He tutted to himself. 

“I-I—” My hands covered up the apples of my cheeks. I had a tanned complexion, but I didn’t want to accidentally reveal that my skin was heating up to the point where a blush could be clearly seen. Unfortunately, the action only brought the young man’s attention to my face, which only prompted him to smirk and laugh at my expense. “It’s not like he’s here anyway!”

“True…” He leaned in closer to me so that his face was only a few inches away from me. “Would you be more comfortable if he was here?” 

Oooh, for some odd reason his voice seemed low, dark even. Husky, if I really wanted to continue to define and categorize how his already mellow voice seemed to slide like honey. If my face wasn’t already hot, it would have surely rivaled the sun’s atmosphere within seconds. The only good thing about this present situation was that my hands were already cupping my cheeks, so I didn’t have to undergo the same action of hiding most of my face away from him. 

I turned away from him, tried to stare at some point above his shoulder, and willed my voice to not squeak like an overused dog toy. “So… are you here to buy something or…” 

Or were you continuing to flirt with me?

Was this sexual harassment? 

Could I get in trouble for this?

Even better question: did I enjoy this impromptu session of his flirting with me?

Goodness! Ahhhh, this entire situation with David and Susie and God knows who else must be messing up with my brain too much if I was thinking that someone I had only met a grand total of like two times thought that I was worthy of being flirted with. Calm yourself, Ellie, he doesn’t even know your name!

Out of curiosity, I lowered my hands and faced him again. 

Unlike a few moments ago, he had returned to a fully standing position, but that smirk on his face remained. 

It was like he was enjoying the fact that he was making me feel things.

(Not romantic things, mind you. Business things, you know).

Finally, after he seemed to find what he was looking for in my eyes, he answered. “Actually, a friend of mine said that you were open to origami lessons.” His eyes twinkled as he happened to catch sight of an origami crane that I had finished folding the night before, but had left behind. Strange, you would think that someone would have thrown it away at this point, but whatever. Maybe David and Marshall liked having it there. 

Well, origami lessons, that was new. 

As the heat on my face receded, I found myself nodding and scrounging around my backpack for my old notebook. As always, it was stuffed in the very back amidst a few apples in case I got hungry, a pencil case filled with a variety of artistic instruments, and that stupid novel from the nineties. Once I managed to wrangle out the notebook, I flipped the cover and began to tear out two sheets of paper along the perforated edge. Without even thinking, I saw that it was notes concerning the different colors of test tubes where blood tests samples were concerned. As my eyes passed over how EDTA was always purple, I handed that sheet over to the young man.

He, too, scanned over the contents. His eyes, dark brown and curious, scrutinized my mad scribbles that were written, highlighted, and crossed out in a variety of colors. Honestly, if it wasn’t a notebook for clinical chemistry, one would have thought that it was an artist’s sketchbook (a very bad artist). 

“Are you a mad scientist?”

“Hahaha, I wish!” I toyed with my sheet of paper, the crinkling sounds of it just barely grounding me to reality. Who would have thought that I would have ended up teaching a customer origami? “I am a medic… Well, I was a pre-med student majoring in Medical Technology.” My voice faded to an uncomfortable murmur as I focused on making sure that I folded a line across the paper so that I could achieve the square that the Japanese preferred for the basics of origami. 

“Pre-med?” I looked up to find him staring at me with unfathomable eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that he sounded almost… concerned? Maybe he pitied me. Or maybe it was some pre-programmed response that people were supposed to make whenever they encountered a topic or information that they deemed too personal. Gosh, did I reveal too much? “You seem more like a liberal arts kind of person.”

Oh, if only my parents and the rest of my family picked up on that fact as quickly as him. 

I shrugged. 

“And you don’t seem like the type of person to learn how to do this kind of stuff.” No sooner did those words leave my mouth did I look up at him in horror. “I mean, I’m not t-t-trying to judge or anything! It’s just… It’s just—!”

He laughed. 

It was more of a snort than a laugh, but the sound got its message across. 

“Hey, relax. So you got a little bit of a bite in you—” He leaned over the counter, as he propped the side of his face on top of his left fist. My breath must have left me because I found my throat hitching as he slyly winked at me, the flutter of his lashes against pale skin just catching my attention in the best way possible. “—a guy like me can get into that.” 

I blinked once.

Twice. 

And then—

“So, you like dogs?” I laughed a little shrilly as I pointed necessarily at the perfect square that I had laid out on the countertop. “B-because, origami dogs are kind of easy and I’m guessing that this is your first time, so…” I glanced up at him, only to find that he looked absolutely tickled at the fact that I was rambling about paper dogs for no good reason. “Dogs?”

“Sure.” An appraising look settled in his eyes as he seemed to fully take me in. I watched something dark… almost menacing and hungry haunt his features before a slow, but steady smile spread across his face. Had I imagined it? Before I could ask if he was all right or to calm the racing beats of my heart, he spoke again. “I like dogs quite a lot.”

I ducked my head to escape his gaze.

When he said that, he was looking right at me.

Straight through me and into my soul. 

Chapter Text

“You’re so lucky, Toby.” I rested my head against the top of his desk. Unfortunately, as I did so, my head must have set off a chain reaction or something because a handful of papers and a stray pencil clattered to the floor. The resulting noise prompted me to action as I jerked up in the seat that Toby oh so generously provided me. As I leaned over to the side where the fallen articles lay, Toby somehow managed to appear. As he handed me the papers and the pencil with a cheeky grin, I couldn’t help but ruffle his hair in retaliation. “Gosh, you’re so quick.”

He half heartedly pushed my hands away from his already mussed up hair as he leaned his back against the covers of his bed. 

“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you’re dying in homework.”

That brought me back to my original point. 

“Yeah, you get to be homeschooled while I have to slave away at a desk!” My head fell onto the desk with a thud. Unfortunately, my notebook barely provided any insulation for my head, so I ended up with a blunt sort of pain encompassing the point of contact. “Oooff,” I muttered to myself as I brushed a hand over my temple. “That was a bad idea.”

I heard Toby shuffle towards me, a low whistle and a series of neck popping sounds greeting me. After several years of hanging out with him, the noises barely bothered me—if they did in the first place. In fact, I found that it was comforting to listen to his tics (as he and several of his family members called them). It was almost like a symphony of sounds that provided the ambience of our friendship. I glanced up a little to find him glancing at the scribbles on my notebook, his brows furrowed in concentration.

One of his fingers—chewed to the quick and looked like they were only a few bites away from bleeding—traced some of the written stuff on my paper before he made a confused sounding noise from the back of his throat. That didn’t sound too promising.

“Your handwriting is so messy.”

I hummed a little as I neatly closed the cover on my notebook.

“So is your room, but you don’t see me complaining.”

He flicked me on the forehead. 

“Ow! Assault!” I tried to shove him away, but he was taller and stronger than me. I tried to block his hands from descending upon me, but it did no good. “You’ve been eating your fingers without washing your hands! Go!”

“I chew my nails, Ellie. I don’t swallow them.”

“Whatever.” I switched tactics. Instead of aiming for his arms, I jabbed at his sides. Unfortunately, all that did was leave me face and other parts of my body vulnerable to attack while I fruitlessly tried to tickle him. “Ah, you can’t—” Sharp notes of laughter left my throat when Toby had taken advantage of my stupidity. His fingers trailed behind my ears and around my neck. It had taken him a couple tries, but after a couple of tickle fights in the past, he had mastered it to a science. 

“You know that I can’t get tickled,” he groused at me. He caught me in the ribs, eliciting sharp notes of laughter to escape my throat. I tried to fight back, but he easily overpowered me. The most that I could do was push at his chest and bat his hands away, but he continued the assault until my face became so red from the force of laughing so much.  

Finally, he released me and collapsed onto the ground, his arms spread out and his eyes angled towards me. As for myself, I straightened out my clothes and patted down my unruly hair. 

“You’re so mean to me, Toby,” I muttered in the most frustrated tone I could muster. Unfortunately, Toby saw right through my ruse and gently kicked my leg while still looking like he was about to take a nap.

“Well, why don’t we go outside? All you’ve been doing was either doing homework or complaining. It’s like we’re not even hanging out!” 

Despite his obvious joking nature, I felt my face flush at the hidden accusation. It was true in a way. 

I was in fifth grade and some of the subjects that I used to find tolerable were getting harder. Science was adding new definitions and ways of thinking into the mix while math was messing with letters where they shouldn’t. Not only that, but everyone in my class was going through that weird phase called puberty and they were all acting weird. I was already a student with few friends, but I found it near impossible to retain my tentative bonds with those I had been friends with for the past few years. 

My friends who happened to be girls talked about things I didn’t understand while the boys acted out of their way to make it seem like I was the one intruding on their friendship. 

In a way, puberty had turned my classroom into some sort of different planet and the only one I could be honest with was Toby. Even Lyra, who I had greatly admired and had hung out with for most of my childhood seemed distant, preferring to chat with her friends in the upper year levels.

At least I had Toby.

Was it selfish of me to think that Toby was better off being homeschooled? I knew that he didn’t want to get into regular schooling due to Tourette’s, but I couldn’t help but think that it was also for me in a way. He was like my special friend that no one else could take away from me.

He was mine.

I glanced out the window and saw that while the sun wasn’t as high in the sky as it was when I had first arrived at the Rogers’ residence, it was still fairly light out. Toby and I could go play in the woods nearby or walk down a few blocks down to the playground. 

“You want to hang at the park?”

Toby’s neck cracked as he whistled in contemplation to himself. Before I knew it, he nodded enthusiastically as he took hold of my wrist and began dragging me down the stairs.

“H-hey!”

“Adventure awaits, Ellie!” 

We barely made it out the front door when we nearly collided with Mrs. Rogers. She was carrying a bag full of groceries and a bemused smile on her face when she saw us brush past her at the speed of Mach 1. 

“M-mrs. Rogers! So-sorry!”

“What she said, Mom!”

Mrs. Rogers leaned against the doorframe as she waved us goodbye. “Make sure you come back before dinner, Toby! I don’t want her parents thinking that we kidnapped her!”

“Got it!”

Before long, we were racing down the street, neck and neck. It had become a tradition that once we cleared the driveway, we would begin running in earnest to our destination. While Toby had the physical advantage of being an older boy, I had agility and determination in spades. It would take us a little over five minutes to make it to the playground, but that was if we kept to the sidewalk.

Now, I don’t know about you, but if you kept competing against the same person for years, any person would strive to think of new strategies and tactics to get ahead. I’m not a cheater, per se, but I was definitely itching for a victory. 

When Toby began to pull ahead and my lungs began threatening for a reprieve, I began to put my plan into action. I took a detour to the side and cut through a person’s lawn. It was neatly trimmed and bordered with hedges that were much taller than I was. I paid no attention to how well taken care of they were. Instead, I made a mad dash towards a small little gap that I managed to slink my way through, which led me to another adjacent backyard and through there, hopefully, I would be able to make it in time to start swinging.

Unfortunately, Toby must have looked behind him or heard the lack of footsteps coming after him because shortly after I had ducked into the bushes, I heard him coming in after me. 

“Hey! What the—”

I didn’t spare him a glance as I rounded a corner and headed straight into a path that would take me into the middle of the playground.

“No swearing!” I yelled to reprimand him. No sooner had I said that did I find myself only a few paces away from the familiar sight of the jungle gym, swings, and monkey bars did I do the one thing that would have been obvious to most people who were traveling at a fast pace that eventually—

“Oof!” 

Much to my embarrassment and shame, I looked behind me—I swear, I wasn’t going to gloat—to catch Toby slowly gaining on me when I tripped on a root. The fall itself was instant, but the pain wasn’t. I had pitched forward and no sooner had I realized that the ground was eagerly kissing my face did I feel the urge to curl up in a ball and cry. I must have been lying there for a longer time than I had thought because I felt a pair of fingers prodding the back of my neck.

“Are you alive?” His voice, unfortunately, was more blunt and curious than worrying.

I rolled over so that I lay on my back and gave Toby the biggest, scariest glare that I could muster. Unfortunately, Toby didn’t see how frightening I could be. Instead, his face scrunched up into a mocking smile as he knelt over me.

“You could at least sound a little more concerned.” 

I tried to push his face away from mine, a little discomfitted by the lack of personal space, but he shook his head. Before I could complain, he grasped me by the shoulders so that I could properly sit up. 

“We don’t have to race to go the park if you’re just going to end up hurting yourself.” My eyes widened and I stared at Toby’s contemplative features. It seemed like he had stumbled upon an idea and he was more than willing to share it with me. “We can walk next time if you like.”

Ugggghhhh.

I am not helpless, Toby. 

Just because my parents and a lot of people think that I can’t do things for myself doesn’t mean that you should. 

“But I like racing you!” I winced when I realized that my voice was much louder and shriller than I had intended. Even Toby, who was more than accustomed to my soft voice seemed taken aback by how forceful my voice could be. My eyes narrowed at him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you were convincing me to stop racing you so that I would never have a chance at beating you!”

A corner of Toby’s lips began to rise.

Those very same lips tried to tamp down the urge to become a full blown smile, but I already saw that he found this situation funny.

For some odd reason.

“I knew it!”

It didn’t help that he whistled a dainty little tune instead of that impulsive melody that he would do whenever his Tourettes was acting up.

He snorted as his neck jerked and cracked. “Maybe if you were a little bit taller… but I bet I would still beat you.”

“Hmph.” I got up from the ground on unsteady legs. My hand accidentally brushed against my forehead, which elicited a pained hiss from me. “Ah…”

This time, when he asked, he sounded a lot more worried about me. His twitching became a lot more apparent and every so often, a whistle would flow from his lips.

“That bad?”

I nodded, not trusting my voice. 

Without a word, he took me by the wrist and began dragging me back to his house. Along the way, I noticed that his hand was still wrapped around mine. Although insistent and tight, it was rather nice to have him hold me. Through the years, he had always taken to invading my personal space, even if the rest of his family had a talk with him about it. It wasn’t until I told Lyra that I actually liked his physical affection that his family no longer saw issue with his forcefulness. 

It was nice to feel wanted. 

However, sometimes, Toby pulled away or didn’t reach out in the first place. Perhaps he was going through that same pandemic named puberty, or maybe he was getting tired of me and my antics. I don’t know when it started, but I can say for certain that it started recently. He would grasp my shoulder to lead me outside or to inform me of his presence, but he would always let go abruptly. It was like he was changing in that weird indiscernible way that came with growing up.

As he walked beside me, careful to keep his strides short and steady so as to not cause me to trip and exacerbate my wound, I studied his face. He wouldn’t admit it, but whenever he was lost in thought, he would either bite his lips or the inside of his cheek. Because of his CIPA, he couldn’t feel pain. Because of that, Lyra and Mrs. Rogers would warn him about doing it, which only led him to seeking another outlet: biting his fingernails. Unfortunately, biting his nails became a habit and that just about ruined his fingernails for good. 

His shoulder rolled and his eye caught me in the act. 

“Is there something wrong?”

I faced forward again as a billion thoughts raced in my head. 

It was only because of the languid grip that he had on my hand that I managed to stay calm for a moment to answer.

“Nothing. Just don’t ever change.”

If I looked at him, I probably would have seen him look at me in confusion—maybe even some concern. 

We stopped as a car cut in front of us.

“Ellie, why would you think that?”

His grip tightened on my wrist. 

I shrugged. “Just don’t do it. A lot of people have.”

Chapter Text

“Are you trying to build a zoo?” I looked up from my menagerie of cranes and dogs, some of which were pictures of perfection while others… weren’t. It was David and he looked rather cheery as he walked in for his shift. Not that he wasn’t the type of person who exuded that happy lightness, he willingly chose the morning shift after all, but this sort of attitude just seemed out of the blue today. 

“I don’t think people would appreciate a zoo filled with dogs, cranes, and—” I held up Toby’s pride and joy that he insisted I keep. “—a ninja throwing star.”

David shrugged. “I’d pay good money for it.” He leaned across the counter as if in preparation for telling me something important. Seeing that as my cue, I leaned in close. “Hey, my abuela is throwing a party this upcoming Saturday, you in?”

I looked up from stuffing the animals into my backpack. Shocked is what would even say about my current disposition. Others would go as far as to say that I was dumbfounded. Really, I was all of those things and flabbergasted. Why would David invite me somewhere? 

Aside from our interview and other sparse conversations, we didn’t talk too much. Heck, I don’t even think I had even thought to text him or manage a friendly connection. Our relationship, if one could even call it that, was purely professional.

Aside from the investigation that I was conducting, that is. 

It was probably in my best interest to keep our relationship that way. 

Still, I had to answer the pressing question: Why did he want me to come to his grandmother’s party? 

“Why?”

His lips turned upward in a sly smirk, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They looked cold and dark, as if he didn’t expect me to question why. He wanted me to accept without much hesitation. 

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” I tilted my head and he whispered, “I don’t know how to say this, but my parents and the rest of my family thinks that I’m a loser who doesn’t have a girlfriend, so…” He looked expectantly.

My cheeks burned and my stutter was brought back full force. Out of all the reasons why, he had to come up with that? Geeze, was I like his last resort or something? We barely talked and if we did, it was just shallow small talk and if it wasn’t, it was because I was trying to get away from what may or may not be weird, suspicious circumstances. 

“You don’t have a… somebody already? A girlfriend?” I was dimly aware that all the poor little animals were getting crushed in the confines of my backpack, but I couldn’t pay any mind to that. Instead, I was filled with the sudden realization that I should not, at any cost, attend with him. 

Not because I suspected foul play considering the whole Susie situation.

Oh, no.

I just don’t like jumping head first into a lake of oiling lava, AKA attending a party with people I didn’t know at all. 

Nope.

Nopity nope nope.

David smiled indulgently at me. 

“Here’s the thing.” Oh, this has to be good. “My parents know all of my friends who happen to be girls and they know that they are either dating, have dated me, or aren’t interested in dating me at all. I was going to ask someone else, but she kind of left the area, so—”

He continued on, but I felt my heart race.

Someone else? But she left?

Was it Susie? And if it was, was it due to her mental state, or something to do with David? 

Was it a combination of both?

Or was this all a coincidence?

It was rude, but I interrupted his spiel of excuses. “Were you going to ask Susie?”

A shrewd little look entered his eyes. That feeling of being sized up and being dissected under his gaze overcame me. I didn’t like it; it was like he was mentally demanding that I shut up and submit to him. 

He looked at me like I had something important and that he wanted to take that thing away from me. 

“Hahaha, yeah, we were good friends before what happened and hey—!” He snapped finger guns at me and smiled in a way that was meant to display cheekiness, but just unnerved me all the same. “She’s hot!”

With her dark skin, toned arms, and wild hair, yeah. She was hot. But that was beside the point. 

“But why me?”

“Because… Why not?”

He had a good point. I didn’t have a reason to not go, but then again, I also didn’t have a good reason to go. I told him so and he rolled his eyes at me. Rude. 

“Look, I’m not comfortable with parties and stuff.” I bit my cheek as I contemplated whether I should reveal that I had a lot of unresolved issues concerning my anxiety, self esteem, and other things that probably warranted a few visits to a therapist. I thought some more before I realized that I didn’t have to tell him anything. “Besides, what if I have other things to do on Saturday?”

He raised a brow in challenge. “Like what?”

Good question. 

I slowly shook my head. Shoot, he caught me. The best excuse that I could come up with at that moment was that I had to help around the house. It wasn’t exactly a lie, I planned on doing some laundry and other menial household chores, but I doubt that was going to be the thing that saved me from this party or whatever.

“Seriously, I’ve never met your family before, much less your grandmother.” Here, I was going to put my foot down. I was a kind person, but this was pushing my limits. I couldn’t do it, conspiracy or not. “I’m sorry, but I’ll be very uncomfortable if I go.”

“Not even for free food?” 

“Umm…” 

Shoot.

How did he know that the prospect of free food was one of my major weaknesses? Was it that obvious that I was a complete sucker? Food just happened to taste divine if you didn’t have to work or pay for it. 

Seeing an opening in my defenses, David immediately pounced with a charming smile and a friendly wave of his hand. “Think about this as an opportunity to go out and have some fun! You’re always holed up in your house. Do you just come out for work?” 

Although his tone was teasing, I could almost hear the undercurrent of concern. Or was it something else? I wasn’t sure.

“Sometimes I go visit old friends!” My voice came out much more defensive than what I had intended, but it was too late. Triumph came to life in his dark brown eyes and I had to remind myself that I still had to fight before he could claim victory. 

“I go visit Mrs. Rogers sometimes!” Mrs. Rogers… Wait. “Speaking of Mrs. Rogers…” He seemed to perk up, obviously wanting to know where I was going with my newest line of questioning. “How well do you know her anyway?”

David reared back in what I interpreted to be alarm at the sudden change in conversation. He looked ready to call me out on that, but I tried my best to plead with my eyes. Maybe it was due to my charm (ha!) or sheer awkwardness, but he acquiesced. 

“She comes into the shop sometimes during my shift.”

“And?”

A faint hue of red dusted his cheeks.

“I may or may not have had a crush on her daughter for a bit before…” 

I sobered up as well. 

“Oh, so you weren’t… together? Dating?”

He looked away, a stray hand brushing the hair at the back of his neck. It looks like the tables were reversed. Instead of me being the shy, awkward person, I was the one who seemed to be in a position of power. 

“We kind of did…” He pursed his lips as he sought to elaborate. “We didn’t make it official or anything, but we did hang out a lot.”

I keep silent, not knowing how to continue the conversation. 

He must have sensed that I was feeling a little out of my depth because he slung an arm over my shoulders, the warmth coming from his body seemingly too warm and hot to the touch. But, perhaps that was just me. 

For a person who seemed to be so warm and inviting at times, but utterly cold and aloof at other times, I found it odd that his voice was no longer conversational and loud. Rather, his voice was barely above a murmur—a lilting croon made uncomfortable when his hand gripped my shoulder hard. 

“We would hang out for drives after tutoring sessions, go out into the woods sometimes… She really liked taking photos of the wildlife and hiking through the trails.” He huffed a harsh laugh. “Nature girl, ya know? It’s just too bad… about what happened.”

I turned to face him, making sure to school my expression into pure curiosity, playing up my childlike features to evade suspicion. Something told me that I shouldn’t trust him, that it would be a fool’s errand to take everything he said at face value. After speaking with Mrs. Rogers and comparing it to what he said right now…

It seemed like he was implying that he wasn’t there with Lyra and Toby during the car crash…

“But… weren’t you with Lyra and Toby during the car crash?”

Just as suddenly as I asked that, his arm left me, feeling bare and exposed amidst the cool air of the store. For a moment, his eyes were haunted as he stared out into the windows, the buildings opposite to the establishment seemingly blurring in his gaze. Something was off about this entire situation—someone was withholding information from me and it was distorting the story that I was trying to reconstruct.

What had happened to Lyra? 

“I wasn’t with them, Ellie.” His voice was soft. Dangerous. I willed my body to move, but instead, I froze up and dumbly looked into his hollowed eyes. “I… I called them into the forest one afternoon… and they never showed up.”

“O-oh…”

He laughed a little at my expression, ruffling my hair as he did so. 

“Don’t look so shocked!” The off putting sensation that I heard from his voice was no longer as apparent, as if it had disappeared as he provided levity to the situation once again. “ Dios mio … You looked just like me when I heard about the car accident!”

He laughed, but I… I think I saw something.

Something pale, yet dark at the same creep in the corner of the windows. I must have made a sound or something because David turned around and immediately sucked in a deep breath. And then—

“So… you’ll think about it, right? My abuela likes having guests over.”

“I’ll think it over.”

And then he laughed. 

What was he hiding? If I didn’t know any better, I would say…

I would say that David was mostly at fault for Lyra’s death. 

“You can take off your gloves if you like. In fact—” I pointed towards his failed rendition of a crane with a sad look on my face. “—I think it’s highly recommended that you do. It would help with the folds and if you’re handling smaller pieces of paper.”

The man looked at me, seemingly in thought before he started to take off his gloves. They were black woolen gloves that were trimmed with white detailing. Last time he had been into the store for origami lessons, he had never taken off his gloves, despite the fact that his paper dogs that I had him make weren’t as good as they could have been. They weren’t bad, per se… 

But they definitely could have been better. 

What with the poor folds and how he would fumble with the paper… It didn’t help that he would often twitch or jerk without rhyme or reason. Something told me that he was probably suffering from Tourette’s Syndrome, but I wasn’t sure if I should broach the topic on that yet. 

For now, I just went off my experiences that I had with Toby years ago.

My eyes followed his actions only to have my eyes widen in shock and my breath stop for a second. His hands were littered with bandages and what wasn’t covered by the strips of cloth revealed thin angry red lines. Scars. His hands were covered in a multitude of scars. Further inspection revealed that his fingernails were chewed down to the quick, it looked like he was a serial nail biter.

I swallowed thickly and resolved to let him be.

Unfortunately, that resolve was quickly broken when I caught his eyes  looking down at my own. He seemed to be gauging my reaction, as if anticipating some words of accusation or judgment. 

I kept quiet. 

Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved to ask why he had so many scars and so many bandages, but I didn’t know him that well. I had met him… Like, three times? Vulnerabilities and openness in relationships were things to be sought for, sure, but we were still strangers. If he had some backstory to do with his scars and that curious bandage on his cheek, then he was free to tell me on his own time. 

Besides, I wasn’t his doctor or anything.

For now, I was his origami teacher. 

I turned back to my sheet of paper, intent on showing him the folds from the ground up. “Okay, first you have to fold your square—”

“You can ask, you know.”

Startled, I could only look up at him with confusion, my mouth agape. “P-pardon?”

The young man pointed to his hand and as afterthought, he then patted his cheek. With an air of mischief, he leaned against the counter and drummed his fingers. My eyes were drawn towards the repetitive movement. Now that his hands caught my attention again, a burst of curiosity overwhelmed me. What with all the drama concerning David, Susie, and Mrs. Rogers, I felt robbed of answers to questions that constantly tugged at the edges of my consciousness. True, I could always ask upfront, but there was something off about this situation—at least, that’s what I told myself.

Realistically, it was probably due to my inability to speak up in conversations—especially regarding topics that were… serious. 

A pair of fingers snapped in front of me, getting my attention once again. As my eyes focused on the young man again, he looked mildly bemused by my lack of response.

“I know I’m devilishly handsome, but you gotta stop daydreaming about me. I’m not paying you to stare at me when we could just as easily be doing origami.”

I bit my lip in an attempt to stop myself from smiling, but it came through anyway. 

“Paying me?” I asked incredulously. “Unless you’re buying something, then I’m not getting anything in return.”

“Hmm… do you take tips?” 

Tips?

“Erm… no? I mean, I wouldn’t mind some extra cash, but I have a feeling that it would be…” What’s the correct term I should use? Illegal? Probably a bit overhanded… Maybe… “Against business regulation?”

He surprised me at that point. “Really? Against business regulation?” His voice sounded almost mocking, but with enough friendly teasing so that my feelings didn’t get hurt—too much. His smile was so broad, it seemed to lift the bandage on the left side of his face.

Speaking of which…

“W-w-well, since you were offering,” I leaned forward against the counter, resting my full weight against it in case I was in for a long story, “what’s the deal with your bandage and your scars?” I paused, a sudden flash of embarrassment causing me to curtail my sudden boldness. “I mean, if you’re… if you’re willing to tell me about it in the first place!”

I ducked my head low, too terrified of my own social ineptness and his self-assuredness for me to continue eye contact. 

“You know, you should be more confident in yourself. Besides, I wouldn’t have said something in the first place if I wasn’t planning on complying.” His deep brown eyes held warmth and something else that I could not identify as he looked down at me. “Breathe a word to anybody about any of this—” He gestured to his scars and bandage. “—I might just have to silence you. Forever.”

Pfft. 

Such a cliche line. 

Still, I humored him by miming a zipping motion over my lips. 

“Well, most of my scars—the ones on my hands—are from my job and I have this habit of biting my fingers sometimes.” I nodded my head. A bit weird that he bites his fingers, but hey. Some people did that because of impulse or need for stimulation. 

With a stab of sadness, I thought of Toby, but I brushed that thought away. 

“And your cheek?”

He leaned in close and pointed at the bandage, one of his fingers teasing up one side of the plaster as if he was only seconds away from tearing it away from his face. Like any sane person, I shuddered away and hoped to all the gods in the universe that this young man didn’t do what he was hinting on doing. 

He murmured close to my ear, his warm breath caressing the shell of ear. 

“Chewed through it like bubblegum candy.”

My eyes bulged out of their sockets.

“What—Just—”

What?

“Come on,” I muttered, “if you’re going to lie to me, at least make it more interesting.”

He simply shrugged at my disbelief before holding up one of my origami cranes that I had made earlier. He studied the shade of blue that the crane had been made from, his eyes glazing over with… nostalgia, I think. Suddenly, his shoulders rolled and his neck cracked. 

Shocked, I brought my hands forward. I don’t know why, but something urged me to calm him. Just when I was about to graze one of his shoulders, he shuddered again, which would have been enough incentive for me to stop, but it wasn’t.

It was the look in his eyes.

I saw confusion and anger before it settled onto a coldness that I had only witnessed flashes of before. My hands stuttered to a halt before I brought it back to rest against the cool glass of the counter. 

I cleared my throat and steadied my gaze.

“S-s-so, how do you feel about advancing to a crane?”

I grasped one of my pre-made squares that I made for this specific occasion, the paper just slightly wrinkled from previous handling. I was about to walk him through the steps for a crane, when he coughed uncertainly. I swallowed before glancing up at him.

He scratched the back of his neck, his eyes glancing at a point above my shoulder.

Huh, it looks like a person as cool and collected as him could be as embarrassed as me. 

Weird.

“Sorry about that,” the young man muttered. “I’m not used to people touching me. You just… startled me is all.”

I nodded to show my understanding.

Should I say something else to comfort him? Maybe? Or should I just keep quiet and let him take the reins? I mean, I didn’t have that much experience with this guy, but there was something… I don’t know, a part of me felt sad, like he should have been a man who should have welcomed touch. What had happened to him to be wary of my gesture of comfort? 

“Hey.”

Started at the sound of his voice, I glanced up at him. 

“You know, you think too much.” He studied me for a minute before he relaxed once more. “So, what’ll it be Origami Girl? A pelican, right?”

Unbidden, a snort left my lips.

“Origami Girl?”

He shrugged indifferently. 

“Figured that I would give you a name. I don’t know, it suits you.”

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. “I could just give you my—”

“Nah, it’ll be cooler to give each other codenames. Besides, Origami Girl sounds cute.” His lips curled upwards, his smile warming me on the inside at the sincerity in his words. “Cute like you, actually.”

I fought really hard to keep myself from smiling at that. 

That… that was too smooth.

“Well then, I suppose I’ll have to give you a name as well.”

“You better make it cool.”

I thought for a moment before saying—

“Theodore.”

Chapter Text

“Theodore?” He canted his head to the side, pure confusion on his face. 

I nodded a little too sheepishly. Although we were not as close as friends (heck, we weren’t even friends in the first place), there was a teasing tone, like a pair of close friends ribbing each other. 

He sighed a little, bemused by my chosen nickname. 

I thought, for a moment, that he would convince me to choose a better name for him, but he merely smiled. 

“Well, it’s certainly classy and old-fashioned, which are definitely two things that don’t describe me well.”

I ducked my head low. Red hot embarrassment ghosted over the skin of my cheeks, the tips of my ears, and the fragile skin around my neck. If he didn’t like it, then he didn’t have to keep it—!

“It’s pretty damn adorable, though. Does this mean you think I’m adorable, too?”

I made a stupid mistake at that very moment. 

When I caught wind of the teasing, of the audacious flirting, I glanced up at him and—

Heavens above when did he get so close???

As my hands clapped over my face, I felt one of his calloused hands grip my left wrist, gently tugging it back.

Still, I kept my eyes stubbornly closed.

“Come on, Origami Girl, I’m just teasing!”

“If you don’t like it then—”

A sudden stinging sensation erupted on my forehead. In surprise, I opened my eyes and glared in irritated reproach at the young man who looked a little too mischievous for comfort. 

He clicked his tongue a bit, as if he were a mother scolding her child. 

“Like, I said, you think too much.” He flicked my forehead with his fingers again for good measure. This time, however, I was prepared and I dodged, barely feeling the graze of his assault on my skin. “If I didn’t like Theodore, I would have said something. Although…”

“Y-yeah?”

“It would be kind of a good idea to tell me why you came to that name.”

“It’s er… Kind of embarrassing?”

“Then it’s all the more interesting to listen to. It’s too bad that I don’t have popcorn…” He wiggled his eyebrows at me, which, to his credit, alleviated some of the anxiety I had concerning…. the origins of ‘Theodore’.

“Long story short, I had this friend when I was younger. It was a running joke, but whenever I decided to give him one of my origami animals, I would default to the name Theodore. His real name was kind of similar, you know… in that classy, old fashioned kind of way. And well… you kind of remind me of him.” 

I remember sometimes. 

I know a lot of people out there have in depth, long lasting memories of their childhood, but I didn’t have that. Most of my childhood was wisps and vapors, like the rising steam from a cup of freshly brewed coffee. You could just barely make out the steam, could try your hardest to grasp onto the steam, but you were only left with the fading sensation. 

The clearest memories were few and far in between. Of those that I could remember was my close friendship that I had with both Toby and Lyra. Sometimes, I dreamt of all three of us running around the Rogers household, smiles on our faces and laughter filling the air. I remembered Mrs. Rogers—Connie—baking us cookies, scolding us for our mischief, and tutoring Toby and I, side by side. 

But the memories that remained the clearest, was when I was next to Toby, his streak of mischief influencing me to grow more into myself. I remembered his sly jokes, his rash stupidity, his love for his sister… 

His friendship with me…

He didn’t have the patience for origami, but he would watch me sometimes, his head on his desk and his eyes trained on my agile fingers. It must have been uncomfortable for him to angle his head like that, but he always refused to move. 

He was such a weirdo, but I loved him more for it.

Theodore was an inside joke between us. Toby was short for Tobias and well, I once asked Mrs. Rogers if there were other options if Toby wasn’t in the cards. She had come up with a plethora of names that started with T, but Theodore never came up. I pitched it to Toby and he laughed. 

He told me that Theodore sounded too old for him, maybe Theo. I agreed, but from then on, I designated that name onto whatever passable origami animal I gifted to him.

After that incident… 

Were all my origami animals gone because of the fire? Or had Toby gotten rid of them all as we inevitably grew apart in terms of distance and relationship? 

“Good memories, I hope?”

I looked up at the young man—Theodore. A pensive look on his face graced his features, but he kept his eyes solely on me. If it were anybody else, I would have quailed at his constant, insistent staring, but the familiarity. 

The comfort that his staring brought me. 

Even his shoulder rolling and neck cracking, the symptoms of a disorder that I intimately knew about that would have put off anyone who didn’t know any better… I felt safe. Like I was being wrapped in an old blanket that I had as a child, but it had been newly washed. 

Something nagged at me, but I shoved that feeling down. 

I grinned toothlessly. My eyes met his—dark and foreboding under the right circumstances, but I was undaunted. 

“The best.”

I held up a crane and showed it to him, my fingers lightly tracing against the creases and the delicate beak that I had pressed painstakingly earlier. 

“Now, let’s get to it, shall we?”

David’s eyes met my own as he sauntered into the store. I grinned up at him in polite courtesy, as I welcomed him. 

“Been burning the midnight oil?” His gaze dropped down to the counter where I had a plethora of malformed cranes and a few origami boxes that I happened to also teach Theodore after he mastered the crane. I hadn’t noticed, but all of the folded animals were littering the counter like a mini zoo. 

I laughed under my breath, the heat upon my cheeks burning more in intensity as I swept the papers into my backpack. I would throw away what I didn’t like later, maybe after my customary nap. 

“You could say that.”

As I was about to swipe one of the last few cranes into the deep void that was my backpack, David took it upon himself to help me with the process, pausing only to glance at one of the paper birds.

“Hey, this one’s looking a little wonky.” I glanced over and felt myself wince on the inside. It was supposed to be a crane and it definitely looked like it if you quirked your head to the side and squinted. If I had made that crane, I would have been mortified. Seriously, I had been into origami since I was a little kid, there was no way that I could ever be that bad.

No, that crane in question was made by none other than Theodore. I had told him that it was a nice first try. He looked a little pained (irritated?) by the fact that his crane turned out less than exemplary, but he forced himself to try again. 

And again.

And again.

As he continuously worked, I noticed that his fingers, while scarred, were actually really nice looking. Thin and slender, every movement made with purpose and control. It was a far cry from his tremors or his erratic movements that came and went without warning. Now that I had given him something to do, something that needed concentration and focus, his body was under control. 

I hadn’t realized it before, but watching people make origami, or do something that requires fine motor control and movements… It was actually relaxing. I wonder, was this why Toby used to watch me all the time when we were kids? I thought I was boring him…

There was that one time he fell asleep with his head on my shoulder when I tried making an origami dodecahedron. At the time, I was saddened that I had wasted his time, but now, thinking back on it, he probably felt comfortable to rest his head on me…

“Aren’t you usually better at these types of things?” 

“Yup! I just gave away the best of my work to a customer a little while ago.”  

That was the truth. After the impromptu session with Theodore, I managed to convince him to take the best of the crop. In my mind, I thought that it would be a good incentive for him to remain confident in his abilities to create such fragile, nice things. Initially, he had refused, but after a brief argument, he had acquiesced. 

He even bought some chips, so that made him a customer!

Clearly, your shift was a win-win for everyone. 

David shook his head. “You could sell these little guys, you know?”

“Ha! No.”

He looked at me, scandalized by what I had said.

“Ellie! Come on! Think about the profits! The moolah!” He rubbed his fingers together and gestured towards the last remaining crane, arguably one of the best ones of the night and one that Theodore had insisted I keep seeing that he had already had a whole bunch. 

I shook my head and zipped up my pack, ready to leave. 

“Money isn’t everything, David.” After making sure that I had left nothing behind, I moved away from the counter and began to bid him goodbye. However, as I brushed by his side, I felt him grasp my shoulder, his grip just a tad too tight for it to be a casual gesture. 

Wide eyed and concerned, I stopped dead in my tracks. 

“Dav—”

“So, about Saturday…?” His voice trailed off. He seemed a little unsure of himself, a bit shy. Was he embarrassed that he had to ask again, this time to confirm? Honestly, I felt kind of bad. I knew the struggle that came with meeting parental expectations. However, that didn’t mean that I felt bad enough that I would give up my Saturday just to entertain his wishes. 

A strained smile pulled taut at my lips. 

For some odd reason, it just seemed odd that he would single me out. Did he have no one else to talk to? Seriously? 

Or was there something else?

Something like—

“I just thought that—” He scratched the back of his head. The embarrassed, sheepish expression on his face intensified as the red hue upon his olive cheeks began to darken. “Actually, I think this might be better to explain by showing you.”

Showing me?

He dug deep into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet. Quickly, he flipped it open and rifled through an assortment of old cards, receipts, and photos to pull out—

Is that—?

The photo was heavily creased and faded. It seemed like David had worn the edges and the material of the photo down over time. I could tell where he must have brushed his fingers the most—Lyra and Toby.

For some odd reason, I found myself reaching out for the photo. My hands shook as I unfolded the photograph to see the entire picture. David had folded it in a way so that at first glance, it looked like it was only a picture of Lyra and Toby staring happily at the camera. However, once I revealed its contents, I saw that David had slung one of his arms around Lyra’s shoulders. All three of them were happy, young. 

They were seated side by side on top of a picnic table. Remnants of what appeared to be a meal were scattered behind them as they posed for the camera. 

I squinted at the background. 

“Is that the park?” I looked up at him, feeling gratified at my correct assumption. Geeze, I always had fond memories of that place. it was strange to share something so intimate.

It was stranger still that he also shared the Rogers siblings as close friends.

Although, in David’s case, he was definitely more than friends with Lyra.

“I think I have more photos and mementoes. If you want—”

“Yes!” I palmed the backs of my eyelids, too aware of the fact that this simple gesture had me releasing waterworks that were the size of Niagara Falls. “I-I mean, if you don’t—“

Warmth encased my entire being. At first, I was so confused, I struggled a bit, but I forced myself to stand still once I realized that David wasn’t attacking me. 

It was still weird, though. 

“Hey, I’ll show you more of my keepsakes, but—” He pulled back, a terrifying grin on his face. Oooh, if he was going to say what I thought that he was going to say, then I was beyond screwed. “—you have to join me for my abuela’s party. What do you say?”

Shoot.

I would do anything for the Rogers kids. 

Damn it.

This was probably a bad idea, but the idea of seeing more of Lyra and Toby… to see them when I was schooling in the Philippines. There were so many opportunities. Maybe, I could even show Mrs. Rogers the photos! Emboldened, I nodded.

“Sure.”

He promised to text me the information later and soon after, I left. 

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder, was I too rash? 

Was I being too sentimental? 

I tried to shake my thoughts from my head. David’s grandma was holding a party, there was no way something fishy was going to happen this Saturday. 

There was something about that photograph that David had given me. Those smiles, the poses… How close were they? From the captured memory that I held, you would think that these three were childhood friends, not a pair of siblings that happened to befriend a person who needed tutoring. When I had kept in touch with them through email, they had never said anything about David.

Lyra, I supposed I could understand. She was older than me by a couple years and by the time of the incident, we weren’t as close as we were as kids. Sure, we loved each other like sisters, but our bond was steadily evolving—or regressing—into something indecipherable, something that neither of us knew how to adapt to.

On the other hand, there was Toby. We were closer in age and as the years went by, we were closer. However, when I left for the Philippines, it had taken a while for Toby to reply to my emails. Was he embarrassed that he was friends with me? Was he angry that I had been shipped off to another country when he had known nothing but his life inside small town America? 

Despite it being years since I had broached this topic of Toby and his reluctance to reply to me, I still felt the ghostly pangs of hurt. 

For some odd reason, I set the photo onto Kuya Ben’s old desk and checked my old email. Call me sentimental, but I always kept my correspondence with friends. There was a folder labelled ‘Toby’, another for ‘Lyra’, and another meant for Mrs. Rogers. Of course, I rarely used email anymore unless I had to check in with security for logins or if I had subscribed to a website or something. Nowadays, if I couldn’t contact friends via text or calling (bleh), apps were the smart way to go. 

I didn’t know what to find when I went through the emails with Lyra and Toby. Lyra’s emails were always well worded. Eloquent. Full of life and compassion. Although she usually took a couple days (that later would become weeks to almost months of near radio silence as my stay in the Philippines lengthened) to reply, her return emails were always lengthy and well detailed. 

After the tutoring sessions with Lyra’s mother, I had immersed myself in the literary arts and it always stunned me how Lyra could use the simplest of words and phrases to construct heartbreakingly beautiful prose. I had complimented her in passing once and she had told me that if she didn’t work with Special Education kids when she was older, then she would either be an English teacher/professor or a writer. That girl definitely had dreams. Her stubbornness would have definitely been an asset if she had lived long enough to see college. 

Whereas Lyra was eloquent, Toby was… brief. Like Lyra, his replies typically took more and more time to wait for, especially as he grew older. When the accident happened, his replies stopped altogether. What he lacked in words, he made up for in pictures and stupid videos that he found on the internet. 

I didn’t realize it back then, but as I scrolled through old emails, I found something interesting. In every response that he made, he would say a quick greeting, probably answer a query in my last email, and then he would send me a ton of pictures of origami. 

There would be pictures of simple animals that were mangled and too creased. However, as I scrolled to the bottom of the email, he would post a final picture where he would pose with a perfect rendition of what he was creating. Soon, he had advanced from animals to roses, intricate shapes, and he even made a dragon!!!

Why didn’t I realize it before?

The long pauses between replies must have been the time and effort it must have taken him to practice and perfect the origami projects! 

The more I thought about that possibility, the more I realized that it must have been true. Toby didn’t like staying still for too long. Impatience was his middle name and I only made origami when Mrs. Rogers put her foot down when it came to Toby’s homeschooling. He dragged his feet whenever possible, but he was definitely an above average student whenever he put his mind to it. 

It was the same with origami apparently.

It would take him a while, with lots of pauses in between, but if he wanted to perfect a paper dragon, by god he will.

How did I not—

I shook my head. No need to dwell on the past. I had to… I had to find something about David.

After combing through the emails from all three of my Rogers correspondents, I came to the conclusion that they either didn’t think David was important enough to mention in the emails or I wasn’t important enough to know about him. Regardless of their reasoning, I found myself at a loss. It never hit me before, but the truth stood out in stark contrast to the thoughts that I used to entertain back in high school. 

Lyra and Toby… they only talked about things that only pertained to me and our friendship that we had shared before I had left. Although I felt the sadness of being excluded from what I considered to be a second family to me, I knew that I had done the same thing. Instead of sharing the new experiences that I had embarked upon in my new life in the Philippines, I had instead focused on the past. 

How could a relationship evolve if one is heavily focused on the foundation?

I suppose that also contributed to the long lapses of silence in between replies. 

Nostalgia overcame me as I leaned back on the bed and glanced at the photo that David had given me. There was no date on the back or any sort of written caption to indicate why they were at the park. Perhaps it was just a regular outing. Maybe they were celebrating something. 

I smiled. 

Even shy, reserved, sarcastic Toby even managed a smile for this occasion. Whether it was mainly for Lyra’s sake or because he genuinely enjoyed being there, it was hard to tell. Still…

I traced a finger down Lyra’s and Toby’s faces, both of them looking like they had a bright future for the both. 

It was nice to see familiar faces after such a long time. 

Chapter Text

At this point, it was second nature for me to knock on Mrs. Rogers’ door, wait a couple seconds, and then bound into the entrance once it was open. After a couple weeks of my constant visits, Mrs. Rogers happened to make a copy of her keys, something that made me somewhat confused. When I asked her, she had merely laughed and told me that I was free to come and go as I pleased—I was basically a daughter to her at this point and she needed some “help” getting rid of her pastries that she made on the weekends. 

While I did have the key to her apartment, I was still wary of letting myself in. Visiting apartments (or any living spaces, really) without the owner present was weird for me. I reasoned to myself that if she wasn’t there (after I knocked on her door) that I would leave and pray for another chance tomorrow or some other day. 

Often, Mrs. Rogers would invite me to come over for any reason: if I needed to talk to someone that I trusted, if I needed someplace to stay in case something happened with my aunt… if life had become unbearable… 

I hated to admit it, but that feeling of life being unbearable was often something that niggled at the back of my consciousness. It was a flaw of mine that I didn’t want to encounter or broach at any significant point in my life. To put it simply, I knew that I had… I had problems with anxiety and perhaps some self-esteem issues, but… 

I didn’t want to think about it.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Rogers knew all about a wide spectrum of mental disorders. After having raised her son mostly by herself, she was basically a walking encyclopedia of panic attacks, outbursts, and a vast array of encyclopedic knowledge that came with the territory. It warmed my heart that Mrs. Rogers cared enough, saw enough, to look past my pathetically thin mask of trying to pretend that everything was okay. 

But another part of me quailed at that. After all she went through, I didn’t want to burden her with my problems. It was one thing to mooch off her kindness (and her desserts!), it was another thing entirely to lean on her for an emotional/mental crutch. 

I… I respected her too much to do that.

I mean, she literally spent the majority of my first few formative years of schooling making sure that I could read and write as well as my peers. She spent the next few supervising the antics that her kids and I would get up to. Shortly after, she became a pseudo-penpal of sorts—a bond that had been forged after she had informed me of Lyra’s passing… 

After Toby’s disappearance. 

And now… What was she to me now? 

What was I to her?

In fact, did she really like me being here? Or was I annoying here? I had been coming around often, mainly because… because… because… 

God, to me she was family. 

Yet, did she only entertain me just because she was my teacher back in the day and because I was best friends with her kids?

Was—

“Ellie?” I glanced up to see Mrs. Rogers looking at me with a look of concern on her face. The lines on her face seemed more pronounced this time around. Crow’s feet lined the creases of her eyes, but what was all the more prominent was the lines that furrowed on her forehead. 

Had they always been there?

But this was worse:

Was I—

Was I that pathetic that she had to pity me right now?

Now of all times?

Like clockwork, I pasted a smile on my face, trying to look as innocent as a newborn lamb. My thoughts had been racing a mile a minute, unstoppable and flighty like birds after a startling event. Now, after Mrs. Rogers had opened the door and greeted me, my head abruptly became filled with cold, staticky silence. 

Swallowing thickly, I said, “Heya, Mrs. Ro—Connie! Connie! Heya, Connie!” I shifted back and forth on my heels, the movement grounding me back to reality because I had no doubt that Mrs. Rogers would notice if I dug my nails into my palms. “You have, uh, some time? Or-or-or… Is this a bad time? Should I go? I can always—”

“Ellie!” 

For some odd reason, my eyes happened to glance past Mrs. Rogers’ shoulders. 

At some point, I must have thought that I couldn’t handle meeting Mrs. Rogers’ eyes. It was a shame. I loved her green eyes. 

It’s a curious thing: eye color and genetics. While Toby had inherited his father’s brown eyes, Lyra had taken her mother’s green eyes. I had once asked them about the Rogers family, but I only got a few shrugged shoulders and a nonchalant response of divorce and broken families. 

I never quite asked about the Rogers patriarch after that. 

After a beat, I looked at her.

She was… 

She looked concerned?

“What’s wrong, Connie?” My voice trembled, and without my permission, my legs approached the mother of my best friends, my hands aching to console her. “Do you want me to—”

She hugged me.

Connie smelled wonderful. As I leaned into her warmth, I encountered the aroma of freshly baked cookies, of cinnamon, and freshly squeezed lemons. It was a comforting scent; my nerves, frazzled as they were, seemed to calm. If that was her intended effect after ambushing me with kindness, then it was working. 

“Why are you always thinking so much, hm?” She pulled away, but kept me close. Her fingers, lightly dusted with the remnants of flour and sugar, rubbed the apples of my cheeks. I can only imagine the sight I must have made.

Wide eyed, red faced, and now faintly dusted with confections. 

“You looked like you were about to collapse! Even now—” She patted my cheek lightly. “—you look like you’re going to faint, you’re so pale.”

I bit my lip. “I’m sorry if I worried you.” Hoping to interject some levity into the situation, I tried to laugh. “Besides, I can’t go pale! I have naturally tan skin so I don’t get pale easily, if ever.”

She tutted at me as she dragged me inside the apartment. Surprisingly, her strength never seemed to diminish despite her heartbreak.

“That doesn’t matter, Ellie.” She faced me into one of the kitchen chairs and began bustling inside the kitchen. Clanging became a medley that I had become more accustomed with since I was a frequent visitor. One time, I had thought about asking if she happened to bake for a hobby and that I just happened to stop by whenever she did it or if she had a special sixth sense specifically attuned towards my visitations.

She never gave me a straight answer.

The jury was out on whether or not she was a psychic.

Or a witch.

If she was, I was definitely going to rip her a new one for not teaching me some spells or spiriting me away to magic school.

Before I could pursue that train of thought, I heard the faint sound of a “ta-da!” and looked up to find Mrs. Rogers happily bustling back, a plate of something jaw-droppingly delicious. As I fiddled with my classes, I could see that it was a plate heaped with a small, decorative pyramid of macarons. Gently, she placed her masterpiece of confections in front of me and nodded for me to partake in the delicacies. 

“Umm,” I took one macaron in hand and studied the texture and the professional way she molded the macarons. They had the perfect shape, smelled wonderful, and were baked with pretty pastel colors. “I actually came to show you something. I don’t intend to stay for long.”

“Ooh,” Mrs. Rogers sang. I looked up just in time to see her smirk over the rim of a mug of steaming tea. “Are you too busy to spend the day with this old lady? I wonder—Wait!” Her teacup made a faint clicking noise as she placed it on the table, as if to make a point. “Has it finally happened? Have you found a nice young man?”

You know how I said that I was naturally tan? Yeah, given the heat that was rising on my face, I bet my face would end up looking very red. 

“W-what—! I—! No—!”

“A nice young lady, then?”

“C-connie!” I wailed a little. My head greeted the cool surface of her table as I tried to sink into the floor to escape. You know what was worse than having a biological family member who was female reprimand you for not having a love life? If you answered that it was a female who bore no blood relation to you, but did act the part of a familial member, then you would be correct.

It was also ten times worse because this woman was basically a mother to me AND she was my teacher. 

“Ellie, you’re my last remaining hope for grandchildren.”

“I’m honored.” Not wanting to pursue the matter further (seriously, what was it with people and romance… so weird),  I took a bite out of the macaron and— 

My eyes bulged out of their sockets. 

“Were you always this great at macarons?”

She shrugged, but she did nothing to hide the pleased expression on her face. 

“What can I say?” She leaned back in her chair, the soft smile on her face slowly becoming somber and small. “Picking up hobbies since… well, you know… I guess practice makes perfect.”

“Oh, um… That’s kind of what I wanted to show you today, actually?” I dug deep into my pants pocket and pulled out the folded photograph that David had given me. I wasn’t sure if she had ever seen this photo before, but I had a feeling that she would have loved to see this particular scene all the same. 

She proved my assumptions correct. The second she recognized Lyra’s blonde locks tied lazily into a low bun and Toby’s careless smirk as he slumped a little over the picnic table, she gasped. It sounded a little pained, a little delighted. The macaron slid a little too lumpily in my throat. I had not chewed it well enough because I knew that I had to give her an explanation.

One didn’t just come across such valuable artifacts such as this all willy nilly. 

“I, uh, David… David gave it to me.” My voice cracked and I looked away from the tears that welled in Mrs. Rogers’ eyes. “Apparently, he has more in store for me since he knows that I…” 

Since he knows that I used to be great friends with Lyra and Toby. 

The words dangled like bait to fish, but I didn’t have the wherewithal to speak them. Instead, I toyed with one of the layers of the macarons. It helped my racing thoughts and the gasps that threatened to leave my throat; a grounding technique that I obviously needed to utilize more. 

Her hand grasped mine and squeezed gently.

“You know, every time I see you, I see all of the happy memories that my children shared with you. I can hear the laughter, see the smiles… If I concentrate hard enough….” She choked a little and her grip tightened to the point where I looked up at her in concern. “If I concentrate hard enough, I can actually be happy for once.”

“Mrs. Rogers,” I gasped. 

“Don’t worry about me, dear.” Her grin trembled, the look in her eyes glassy. “I’m just so grateful that you’re back. It's like reclaiming a piece of my past that disappeared all those years ago. You gave me a reason to live.” 

She nodded a little at the macarons. 

“Did you start baking because of me?”

“For me as well.”

I smiled at that. Mrs. Rogers was so thin, frighteningly so. It would be good to gain a little weight over time. It was also good that she had taken up a hobby like baking. For some people, it was relaxing and it often resulted in a positive outcome—namely, full stomachs and pleased taste buds. Plus, if she really wanted, she could play up the whole grandma role and possibly scam people into buying her baked goods.

Hey, she could stabilize her mental health and stimulate the economy at the same time. 

“When you look at me, do you wish—” Heat suffused into my cheeks, forcing me to stop. However, I knew that I had to keep going. I knew that if I didn’t ask, I would always be left wanting, always questioning. “Do you wish that it were me who—”

“Don’t say that.” Her voice was sharp, her tone stinging like she had just whipped me with them. “Don’t you ever say that.”

“Connie, if I could, I would bring them back no matter what. I don’t want to see you hurting anymore! How can you tolerate me all this time? I bring up memories of the past and—”

Once again, her warm embrace silenced me. Tears fell like raindrops from my eyes. 

“You bring up all the memories: the good and the bad. This hurt I feel—” She pressed a hand agains her chest. “—it’s a good pain. It means that I still love my kids. Sometimes… sometimes it’s unbearable, but I am living through it. And when I see you, I’m proud that you are becoming your own person. I’m proud that you stop by and entertain an old woman like me. I’m proud that you’re taking small steps to become more independent and to move outside of your shell. Ellie—” She cupped my cheek. “I’m proud of you and nothing you will say or do will change that.”

I… I couldn’t speak.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.

Instead, I buried my face into the junction where her neck and shoulder met. Sobs racked my body as her hands, warm and steady, rubbed the length of my back in soothing strokes. 

“I’m sorry! So very sorry, I’m just worried that I’m a burden or that I bring up bad memories or maybe I’m mooching off you because you always cook for me and—”

I wailed and I cried and after a moment—

I stopped.

Wiped my face with the sleeve from my shirt.

“So, uh… Can I have more macarons?”

As I munched on more of the treats, I hoped that my eyes had lessened in their reddened intensity, that my sniffles had become less pronounced. There was only so much that cold water and tissues could do under the circumstances. Mrs. Rogers, bless her soul, didn’t say anything as she passed me a box of tissues and served me a cool glass of water. 

“So David gave you this, huh?” Mrs. Rogers studied the picture, her eyes narrowed in scrutiny. “I remember when this happened.”

Really?

That was definitely news to me.

The interest in my eyes must have alerted her to my curiosity. She nodded in affirmation as she pointed a deliberate finger at the picnic table that the trio had sat upon. 

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I made their lunch and I took this picture!” She laughed a little to herself as she placed the picture back onto the dining table. “It was… what was it?” Mrs. Rogers tapped her chin before giving up. “Maybe we were just out having fun. Either that, or we were celebrating something special that I can’t remember right now. Regardless, David begged me for a few photos.” 

Her green eyes darkened as she glanced down at her rapidly diminishing tea. “In retrospect, it was a good idea. A few months later, the house got burnt down.”

And she lost everything.

I hesitated a little before asking, “Did you ever ask for some of his photos? Maybe he has more.”

“I… I never thought about asking him. He may not have admitted to anybody, but he really liked Lyra and with the pain so fresh and new… I didn’t think to ask if he had any keepsakes.” A shuddering laugh wracked her body. “Planning to steal some for me?”

My lips curled up in a mock facsimile of a smile. “You could say that.”

“Oooh, so you do have a date!”

What.

Come on, this again?

“Connie, come on. David is a…” Someone I know who may or may not have been the cause of a person’s rapidly declining mental state and may have been doing other things like stalking me. “…relatively nice guy—” I managed to settle on that because I still needed proof. “—but that doesn’t mean I see him as a potential partner or whatever!”

Her eyes twinkled like emeralds. Honestly, it was like talking to Toby again. They were both too mischievous for their own good. 

“You know, that’s what they all say. But then—” She snapped her fingers. “—they start dating and get married!”

Ew.

Gross.

“But seriously,” I tried to change the subject, “David invited me to his grandmother’s get-together this Saturday. Maybe I can wrangle up a few keepsakes in case he has any to spare.”

“I’d like that.” Suddenly, her eyes went a little unfocused before she narrowed them at me in what appeared to be suspicion. “Did you say his grandmother was back in town?”

“Er… yeah? She’s celebrating something this Saturday and the only reason why David invited me is because he wants—” Should I tell her about the whole fake dating thing? Nah, she’d probably run with it and tell me that those types of stories always end up in a happy ending—by that, I mean that both parties end up meshed up in a romantic embrace or something. Cliche and gross. “—some company and Susie said no. It was a last resort kind of thing.”

“Huh.” She seems a little lost before she shrugs and pours herself a new cup of tea. “The last time I heard, his grandmother was visiting relatives in California. I didn’t expect her back until next month or so.”

I pursed my lips but said nothing.

“Oh well, maybe I was mistaken.” She looked at me with the eyes of a proud parent. It was an expression that I wasn’t all too familiar with, but one I didn’t mind getting familiar with. “I hope you have fun this Saturday. Don’t get too drunk!”

Ha.

“For the last time, Connie. I don’t drink.”

Chapter Text

Marshall wasn’t in a good mood when I came in for my shift. When he saw me, he nodded his head before he began scrolling up and down one of his dating apps before cleaning up the shop and leaving. While I had no right to be offended, a part of me felt that as his—friend? acquaintance?—non-enemy, I should have been granted an explanation or a simple hello, but hey. 

It couldn’t be helped.

Perhaps Marshall would explain his actions tomorrow or something.

As I busied myself behind the register, I caught sight of the door opening and closing. 

A customer already? I stood up straight and—

“You’re going to be doing something that you’ll end up regretting.”

Susie Clements stared down at me, her impressive statuesque height looming over me. It had been a while since I had last met her, but I was once again shocked into terrified silence. Although the memories of her panic attack were dulled by time, I could still remember her vulnerability.

Her tears.

Even if she scared me, I didn’t want to wish that sort of situation on her. 

“I… I guess you’re not here to buy something?” Immediately, I shrunk back against the rack of magazines that rested behind the counter. That was something I didn’t plan on saying. It had just slipped out! I peeked up at her fully expecting her to glare down at me.

Instead… 

For some odd reason, she looked tired. Now that I was looking closely at her, the bags under her eyes had become more pronounced. Her hair, once voluminous and beautiful to look at, was now lank and greasy. It had only been a few weeks!

What had happened to her?

“You’ve been sleeping well.” She crossed the small space between us until the counter dug deep into her waist. “Eating well, too. In fact, I am confident to say that you’re living life to the fullest.”

Her voice… 

It was dead. 

Monotone. 

She was full of life the first time we had met. Susie had a fire in her soul that flared in uproarious conflagration that was never meant to be extinguished. However, now that we were face to face, I could see that there was only a few ashes and embers left from her once roaring flames.

I shook my head. 

“I don’t think so. I’m just…” What could I say? All I did was live life peacefully. The most action that I had in the past few weeks was basically teaching Theodore how to make origami and eating snacks with Mrs. Rogers. Even the invitation to David’s grandmother’s party was a gigantic event. Compared to the rest of my life and to the lives of other people, I was pretty much wasting it.

I mean…

I could have aimed for a better job.

I could have applied for schooling in the nearest community college.

I could have done so many things, but I had only stuck to what I knew. What was familiar. What was the use of coming back and rejecting the lifestyle I had back in the Philippines only to stagnate in whatever stage of life I was stuck in now?

I coughed a little, too embarrassed and too caught up in what I felt like was an existential crisis.

“I’m just a regular person. How about you? How’s your mental health vacation?”

A lowly chuckle left her lips. 

“I knew that I didn’t exactly give you the best impression when we first met, but I am not heartless. A cold ice queen for sure, but not heartless.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Marshall that.”

“He was always a sucker for poorly written teen drama movies.” I filed that information away for later, fully intent on giving Susie all of my attention. “Back to the point, I mean it: you’re making a mistake.”

“What do you mean?” What mistake? What was she talking about?

Susie’s lips, which were chapped, began to split and bleed as she smiled darkly at me.

“David.” She leaned across the counter, her elbows resting gently on the glass surface as she let her head drop onto the support of the flesh of her palms. “Let’s talk about David.”

Considering that was the only reason I knew Susie was through David and the fact that there were some things that just… rankled at me, I knew I had to hear her out. That didn’t stop me from backing away a foot back. Susie didn’t look like she was in the right state of mind. Call me judgmental, but the more I looked, the more I took in that Susie’s state of mind had probably deteriorated far more than I thought possible. 

I mean, mental health vacations were like a self care sort of thing, right? You would think that would have made Susie look and sound better than she had back when I first met her, but now it looked like she had taken a beating every night since then, had engaged in possibly illegal activities, and did little to no hygiene maintenance. What was she doing?

Better question: What was she doing here?

“All right then, David. I, er, don’t really know him that well. So…” My face warmed a bit as I mumbled away through yet another interaction. This time, it was with a human being that I’m sure could kill me with one deadly stare. Shoot, this is getting more awkward than what I had anticipated. “Care to elaborate?”

Her eyes flickered over to the doors and then back to me. For a moment, she hesitated, her eyes looking blank yet terrified at the same time. However, as I shifted a little on my feet, she caught sight of my actions and proceeded to speak in a low, even tone.

Urgency was evident in her tone and in response to such a frenzy, I had no choice but to listen closely. 

“I’ve known David since I moved here a few years ago as a new senior in high school. He was a weird kid, always stuck in his books… and in the woods. He didn’t have big plans for college; the local one was all he wanted. We didn’t talk much back then, but he…” She furrowed her brows, as if trying to recall something crucial. “People said that something had always been wrong with him. He was a troubled kid at the beginning of high school and had never been close to anyone. Except for…”

She looked at me knowingly.

“Lyra Rogers.”

“So you’ve been looking a little into his background.”

“No,” I shook my head defensively. There was a mystery to be solved, but I hadn’t been looking too closely. “I was childhood friends with her before moving out of the country.”

She nodded at that. “Right. Lyra was a good kid; that’s what everyone keeps saying. She had an active social life, always kind and helpful. But then, she met David and that’s when things went wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

Her dark brown eyes glared down at me imperiously. Instead of the bedraggled, sleep deprived woman, she now had the look of someone who could lord power over me and knew it. 

“David caused Lyra’s death and her brother’s disappearance.”

I—

How can I reply to that?

What do I say?

True, I had a feeling that there was something about David Gonzalez, but the same could be said about Susie Clements. While the strangeness around David was based on my observations and the hearsay of what others said, Susie looked the part of someone whose word could not be trusted. I would love to take all of her words completely at face value, but this was too much.

Lyra died due to a car accident.

Toby disappeared. 

Obviously, Lyra’s death might have caused Toby to become unstable, which resulted in… Mr. Rogers’ death and the subsequent burning of the house. But, how did David tie into all of that? 

“I knew both of them,” I began, softly. “They were my best friends for several years. I know we’ve met once before, but if you’re just going to start talking shit about something that hurt me and the rest of the Rogers family, I will not hesitate to throw you out.” 

At that point, I was hurt and I was at a loss. 

I didn’t care that I was five foot nothing and she was basically a walking Amazon Warrior.

I didn’t care that I could possibly get myself fired for probably attacking an innocent civilian.

I loved Lyra and Toby. They were my family. 

It took me so much time to process and to accept that I would never see them again. To have Susie bring them up and suggest that there was something more about their absences from my life, it made me reel with something akin to despair and resentment. She could have been making things up. Maybe this was some sort of underhanded tactic to get back at David—whatever their relationship was before her mental health vacation. 

But why?

Why go all this way to tell me something about David?

Was he truly dangerous? Did he really do something? Or maybe I was reading into things?

Or maybe—

“You’re thinking too much, Ellie.” 

I paused and took her entire form again. Lanky, unwashed hair. Tall stature that stooped too far low to be comfortable. Her hands clenched every so often. And those eyes… those eyes that looked like they had seen too much, had lived through things that I couldn’t fathom. 

No.

She wasn’t lying.

However, she could be delusional. Susie could be under the impression that David had something to do with the Rogers’ demise. 

Hell, she had to take a mental health vacation.

She had shown signs of paranoia and anxiety.

She suffered a panic attack during my orientation.

Something was wrong with Susie.

So, that leaves one question remaining.

Do I trust Susie’s words? And if I do, what was I going to do with the information?

“Say that I believe you. Say that everything you just said was true. Did you go to the police? What evidence do you have? And why should I take your word for what it is without further verification?” I leaned back against the shelf full of magazines so I could look at her with all the impassivity I could muster. “I mean, you could just be pranking me… which is pretty much in bad taste considering that I’m friends with David. Lyra. Toby.”

Susie’s lips worked up. 

“Don’t trust David. He’s a liar.”

“That’s not a good thing, yeah, but what evidence do you—”

My words cut out when a pair of dark brown hands wrapped around my throat. There, right there! As my hands grappled with her tight grip, I got a good look at her face. There was fear—no, terror—on her face. 

“W-wha—” I wheezed in her grasp. It had only been a couple seconds, but black spots were flickering at the corners of my vision. If she didn’t let go soon enough, I could end up fainting…

That is, if she didn’t end up killing me by adding continuous pressure. 

“There is no evidence.” Her voice was low, steady. Slow. Each syllable was pronounced as if it were its very own sentence. “It’s not just David. There’s something out there. Something—” She relaxed her grip a moment, allowing me a chance to suck in a gasping breath, as she stared long and hard at the windows and the closed door. “—is always watching, always waiting for the precise moment.”

“What are you… what are you talking about?”

The way she acted, the words she said. It was like she was saying that (and this is if I was operating under the assumption that Susie wasn’t lying) David hadn’t acted alone. 

David wasn’t the only one guilty for Lyra’s death and Toby’s disappearance. 

Throughout all of my observations and the questions that I had racked up in my notebook, I did not think that there was someone else. 

Who...?

“The shadows… The trees are always listening.” Susie dropped her hands and I collapsed onto the floor. As I wheezed in and out again, fresh breaths of air acting like water to a parched survivor of a disaster, I could barely make out her saying, “The woods, Ellie. Don’t go into the woods. Don’t go into the woods don’t go into the woods don’t go into the woods don’t go into the woo —”

Confused by her sudden lapse in speaking, I slowly dragged myself up into a standing position. Once I righted myself, I found myself staring at Susie who in turn was staring at the door. Still somewhat baffled by Susie’s silence, I glanced at the entrance to the store. 

There was nothing fancy about it. It was just like any other convenience store door. Upon entering, a a person had to push inside. Upon exiting, the opposite had to occur. Aside from the door, there were the large windows that welcomed a view inside—conversely, it also allowed a pretty good view of the outside. 

When I glanced out the windows, I didn’t see anything in particular that could have warranted Susie’s reaction. All I saw was the street and the stores opposite to the one that I was operating. I mean, a street light flickered and a cute couple meandered past, but there was nothing strange to be found.

What had caught Susie’s attention?

I turned back to her, only to find that she was staring back at me. 

“Su—”

“It awaits you, Ellie.” Her eyes, once fiery and lit with life, had become dull. Dark. Like a fish’s eyes shortly after the slaughter. “It awaits all of us.”

For some odd reason, a chill ran down my spine. It was all nonsense—a stream of words that made sense, but didn’t have meaning once strung together. Yet, the way she said it with authority and the experience of someone more knowledgeable than me had me stopping short. 

She made me think. 

She made me feel like I was missing something crucial from the main story.

David was involved.

Lyra was involved. 

Toby was involved.

Susie was involved.

But something else was too.

Something that Susie refused to speak of, something that might be the cause of her mental deterioration.

“What awaits me, Susie?” I glanced back at the store windows and back to the young woman. “Is it David?”

She shook her head.

“David works for it and when the time comes—” Her next few words chilled me to the very bone. “—he will come for you as well.”

What the heck was with her and all these cryptic comments? I tried questioning her, but Susie shook her head. 

“You’re making a mistake.”

That was the last thing she said before she turned tail and ran out the store. As for me, I stood rooted in place as I listened to the jangle of the door’s bells ring into silence. 

If I were braver, if I wasn’t so inclined to keep my job, I would have run after her. However, what she was going through… It simply wasn’t any of my business. After this encounter, I now knew that there was something deeply off about Susie. Her appearance, the words she spoke, her actions. 

How much of the truth had she spoken?

How much was all a riddle that I could either ignore or investigate?

Without much thought, I dug deep into my backpack and flipped through my trusty notebook. 

I clicked my pen and began to write.

Chapter Text

For the past few days, I had been flipping through the pages of my notebook while living life. Whenever David came in for his shift, he would joke about his evening, about the upcoming party his grandmother was having (“Keep it casual and come over by like seven!”), and then he would wish me a good day. 

He didn’t notice that I deliberately kept myself back from replying. 

Yes, I would say something back if he asked me a direct question, but for the most part, I stayed quiet and observed. 

After Susie had told me, I didn’t know what to think. I hadn’t informed anyone that Susie had popped back for a visit or that she had spouted off nonsense that sounded like the ramblings of a mad woman. What was I to do with information like that? 

I couldn’t go to the police. Like I said, they were merely ramblings with no proof of… Well, even if we could construe her ramblings of proof, what was she even proving in the first place? 

Something was out there, something that had possibly made Susie into what she was today (if I were to read between the lines). Something was probably helping David… or maybe David was helping it? And somehow, Lyra and Toby were involved.

For some odd reason, those two were at the core of this story.

But why?

What made them so special? 

Or, was I merely deluding myself that there was something more to this? 

Susie could have been on drugs or hallucinating when she came to the store. I didn’t have much experience with those who were drug addicts or had mental disorders, so it was all up in the air. I also didn’t have much experience with her as a person. For all I knew, Susie could have been pranking me.

… It sure didn’t feel like one, though. 

All of this thinking about a mystery that may not have been a mystery was seriously messing with my thought processes. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed a break.  Flipping my notebook shut, I took a few post-it notes and began folding the papers into creases and lines reminiscent of birds, frogs, and other animals. Within an hour, I managed to create a zoo that took up the space all over the counter. If I arranged them into groups, I could make them into a battalion of animals ready to attack at a moment’s notice.

Ha.

If the “thing” that awaited me was coming to get me (whatever it was), I was definitely going to rely on these animals for protection. 

A herd of dogs were commanded by cranes and these cranes heeded the order of a—

“Cool, a ninja star. I hadn’t seen one of those in… well, it’s been a while.”

I looked up, a broad smile already on my face. There was something more about Theodore that just made me happy. I may not have been the best at making or keeping friends nowadays, but I definitely had something that resembled a pretty cool friendship with him.

Unless, he didn’t consider himself to be friends with me. Now that was just a bummer. 

“Heya, Theodore! It’s been a while since your last lesson with me.” I couldn’t help but show a little mischief. “Are you already bailing after just two lessons?”

“Didn’t we have three?”

I shrugged. Who kept count anyway?

As he leaned against the counter, Theodore reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone. The case was black and interestingly enough, it looked new. He didn’t seem like the type to keep his phone in tip-top shape, but I guess I must have judged him wrong. 

“Anyway, since you’ve been teaching me origami, I thought that I could teach you something in return.” He looked at me in challenge, but there was some sort of nervousness in his gaze. Him? Nervous? That was odd, but I took it in stride.

I peered at his phone, specifically at the screen where I saw some sort of game blipping on the screen. 

“Teach me what?” If he was going to teach me what I thought he was going to teach me, then this was definitely not going to end in a good night for me. “I don’t know about you, but I already know how to operate a phone.”

He smiled a little wider than before as he gestured at the screen.

“Then you already know the basics. Today, Origami Girl, we’re going to learn about the finer points of a battle royale.”

Fun fact about me: I don’t understand the hype about online games. 

Back in college, I had a bunch of friends who tried to convince me to join online things like… umm… What were they called? MMOs? RPGs? I don’t know for sure, but I can say this with certainty: online games and apps don’t mesh with me well at all.

As I clicked my tongue in exasperation (the sudden sad music was supposed to mean that I lost again, right?), Toby looked at me in what appeared to be fond exasperation and awe.

“Geeze, you’re just as bad as my coworkers.” He sounded genuinely impressed, like he didn’t expect this level of incompetence from me. “Like, they’re a millennium older than me, but you’re acting like you don’t play games on your phone at all.”

I had half a mind to slam his phone onto the counter, never mind the fact that this wasn’t my phone and the counter was glass. I settled for shoving his phone against his chest and slouching over the counter. 

“I don’t.”

He looked at me in what I could only assume to be in a scandalized manner. 

“You can’t be serious.”

I shook my head. There was an air of mischief in me again that rose up like a gentle wave. It was odd, but in a comforting way. It was like greeting an old friend after years of absence. 

I hadn’t had time to kid around when my family put so much pressure on me. 

“There’s a reason why I always bring along a book or spare scraps of paper. Here, you want proof?” I unlocked my phone and showed him all of the apps that I had on display.

A low whistle resounded throughout the shop. He swiped from screen to screen, his frown becoming deeper as he processed just how boring and spartan-like my phone was.

“Geeze, how old are you?” He tossed my phone from hand to hand, but at a height that I wasn’t too bothered by. “All you have are the basic apps that you can’t uninstall and uh… A writing program? You don’t even have apps for social media!”

I shrugged, unperturbed by his curiosity and questions. I had received enough flack from my classmates before, but I was more than fine with what I had. They were just apps, nothing more than distractions.

I told Theodore as such, but he merely huffed a little at me.

“You’re no fun.” 

Was he… Was he really whining at me? Gosh, despite how childish he sounded, it was actually kind of cute. 

I—

I mean—

“Hmm? You’re the one who’s always coming back. Seems like you’re finding me fun just fine.” He groused at me, but I shot back with a smile that must have taken him off guard.

(I’m not joking. He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek while he scratched at the back of his neck. It also didn’t escape my notice that he began to whistle and crack his neck with a little more persistence than usual). 

This was… nice.

Still, as much as I would like the moment to last, it had to pass. He passed my phone back to me and pointed again at his own phone. 

“Come on, you’ve been teaching me all these cute tricks with origami, why can’t I teach you how to play one game?” 

Frustration. That was what I could hear from him. But there was also something there. It was faint, but the hint that I could hear from his tone of voice was enough for me to take in. It seemed like he was desperate for something, but what could have that been?

Teaching, he wanted to teach me something. 

Is it because—

I leaned back, a small little smile fighting to grow larger on my lips.

“Are you trying to pay me back for all of my free lessons?”

“Technically, I had to buy junk food to justify why I was even here.”

I leaned forward so that I was only a foot away from his face and quirked my head a little to the left. 

“And—?” I continued to press.

He rolled his eyes just a little bit while muttering something that sounded a lot like, “You know, I liked you a little better when you were shyer than this,” before saying aloud, “Fine. That’s what friends do, right? Pay each other back with um… servitude and stuff? There’s like, love languages and I thought that I could make it up to you and um… Shoot, are you turning red? Is that a normal thing for you or—”

I waved his concerns away as I valiantly tried to calm the reddening blush on my face. Upon the realization that he was doing this because he was embarrassed and he wanted to pay me back because we were friends… It was honestly endearing. Given how usually smooth and cool he was during our previous interactions, I hadn’t anticipated the off chance information dump that he could have been as socially awkward as I was. 

It was… definitely something that I wasn’t used to.

I chuckled softly to signal that I wasn’t at all injured or whatever was going through Toby’s mind. Instead, I smiled at him and waved my hands in what I hoped he would interpret to be a placating, calming motion. 

“Hey, it’s okay, Theodore! You don’t have to pay me back or anything. I love origami; teaching it to other people makes it even more fun! Besides—” I leaned in a little closer to whisper a little conspiratorially. “—if I’m being honest, the graveyard shift is hecking boring so you’re doing me a favor by keeping me company.”

I leaned back to catch the pained grimace on his face (a fake one because I could see the relieved glimmer and the mischief in his eyes). 

“Hecking? Origami Girl, you’re like… What? Seventeen? Learn how to swear.”

“Oh my goody, goody gumdrops! I’m a bit older than that!”

His teeth glinted a little under the fluorescence, pure mischief glittered in his dark brown eyes.

“Oh? How much older?”

I didn’t notice it, or rather I didn’t want to address it, but I realized that the counter that stood between the two of us did nothing to hinder the gap that was rapidly closing when Theodore leaned in. Was I also leaning into his presence? His face was just impossibly close—his breath ghosting over my face in a gentle waft of air. At this vantage point, I could count the freckles that were spattered like constellations across the tops of his cheeks and the faint wisps of stubble that gathered around his chin. I can only imagine that as a younger child, his freckles were far more prominent and that his attempts at facial hair might not have yielded such impressive results as it did now.

A part of me wanted to lean forward—the warmth and the playfulness that he exuded was so intoxicating! It reminded me of lazy summer days, of hands firmly clasped together, and the sound of childish laughter filling the air. On the other hand, I was more than aware that I didn’t know his real name, where he lived, or any personal information that would be beneficial to lay the groundwork for a relationship.

Theodore… this man could have easily been a serial killer.

Still, I stayed put and shoved a little at his chest in what I hoped would pass as a playful gesture. 

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to ask about a lady’s age?” 

He clutched at the spot where I had pushed him, almost as if he had suffered a fatal gunshot. 

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to hurt people? Look!” He swayed a little on the spot as his fingers prodded at his chest. “I’m dying of a fatal wound!”

“Ha.” I inclined my head towards the back of the store where I knew we kept bags of ice on hand for those who wanted to restock on icing their coolers. “There’s a bunch of ice in the back if you want to cool your…” I glancedat his chest. “… wound.”

“Such a cruel doctor!”

“Did I mention that you also have to pay for that ice as well?”

“Ahhhh!” He moaned.

Taken aback by his sudden keening wail, I could only watch as Theodore twitch, raise both arms dramatically in the air, and—

THUD.

He fell to the ground.

Theodore fell to the ground and oh my gosh I did not spend enough time getting myself oriented here to know the protocol oh my gosh what if he’s not faking—

I practically leaped over the counter and knelt to the ground, my knees protesting at the sudden collision they had with the linoleum floor. Theodore lay on the ground, utterly peaceful and silent. It was a shock. In the time that I knew him, his shoulders were always rolling, his neck cracking, fingers clenching at his sides… In fact, I was so used to the constant movements that his body employed, I barely acknowledged them anymore in our conversations. I mean, his movements were uniquely him and I didn’t mind it. 

I mean… I never minded Toby in the past, either.

Well, no time thinking about the past. Two of my fingers made their way to his neck where I easily found the carotid artery. Underneath my flesh, I could feel the pushing of his heart, of the blood that swam through his veins. Even his breaths were measured and still, as if he were slee—

“Boo.”

I looked up to see his dark brown eyes leering up at me. 

“Hey—”

Before I could reprimand him for such childish misconduct, I found myself being rolled onto the floor with his body hovering on top of mine. 

Oh.

Dear.

God.

Above.

What was happening?

If it weren’t for the fact that his head was so big, the fluorescent lights would have blinded me. As it were, the lights made it seem like Theodore had an angelic glow about him, like a halo.

Ha, some angel he was.

He nearly gave me a heart attack.

“What are you doing,” I muttered. I struggled within his grasp, but the wrist that he had caught in his hand stayed my movements. As much as I wanted out, a part of me was curious.

What was he going to do?

And more importantly, did I… 

Did I want to know?

He gently hummed as he studied me, an imperceptible look in his eyes. I swallowed whatever moisture was left in my mouth, not knowing what was going to happen to me. 

“You know… I could take whatever I wanted right here and now. I wonder—” He leaned in closer and all I could see was the stark darkness in his eyes, how they seemed to consume my whole vision. There was something hungry in them, just ready to strike. “—would you want to stop me?”

His words ended in a husky whisper, which left my insides roiling in what I could only describe as the fluttering of butterflies trying to break free from the lining of my stomach. 

“Are you… Are you planning on robbing the store right now? Cause um… I'm kind of obligated to stop you if that’s the case.”

Was my face red? 

Oh yes. 

Did I regret turning this conversation between us heavily awkward? 

Kind of, but I didn’t know how to react to this situation other than to pretend that everything was all right. Besides, his hovering over me was getting old real fast. I didn’t necessarily dislike it, but, ya know… It’s kind of weird to have someone practically lying down on top of you. 

Also—

“I may or may not get fired for this stunt, so if you would?” 

For a moment, I feared that Theodore would ignore my wishes. Much to my relief, he managed to get me with the grace of a mature predator. Once he managed to get on his feet, he offered a hand to me, which I took gratefully. 

Once fully righted, I glanced up at him only to see him studying me with a look that was… You know how you just know that something is familiar and comforting? Like cuddling an old stuffed animal for the first time in years? Or having one of your parents playfully ruffle your hair or just say something that gets you laughing like time and distance apart did nothing to dampen the love and affection between parent and child? 

There was something in his eyes that had my breath hitching in my throat. 

There was something here that I was either not seeing or deliberately ignoring.

What could it be?

This sense of familiarity had my tongue tied in knots. Just what was going on? 

I snapped out of my thoughts when I caught sight of Theodore rolling his shoulders. While his actions were usually unprompted and somewhat natural, it seemed like he was trying to force himself to act nonchalant around me.

“Sorry about that,” he coughed. HIs cheeks were colored a deep shade of red and he averted his eyes so that he wasn’t caught looking at me. “I kind of… got carried away?”

He scratched the back of his neck, but he still refused to look at me.

Honestly, I wasn’t all too mad about his sudden bout of playfulness that just happened to end up in him landing on top of me. Yeah, it was uncomfortable, but I didn’t do a lot to discourage him from doing so. If I were to get mad at him, it would only be safe to assume that I was acting hypocritical. 

I shrugged. 

“You’re good.” I nodded at his phone that he had taken to fiddling with some of the apps on screen. I may not like mobile games, but I knew that I had to salvage our budding friendship. “If you’re not planning on robbing the store, I guess we can have another go.”

Despite the bandage on the left side of his mouth, I could see his lips curling into a bright, beatific smile.

For a moment, I was taken back to a little boy who would drag me on many adventures, never caring about the consequences, but always ready to comfort me when needed. 

And then I blinked and found myself handling the too new, too expensive cell phone again. 

Chapter Text

This was stupid. 

So freaking stupid. 

Screw going to David’s grandmother’s shindig or whatever, I could just as easily spend that time reading a good book or talking to my old friends in the Philippines. I didn’t owe anything to David.

And I definitely was under no obligation to do so.

However, we were pseudo-friends (???) and even pseudo-friends had some sort of legalizing contract between them. I mean, there's a thing called loyalty and I always gave my all when it came to budding friendships. 

Still, the encounter that I had shortly put out of my mind until just a few hours ago with Susie… Her words were nonsensical, but perhaps that was because I was blind to the truth that there was something more to what she was saying.

Something profound.

Still, David was going to come pick me up soon. I couldn’t just back out—backing out should have happened earlier, at the very least yesterday. Besides, maybe I was just being too imaginative. Maybe this whole thing that was cooking in my mind was something that made me focus on something other than my search for something “other” to do with my life than to bunk with my aunt and to continue working at the store.

I knew that what I had was temporary, but I didn’t know how to change it.

That was something I’ve always wanted to rectify since I was a little girl. Change didn’t come easy to me. Either I didn’t adapt to the change or I couldn’t enact the change myself. Something or someone had to inevitably push me or I would be left behind.

More often than not, I wish I was left behind. 

The fact of the matter was, this whole thing with David and Lyra and Susie and Toby… they were nothing more than memories, specters of the past that I kept thinking and analyzing in my head like it was some sort of… psychological thriller novel. 

If that was the case, it wasn’t that particularly well written. 

Regardless, maybe going to this party would be a stepping stone in the right direction. Once I figure out that David was probably a harmless grandmama’s boy, I can just push all of this at the back of my mind and I can let it rest.

Lyra was dead and Toby was gone.

Susie was going through things and Mrs. Rogers had already spent time grieving over her family’s tragedy.

I… I had to put all of this away. 

Like a child putting their toys away for the last time.

Tita Chona knocked on the bedroom door, the sound almost languid and not as demanding as I thought it should have been.

That was another thing I wanted to rectify: familial relations.

“Uh, I’m dressed!” I patted the cardigan down so that the creases weren’t as noticeable and patted down my knee length navy skirt that I happened to own. Normally, I would have opted for a button down shirt and some jeans, but David had informed me that it would mean a lot if I were to dress up for the occasion—while bearing in mind that I had to play the part of potential girlfriend.

Ew.

As long as he didn’t expect me to masquerade as his lover in the future, then I didn’t mind getting dolled up for this event. 

As I glanced behind me, I saw my aunt look at me with critical eyes. Her deep brown eyes, squinted and narrowed after years of glaring down into the microscope and analyzing tests for diagnoses, were somewhat similar to mine. I hadn’t noticed before. 

What else hadn’t I noticed?

“Oh, uh, did you—”

I twiddled with my thumbs a bit, my breathing had gotten a little heavier. I was never the prettiest person ever and my fashion sense was lacking, but it still hurt whenever someone I knew criticized me for not being the person they thought that I could be.

It’s not my fault the part that they chose for me to play was someone I knew I could never be—no matter how much they wanted me to change.

She swept towards me and pulled on my shirt and patted down the creases in my cardigan that I must have not have seen before. Her fingers were deft and light—they were the practiced movements of a mother whose child had recently left. Although, in my aunt’s case, it wasn’t the same situation as Mrs. Rogers.

Her hands stilled, momentarily, on my shoulders. For a moment, I thought she was going to say something because I saw her lips part for a moment before she shut them. She stepped away.

“This David is going to come soon, right?” 

I clicked my phone open and spotted the time. 

6:50 P.M.

“Any minute now.”

She hummed before nodding slowly at me.

“You… You look nice.” Her voice became curt and perfunctory. “No drinking. No kissing strange boys. No—”

I bit my lip in an effort not to smile. 

“I’ll be back by ten or so. It’s just a birthday for his grandmother so I’m not expecting much.”

She nodded again before heading back towards the door.

“Ellie.”

“Hmm?”

She hesitated and sent one more considering look in my direction.

“You look nice tonight.” Tita Chona headed out the door and I unceremoniously stumbled onto the bed. 

Perhaps this was the turning point? 

As I mulled over the interaction that I had with my aunt, I felt my phone vibrate. I swiped open the phone and spotted a text from David.

He was here.

After shooting a reply, I grabbed my purse (if it were any other occasion, I would have gone for my backpack, but this was a special occasion) and headed out the door. After bidding goodbye, I headed out the door. 

Much to my surprise, I saw that David was standing next to a streetlamp, his figure was highlighted in the dark. As I ventured closer to him, I tried to spot if he had a car with him or some sort of transportation. Did he just walk here?

How suspicious.

Like, as if going along with David’s grandmother’s party wasn’t ominous enough. Geeze, if this was a horror movie film, I would definitely be one of the first people to die. I don’t think I would have the same amount of screen time as other characters.

What can I say? I am not the main character kind of person.

“Hey,” I called out as cheerily as possible. What I really sounded like, once the sound of my voice hit my ears, sounded scratchy and a couple octaves higher than it normally should be. Thankful for the night sky and the dim lighting provided by the streetlight, I struggled to face him with my own reddening features. Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded if he just aborted the entire mission right there and then. 

I was too awkward, too much of a liability for him to just take to his family. His parents and his relatives would probably right see through his plan and just know that I was just some random girl that he had wrangled in with only the promises of free food and mementos of old friends to tide her over.

God, I was pathetic.

I could feel his eyes rake over my figure in what I hoped to be an appreciative manner. He was facing away from the streetlight, so his face was shadowed. Still, the heat of his gaze felt a little uncomfortable as I shifted from foot to foot, hoping to get a move on already. 

Almost as if he were afraid that I was going to run away, he stepped towards me and grasped my right bicep. 

I pursed my lips.

That was a weird way to greet someone. 

“Heya, Ellie! You look great!” 

Ha, a cardigan and knee length skirt combo.

Great was probably a code word for a librarian/teacher wannabe. It did not help at all that I rocked my glasses 24/7 all year round.

“Thanks! You too.” 

I wasn’t lying. Not exactly. With his tall, dark features, David Gonzalez was a man who cut an imposing figure. In the dark, I had to repress my urge to run back inside and cuddle inside Kuya Ben’s old bed. However, it was probably due to his friendly nature and warm smile that I could just barely make out under the dim lighting that I managed to find the handsome in him. 

I shrugged his hand away—why was he still holding me?—and rocked back on my heels as I glanced over his shoulder to see if he had a car or something. 

“A-anyway, are we walking or—?”

This time, the smile I saw on his face sort of stood out from the rest of his features. Unlike before, I could catch the glint of his stark white teeth against the shadows of his face, the way his lips seemed to stretch a little further than was necessary. I stopped fidgeting for a moment, a little mesmerized by what I could only assume was the look of a predator going after prey. 

This is it, I thought faintly. I should head back. I don’t owe him anything. I can just go back and pretend—

And just as suddenly as I thought about leaving, his arm slung around my shoulders and pulled me close to him. His heat was overwhelming and his scent had me feeling dizzy. What was that? It was coppery… tangy. 

I smelled this before, but where?

“We’re only like fifteen minutes away, Ellie.” He rubbed my shoulder up and down like… like he thought it was supposed to be comforting? 

BUT.

But it wasn’t.

What was he getting at? 

I shrugged his arm away and made sure to keep a foot of distance between us. Unfortunately, that did little to disrupt the easygoing smirk that he had on his face. What was up with David right now? He was scaring me and given his reactions, he knew.

But why?

“Look,” I wracked my head for an excuse as I surreptitiously edged away from him. Despite my attempts, his eyes seemed to follow my every movement, which wasn’t all that hard. 

No one was out there with us.

It was just me and him.

What did I get myself into?

“Look,” I said again, “I’m actually very awkward and nervous about meeting your family, so I might just turn—’

He leaned in close and canted his head to the side. His eyes, usually so dark and full of mischief were definitely dark, but there was an undertone of something other in his eyes. It was something that I had never seen before.

If I had, I would have never said yes to any of this.

Heck, I would have never said yes to the job. 

“But Ellie,” he whined in a tone that was both husky and  dangerous at the same time, “you promised! What would I have to tell my grandma if I came alone? And besides—” He leaned in closer so that I had no choice but to lock eyes with him. “—don’t you want to see Toby and Lyra again?”

He… he meant photos right? 

But the way he said it, it sounded a lot like…

It sounded a lot like he knew that there was more to the story than what was released to the news. 

He made it sound like Lyra and Toby were alive. 

But, that’s not possible!

And yet, I could see in his eyes that there was something he knew. Was Susie right? The more puzzle pieces that dropped in my lap, the more it formed a picture that still had too many holes to make out too clearly. What I could see clearly, though, was that David and Susie were involved. 

If that was the case, then I had to go.

If not to honor the agreement with David and not to appear impolite to his family, then I had to do it because I was friends with Lyra and Toby. 

How often had I thought about them after the stress of exams had exhausted me to the point where I couldn’t sleep? How many times had I wished that I was there? How many times had I wished that I had done more than send stupid emails? 

If I had done more…

If I had been a better friend…

Reluctantly, I nodded my head.

“I—I would like to see more photos of them.”

He grabbed me again around the shoulders and started walking down the sidewalk.

The more we walked, the more I realized that I was beyond screwed if David was hiding something. Was this a trap? What was I getting myself into? 

Still, I felt resolute in my actions. There was nothing going to stop me from seeing more of Lyra and Toby. 

As we walked, I noticed that we were passing through my childhood route to the park. A chill went down my spine despite the familiarity of such a location. Was… was there more to the reason why David was in the park when I saw him only a few weeks ago? 

Still, he did tell me that his grandmother’s place was near this area, so…

So perhaps I was making a mountain of a molehill. 

But…

I happened to glance up at David as we passed underneath another streetlamp and found that his features were blank. No… That wasn’t exactly right. He didn’t appear expressionless, rather he looked like he was keeping himself calm on purpose. 

You know how kids have to control themselves from being too rowdy or excited over something, especially if they were reprimanded. Call me crazy, but I had a feeling that he was doing the same thing. 

I mean, he wasn’t acting like a naughty child, but he was definitely hiding something. 

I faced forward again, hoping to walk past the playground, but all of a sudden—

“They talked about you sometimes, you know.”

“What?”

He looked down at me, a blank smirk on his face as he leaned in a little closer. 

“I think the real question you should have been asking me should be ‘who’.”

“All right then.” I took a step back and squared my shoulders, “Who?”

“Lyra and Toby, but I’ll be honest, Toby talked about you a lot more. He was always waxing poetic about how you were his best friend and that he looked forward to your emails.” David bit out a harsh chuckle. “The kid was annoying as hell, but he had his heart in the right place.”

“A-and Lyra?”

“Hmm? You know, there was a reason why I chose her to be my tutor all those years ago. She was super smart and pretty too.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t intend to.”

And then—

Blackness.

Chapter Text

My head, what happened to my head?

Bleary eyed and tired, I barely opened my eyes before I found myself wanting to desperately fall asleep again. I was not at home and I was definitely not in a place that was familiar to me. What happened? The only thing that I could remember was… 

Suddenly, I heard rustling a few paces away from me. I opened my eyes, straining against the cover of darkness that was only partially lightened by the waxing moon in the sky. The rustling grew slightly louder and to my confusion, I saw that it was a man that I knew well. It was David, but there was something… Something was off about him.

David was muttering something under his breath as he paced back and forth over the foliage of the forest. For some odd reason, I was seated at the base of a large tree, my hands and feet were bound, a gag was set tight in my mouth. I struggled against my restraints, but in a way that wasn’t obvious. I had just woken up and by the looks of things, David probably didn’t expect that I was going to awaken for quite some time. If he had, he would have paid me more attention. Whatever the case, David paid me no mind as he walked ten paces to the left and then ten paces back. Each time he passed in front of me, I relaxed against the tree and hoped that he would continue with this tirade of his.

A feeling of dread filled the pit of my stomach when I found that the rope around my wrists proved to be infallible. Without the use of my hands, there was no way that I could escape on my feet. I could try rolling away, but that was sure to attract attention and well...

I’m not that stupid.

The best that I could do right now was remain silent.

A part of me wanted to speak, to break the silence and get answers from David. Wasn’t that how all of this started in the first place? Wanting answers from David? Wanting answers about Susie, Lyra, and God knows what else? 

I was in over my head. I was right, there was something dark about David, but I shouldn’t have pressed and meddled in affairs that clearly didn’t concern me. Now… now I had no idea what David was going to do to me. 

Observing David yielded little to no information about him. Yes, he looked anxious, almost deranged as he lumbered up and down in front of me. Muttered phrases that made no sense to me were uttered under his breath. 

Proxy? Master? 

I don’t think I, or anyone else for that matter, need a bachelor in psychology to know that there was something weighing heavily on David’s mind to produce this sort of behavior. 

As minutes passed and the dread in my stomach worsened, I weighed my options. If I stayed quiet, there was no guarantee that he would calm down from whatever was plaguing him. If I caught his attention, at least I had a slim chance of convincing him to let me go. He liked me, right? At least, he considered me a friend up until a few hours ago. Bonds and connections still had residual feelings even if someone tried to sever them. 

Just when I was about to open my mouth and politely ask David to let me go, I heard the sound of footsteps approaching from behind my tree. David, so caught up in his madness, didn’t hear the crackle of grass and shifting roots, or that someone was laughing in the dead of night. Actually, as I rested my body flat against the base of the tree, those footsteps were too loud for just one person.

There were probably more than one set of footsteps. 

My heart dropped into my stomach.

There were more people.

Friends of David? Or were they more dangerous?

Regardless, considering the situation I was in, any and all those approaching were potential threats. 

Not many people know this, but when it comes to danger, our bodies have three programmed responses. The first two are pretty common and the only ones that seem to get any attention: fight and flight. You either go down swinging or you play it safe and get away from the threat. The thing was, not everyone had that advantage. Sometimes, people had certain abilities taken away from them, or they were put into situations where the first two options were taken clear off the table. 

Enter the third option: freeze. 

Freezing at the sight of a predator is not a sign of cowardice. No. Freezing made it so that predators would be less likely to take notice of you because they are attracted to the hunt, to movement. 

If I played my cards right, freezing might save my life tonight.

And if not… well…

I tested the ropes against my wrists and my feet. 

I was still immobilized and helpless.

At the very least, I tried my best. 

“You’re really desperate for his approval, Gonzalez.” 

I kept my eyes shut and my breathing steady when I felt a presence hovering near me. On the other hand, I heard David stop in his tracks. I can only imagine what his face must have looked like. Was he angry that he was being approached? Was he scared that he got caught with me? Or worse, was he expecting this meeting?

A part of me wanted to open my eyes, but my instincts roared at me to relax and pretend that I was still asleep.

David’s voice was low and raspy, as if he hadn’t had a drink of water in days. It sounded so painful and scratchy to listen to.

“Whatever, Wright.” Footsteps approached the base of the tree, I could practically feel David’s stare on my form. “Here, some fresh meat.”

Fresh meat? Was that a figure of speech or was there something more to it? 

Before I could ponder the matter further, I felt gloved hands take a hold of my face. The touch wasn’t gentle, but it certainly wasn’t too rough either. It made me feel like this person who was holding me was looking at me as if I were a piece of merchandise. What was happening?

It’s okay, I thought to myself. Steady breaths. Steady breaths.

This unfamiliar man, this Wright person, must have had his fill of observing me because he carelessly withdrew from my face. He must have stood up because the next time I heard him speak, his voice wasn’t as close to me as it was. 

In a tone that is best described as glacial, Wright said, “You promised us the other one. She—” Here, he sounded like he was disgusted by my very presence. “—is a poor replacement. Is it that hard to differentiate between women, or are you so incompetent that you let the other one get away?”

I heard someone laugh. Unlike Wright’s low voice, this person’s voice sounded boyish. At the very least, this other man sounded younger.

“Look, does it really matter? Clements is a nutcase. Even if she did manage to get someone to believe her, she’s no threat to us. Besides, what’s wrong with this one?”

All right, so David confirmed that he had something to do with Susie. 

He also confirmed that he was an asshole.

Which is a big thing because I don’t make it a habit to think ill of someone.

Another voice, mellow and drawling (was it a southern accent?) spoke. “That’s not the point. You should have eliminated the other one because that is your job. As much as we like to kill people—” Here, I felt a presence in front of me. Like Wright, he touched me, but his touch was fleeting and gentle. He didn’t take a hold of my face, but he brushed a few strands of hair that had been annoying me for a while. “—we always endeavor to keep the collateral damage to a minimum.” He tutted. “This is what we call sloppy work, Gonzalez.”

There was a sharp intake of breath and the sound of someone scrambling or moving among the fallen leaves of the forest. 

“W-what are you doing?” 

It was David. 

He sounded scared.

David always sounded so arrogant and cocky. I never knew him to lose face or his cool. Knowing that he was probably at a disadvantage (and that I was sure to be caught in the crossfire), my breathing began to gradually pick up and my heart rate rose. 

Something was about to happen. Something bad.

There was a clicking noise.

At any other moment, I wouldn’t have paid that noise any attention. However, I was stuck in the woods somewhere with at least three dangerous men. One of those men I had considered to be a friend. The other two, not so much. In this situation, I was well aware that these men could be armed and when I heard that sound coupled with David’s sudden change in behavior…

“H-hey! I was promised—”

“You had an agreement with him and you didn’t deliver. In fact, you haven’t been delivering for quite some time now.” This was Wright this time and he sounded cold and detached. “You know what he does with those who go back on their word?”

David didn’t answer.

I don’t think that he could.

“So, what’s it going to be, Gonzalez? You want a hatchet through the skull or a bullet through the chest? Consider yourself lucky to be given a choice.”

“Please, please, please.” David’s voice grew gradually weaker and more desperate. 

Without any warning, a sound echoed through the forest.

It was a gunshot.

Through sheer force of will, I managed to even out my breathing and to keep my eyes closed. That didn’t stop tears from gathering behind my eyelids or the scent of blood from reaching my nose. Back when I had attended college, the scent of blood was common, especially if you were starting venipuncture and hematology. It meant that if you withdrew blood, you had performed the procedure correctly. I was inherently fearful and woozy the first few times, but I gradually became accustomed to the sight and scent of it. 

Here, the scent of blood turned my stomach. 

One of the men sighed. If I had to take a guess, it was probably the one that had a strong Southern accent. 

“Well, this was a waste of time. Should we leave the body here?”

“Hmm… I owe Jack a favor, we can bring the body back.” Wright hummed for a second. “You’ve been quiet, Rogers. You want to help with the clean up?”

So there was a third man. 

“What about the girl?” That voice… I knew that voice! Young and boyish, but clearly mature. I knew him, but… But who was it? 

“What about her?”

“Well, we can’t just leave her here. It would raise questions and that’s the last thing we need.”

At that point, I didn’t know what they were going to do with me. Just when I was about to throw caution to the wind and open my eyes, I felt one of the men’s presences around me. It was like a shadow had fallen on me; I could feel his gaze piercing my eyes behind my closed lids. Gloved fingers traced a line down my cheek before I felt his arms snake around my back and underneath my knees. 

It took me a second to realize that I was being held close to this person’s chest and that I was being carried away in some random direction!

“I’ll take the girl and you guys can clean up.” That voice… I definitely knew him. Seeing that I was carried close to his chest, I had a better chance of identifying who this mysterious stranger was. One of them said he was called… Rogers. 

Rogers.

Did I know anybody close to me with that same name?

There were grunts of affirmation alongside a warning for him to come back as soon as possible. 

“Got it, Dad.” The man holding me sounded sarcastic as he began to walk away from the other two men. 

“I’m serious, Toby, get rid of the girl as soon as possible.”

The man must have said something in reply, but I was too caught up in my thoughts that resembled that of a tsunami. 

Toby Rogers? As in Tobias Erin Rogers? That kid I used to play and hang out with?

Didn’t he disappear? 

Wasn’t it heavily implied that he had killed his father?

Hold on. Breathe. 

Breathe.

Maybe this was all a coincidence? 

Hahaha, Rogers was a common surname and Toby was also kind of common? Like, the chances were slim, but it could still be there!

What kind of friend would I be if I had never recognized an old friend? Granted, puberty happened and I wasn’t actively looking for him and—

Shoot.

Puberty happened.

Oh, dear. I’m not sure if my brain can reconcile the fact that Toby Rogers grew up. We did keep in contact a few years after I had left the country, but it was mainly online through chat and even then, I mainly talked to Lyra. Just… how?

“I know you’re awake.”

My eyes snapped open only to close again when I saw a pair of orange goggles glaring down at me.

“Hey, Origami Girl.”

Theo—no, Toby Rogers—stopped in the midst of the park trail and set me down on my feet. Despite my earlier blackout—courtesy to David—I found myself able to stand tall on my feet. Unable to stop myself, I moved back several paces while I glanced all around me, trying to keep track of where he was and when the next possible moment it was to escape. 

Toby may not have meant me any harm, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. 

As I moved, I heard Toby sigh before I caught sight of a blur and then—

“Ahh,” I groaned in pain. My bicep was caught in Toby’s grip, a grip which marginally lessened in intensity. “Let go of me, Theo—Toby!”

If he was surprised that I knew his name, he didn’t show it. Instead, he merely laughed before obliging me. Once free from his grasp, I knew I had to ask something that was bothering me ever since we had escaped David… and the others.

“Do… Do you remember me?” I hate to say it, but I sounded too hopeful. After all these years, I had my best friend back. These past few meetings, I had a feeling that there was something familiar about him, but this! This!

This was an outcome that I hadn’t seen coming!

Furthermore, if Toby was here, how come he hadn’t visited his mother! Mrs. Rogers would be over the moon to see her son back. She could finally live her life happily, maybe her eyeballs would disappear, and every time I would visit, she wouldn’t have to pretend to be happy to see me. 

I tried to rein in my sudden urge to hug him around the waist and to nuzzle into his chest. 

Toby was back!

Toby’s goggles, bright orange under the moonlight, glinted in a  strange manner as he regarded me. Fear and anxiety were not strangers to me, but in this situation, I didn’t want to rise to greet them as friends. Why wasn’t he answering me?

“You’re… uh, Origami Girl?” Toby slipped his goggles off his face so that it rested among the crest of his chest. “Listen, I don’t know what bullshit David’s been telling you, but like… uh… You’re crying?” 

Instantly, whatever badass pretense that he had been operating under disappeared as he hunched forward and grabbed within his jacket pockets, a few rolls of bandages, stray papers, paper cranes, and other baubles—all of which he threw onto the ground. As the items fell, Toby continued to tic (shoot! how did I not realize that he had Tourette’s and that he constantly had tics whenever he got too emotional???) until—

I found my vision suddenly obscured by what I think was supposed to be a wad of tissues but had—

“I-i-is that blood?” 

I think I mentioned this before, but I was part of a premed course. I had my fair share of experiences with blood, be it retrieval or testing, but… When you give a person a wad of tissues, it’s kind of a courtesy that you DON’T give them something that’s been used already. This goes even further because you just don’t give something that has been splattered with the bodily fluids of someone you strongly believe has been killed by the giver.

Toby paused as he examined it.

“Huh, that’s an A-positive on that one, huh?” He laughed a bit before reaching into his other pocket. 

“A-actually, you don’t have—”

“Got it!” 

This time, I was relieved to find that this wad of tissues were as pristine as the moonlight. Hesitantly, I took it in hand and folded it neatly so that it resembled a square. Not an origami square, but one that was suitable for hygienic purposes. 

“Thanks, Toby.” He beamed at the use of his name, something that would have had me smiling just as brightly as him, but given the circumstances, I couldn’t bother with anything more than a blank look. “How do you know David?”

Toby shrugged, but I noticed that there was a nasty little grin on his face that further darkened when he caught me eyeing him warily. 

“Oh, we kind of run in the same circles. He wanted to be part of my team, but the big bad boss was like ’nah’.” Toby clicked his tongue against his teeth, the sound sharp against the silence of the forest. “Can’t really blame the boss, though. David, although he had his uses—‘specially regarding my recruitment and shit—he’s kind of a wannabe when you get down to it. He was way too high maintenance and too zealous. Plus, the boss isn’t in dire need for new recruits lately. But….” He stopped and regarded me. There was something searching in his eyes, almost as if he was expecting something from me. I don’t know what, but the instant I held his gaze head on, he smiled and rocked back on his heels like a boy caught in the middle of an embarrassing situation. “Actually, you know what? Looks like David finally did something worthwhile before he died!”

I gulped. 

Nervousness and anxiety were no strangers to me, but this sudden feeling of ice being injected into my veins at high speeds was something close. What was he getting at?

Was Toby involved with some sort of… gang? Was this what Susie was getting at? I mean, she wasn’t all that coherent and I still wondered by whatever was supposedly waiting for me, but—

Toby snapped his fingers in front of my face. 

“You know, you’re a lot more than I gave you credit for. Of course, you could just be in shock, but you’re actually doing really well right now.”

“Well?” I echoed. I started to shake as tears gathered in my eyes and hysterical laughter began to leave my lips. “Well? Toby, don’t you know who you are? Don’t you know who I am?” 

With every question, my voice rose high in pitch and volume. Emotion overcame me like a tidal wave wiping away the last few traces of manmade castles upon a beach. So caught up in past memories and the present information that I was just barely processing, I didn’t notice that I was standing so close to him, his body heat was meddling with my senses far more than I cared to admit. 

“What about C-c-connie?” I beat my fist against his chest. “Don’t you care about Lyra? What the hell happened after that damn car crash!”

I barely registered his whispered, “Lyra?” before I collapsed onto the ground. Sticks and random bits of pebbles dug deep into my legs and knees, but I paid no mind to the fact that my skirt was more than likely getting sullied by the forest floor. Sobs wracked my throat, my tears burning like acid while my lungs felt like there was nothing to breathe. 

My head fell forward to my chest and in an act of self-preservation, I tugged my knees close to me and hugged myself. Cold—too cold! Yet, at the same time, I felt so hot. Everything was suffocating me, my vision was getting splattered with splotches of black and white and grey and I could barely hear anything other than the roaring waves of buzzing static that accompanied these attacks. 

Dimly, I tried to recall the grounding techniques that I had been taught during this one mental health seminar, but I could only think about the news of the car crash, Susie’s breakdown, the information that I had been collecting all these weeks, and T-toby’s sudden reappearance into my life. 

Friggin’ stupid.

Why was I so stupid?

I should have seen the signs right from the beginning!

I should have stayed out of David’s way.

I should have stayed away from the Rogers family.

Hell, maybe I should have stayed in the Phili—

“You know, you’re not stupid. At least, I don’t think you are.” A laugh. “I don’t actually know you that well, but you’re a good teacher and most teachers have to be smart in order to teach, so there you go.” 

Something was draped over my shoulders and head and before I could protest this, something even warmer and heavier settled over my shoulders. I was then pulled into a solid wall of warmth and familiarity so that I had no choice but to lean into the curve of what I assumed to be Toby’s body. 

“I—I—” My breath gasped and broke. For now, I couldn’t speak, but I badly wanted to.

His grip tightened just a tad and I instantly melted and felt myself calm. 

“Look, I’ll be frank. What I—we—do is kind of complicated and kind of illegal?” He coughed a bit, but I nodded to show that I was still listening. “Right, and the boss is very particular about his recruits and shit like that. The thing is, David did something a few years back that jumpstarted my recruitment and um… while the boss appreciated the sentiment, he didn’t allow David in our inner circle all too quickly. Something to do with recklessness, disrespect, and collateral damage?” Toby’s body went rigid at that, but relaxed almost immediately. “He got the job done, but in our line of work, secrecy is king. Anyway, when I got recruited, boss sealed away my memories because it would help with transition. So to answer your question…”

I sniffled and buried my face deeper into my knees. “You don’t remember anything.”

He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t need to. 

I unclasped the hold I had on my knees and looked him dead in the eyes. 

“Don’t you want to have your memories back? Don’t we mean anything to you?” Don’t I mean anything to you? Doesn’t your mother, your sister mean anything to you? My voice grew shrill, raspy. Even I winced at how my words scratched against the raw skin of my throat. “I—we—missed you so much, To—”

“Whatever you’re thinking… Whatever memories you have of me… I’m not your Toby anymore.”

I stopped.

That’s… that’s what I was afraid of.

Change…. change was inevitable and at times, it was necessary, but out of all the things in the world that I thought would stay constant, would be the bond that I had with Toby. 

Without any fanfare, I sprang up to my feet and tried to make my way down the path. 

Did I care that my vision was still blurry and that I was stumbling every few steps? 

No. I was going to leave no matter what and I was going to forget that this night ever happened.

Yet—

I felt his hand, gloved but still warm and familiar, wrap around my wrist. 

“And after this, you won’t be Origami Girl anymore.”

His grip tightened and I became all too aware that the buzzing in my head hadn’t abated, but had intensified.

Everything went black.

Chapter Text

When I awoke, I found myself unbound but helpless at the foot of a great tree. Unlike my previous blackout and return, this tree was something strange. Otherwordly, even. 

On shaky legs, I stood tall and backed up a few paces to glance up and down the gigantic tree. I had seen enormous pine trees and other various vegetation, but this particular tree stood tall and proud like an eldritch behemoth. Its branches stretched to the sky like it was tickling the underbelly of the heavens. The boughs were thick with the growth of dark green leaves, the gaps were so tiny, I could barely glimpse any rays of sunlight. In fact, if I looked closely at the gaps, I don’t think it was sunlight. 

It seemed like hardly time had passed since—

I whirled around in confusion.

Toby—where was he?

All around me, trees materialized in front of me. Seemingly timeless, yet so new at the same time. It seemed like I had been placed in the middle of a clearing, which looked like it was formed in a perfect circle. 

How convenient.

As I walked away from the premises of the original tree that I found myself leaning against when I had been sleeping, I noticed that the ground on which I walked sported grass that was too dark to be green, yet too lush to be brown. Now that I thought about it, it seemed like this clearing sported monochromatic colors, or at the very least, whatever original colors there were, it seemed to be exaggerated to the point where it was dark and could be confused within the myriad of greys and blacks. 

I continued to walk around, idly observing the trees. The trees appeared to be interlocked closely together, almost as if they were deliberately grown to trap someone in the inside of the circle.

… which was impossible because Toby had to have dropped me somewhere, right? All I had to do was find the exit, find Toby, and then—

I stopped in front of one of the trunks of the trees, my feet finding themselves unable to move. 

What did I plan to do after I found Toby?

Was I going to bring him back to Mrs. Rogers? How would she react? 

Mrs. Rogers was many things, but I had to wonder if she could stomach seeing her son again even though there was strong evidence to prove that he had killed his… father and had started a fire that burned down the house and had spread throughout parts of the neighborhood. 

I shook my head. 

Decisions could wait until later. 

I needed to leave. 

I went from tree to tree. All the gaps between trees were only mere centimeters apart. 

How strange. 

It didn’t seem man-made, but how else could I explain the fact that the trees were grown together as if they were meant to be one wall? Was that even possible? Trees had to fight for resources; there was a reason why there was a certain distance between most plants because the fight for resources would result in dead and dying plants with one victorious all over others. 

I digress.

Still, the never ending circle of trees began to annoy me. At my original tree, I surmised that it would have taken at least five minutes to complete an entire circuit around the clearing. Now that I was walking, I noticed that the trees were never-ending, as if the circle was always expanding. 

Quickly, I began to speed walk around the circle while I counted under my breath.

One…

Two…

Three… 

Several minutes later—

Two hundred three…

Two hundred four…

I stopped short and fell to the ground. 

My knees hurt upon impact, but I paid that no mind. How could I? Something dreadful was taking residence in this place. Was this a dream? Where did Toby drop me? 

Loud, strangled cries left my throat as I desperately pawed at the bark of the nearest tree. There had to be a way to get out of here. 

There had to—!

I don’t know how long I had scratched at the poor tree, but after realizing that I was doing more harm to myself than to the plant, I backed off.

You know what?

I don’t care anymore.

I marched back to my original tree, the one lone tree that stood in the middle of the clearing. Dread, which had been steadily building for as long as I had been there, began to grow to exponential heights. But the time I reached that particular tree, I realized that my breaths were becoming shorter and more harried, as if I had run a marathon. My palms, already bloodied, became slick with the clammy sensation of sweat. 

Something… Something wasn’t right. 

Finally, as I reached the base of the trees, I leaned my back against the steady stature of the trunk. Maybe, if I rested, I could—

The instant I reclined and closed my eyes, my ears popped and my head suddenly burst into static.

Black.

White.

Black.

White.

Spots bearing these two significant colors barred my vision from processing my surroundings. I tried my best to breathe deeply, in and out, but despite these grounding techniques, I found that the static continued to grow steadily in pressure. Soon, my head felt like it was too big, too inflated, to hold back my skull. Behind the sockets of my eyes, I couldn’t help but think that there was some foreign force trying to shove my eyes out of their sockets. It was like someone had pushed their hands into my skull and welcomed themselves to my eyes by scratching and pulling and twisting and adding more and more pressure to the point where I thought that if I kept my eyes closed any longer, they would simply pop out!

So engrossed in the pain, I barely noticed that tears were streaming down my cheeks. As if controlled by some outside source, my fingers brushed against the apples of my cheeks. I had expected to be greeted by the cool sensation of tears coating the pads of my fingertips, but instead—

It was warm.

It was sticky.

It was…

Blood.

My eyes shot open. Sharp rasps of breath scratched against the smooth velvet of my throat—the repeated gasps causing friction that breathed flames and sparked more pain. While the black and spots of static continued to persist, they had steadily abated so that I could bear witness to the drying patches of blood that coated my fingers. I rubbed two of my fingers together and found myself chuckling at the sensation of the blood starting to stick and dry faster. 

And then—

My head snapped up.

Blood forgotten, I rose unsteadily to my feet. Somewhere, beyond the woods, I knew that something was lurking. 

The trees that surrounded the clearing, straight ahead of me, swayed gently and from the distance, I could… I don’t know how to explain it, but my baser instincts screamed at me to move. 

Something was out there and it was not going to play nice. Taking heed of such thoughts, I turned my heel and—

Static roared in my ears.

However, my vision remained.

Standing amidst the great trunk of the tree that I had taken refuge in, I saw a tall, slender figure.

For a moment, I could only collapse onto my knees for the millionth time and take in the horrible creature’s features.

He was pale, like the brightest shade of moonlight or like glossy copy paper. However, his skin stood in pale contrast to the dark midnight shade of black that adorned him in the form of a suit. Beneath his throat, a tie as red as blood and as deep as the abyss itself stood as the only single ornamentation amid his frame.

Yet—

It was neither his clothing or his skin that took precedence of what caught my attention the most.

No.

As my eyes traveled up his towering frame, I settled onto his face and found my blood stuttering to a sudden halt, the resulting cold leaving me breathless and speechless. 

He had no face.

Was this…

Was this the thing that Susie had talked to me about?

And if all these events were connected, did this mean—

A voice spoke.

Well, looking back on it, there was no voice, but there was definitely something speaking. It was like a sense of knowing, of feeling, that reverberated through my brain until my inner machinations worked through the process of creating meaning. As I sifted through the static—up until that point, it seemed unbearable—I noticed that I could pick out something resembling thought.

A command.

Stand . 

So I stood. 

On shaky legs, it became far more apparent that this creature—man?—was far taller than what I had previously seen. The tree behind him was taller still, but that did nothing to hide the fact that this thing was practically ten feet tall. For a moment, I stared at his expressionless, featureless face. It took everything I had not to rush off into the endless emptiness of the clearing in a vain attempt to escape. 

Even I knew that a last bid to escape would lead to nothing more than wasted effort on my part and something akin to annoyance on the creature’s.

The static dulled until it became background noise. 

The creature was pleased.

You are either a coward or you learn fast.

Well now. I couldn’t exactly fight him on that. He was pretty much right about that. 

I was a coward. 

And now, because of my stupidity, I was stuck in this situation.

Static hummed once more in my mind, almost as if it were… humored (???) by my thoughts—was he reading my thoughts???—with a slight undertone of displeasure. 

Perhaps it has escaped your thoughts, but I would appreciate it if you introduce yourself.

It didn’t sound demanding, but then again, most people weren’t but they still get annoyed real quick if I hesitated and stuttered too much.

“Oh, er… My n-n-name is Magdalena Robles.” I coughed a little. “Ellie for short.”

Ellie because Toby liked to keep things short.

Ellie because I didn’t want to stay as old, plain, simple Magdalena.

Ellie because… because she was me.

I was Ellie—at least, I hoped to be her.

The static undulated and flickered. With a start, I realized that it was laughing. Even though I had a feeling that maybe this was a  dream, that this reality was too ridiculous to ponder and process, I couldn’t help but blush. I never liked it when people laughed when I said something. The line between people laughing at you and laughing with you was thin, blurry, and easily traversable. My skin was dark, but that did nothing to abate the heat that climbed up my neck and onto my cheeks. 

The static once again faded into what I considered to be a neutral sound and then—

I’ve been watching you.

Well, if that didn’t sound ominous, then I don’t know what will.

Might as well dig in. 

“Were you… were you also watching Susie??

This time, I knew the undulating static was pure humor.

Perhaps. Her mind is as weak, if not more, as yours.

That hurt. Then again, he was an unknown in a world where I knew that there should be some scientific statement to prove that this was all a hoax. 

It had to be a dream! 

A hallucination, maybe? 

There were a myriad of ways of how Toby managed to knock me out shortly after our conversation.

I mean… I needed to have an excuse other than the fact that I felt rooted to the spot why I was taking this so well.

If this was all real, then obviously I would have started screaming and possibly knocking myself unconscious in the process. There was only so much that I could take before my mind would begin to break. 

“Okay… er…” How does one continue a conversation with an eldritch being straight out of a creepypasta? So I settled on, “David. Toby. How are they connected to all of this?”  

If the creature’s face could bear an expression, I would have assumed that it would have looked at me intently. At least, the probing sensation that I felt in the corners of my mind indicated that thought. As much as I could say that I wanted to know the story in its entirety, a part of me begged for the creature to let me go. The sooner I left, the better I would feel.

Still, curiosity won out in the end and I stood my ground. 

Finally, after what I assumed to be hours, but was really seconds, the static spoke again. 

I saw potential in the young Rogers child. David was a tool that facilitated the process. 

“Facilita—” I stopped, a cold feeling washed over me. “Do you mean that…. David caused the car accident?” 

The car accident that killed Lyra?

The car accident that had caused grief for the entire Rogers family and had ultimately pushed Toby into killing his father and starting a fire? 

David was a good tool, but I fear that I should have done away with him earlier. Susie and her two companions would have made wonderful additions, but…

The creature leaned a little towards me, as if the deceased distance could amplify the resounding static in my head.

“But what?” I croaked. “Susie’s mental health is….” I shifted a little, unsure of how to continue. “And I don’t know what happened to the other two. What use do you have for Susie?”

I don’t.

The next few words stole my breath away. 

However, I do have a use for you.

My mouth went dry the same instant that I felt my legs stiffen and poise themselves as if readying for a run. My instincts roared at me to flee. The rational part of my brain told me that even if I did run, there was nowhere to hide. 

This thing would ultimately catch me. 

“Use? Me?” I shook my head, my actions frantic as my thoughts went into overdrive. “I’m not useful or anything! And I don’t even know what you do and—”

There was a sudden piercing noise in my head. 

Without knowing it, I knew that it meant silence. 

Believe me, Miss Robles, you are more than enough to make up for the loss of three potential proxies. 

I pricked up my ears at that word.

Proxies.

I knew what it meant by definition, but in relation to this creature…

“W-what are you saying?”

This time, I could catch what could resemble muscles straining to move underneath the porcelain white skin on the creature’s face. With horror, I realized that it was smiling at me.

You’ll make a fine proxy, Miss Robles. 

Chapter Text

There’s a change in the air, Cody thinks as he walks up the stairs of his underground laboratory and into the remnants of what used to be a well loved home. It had been some time, years he thinks, since he had known the comfort of clean, honest living, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way. As long as he doesn't disobey his boss’s orders, then all will be well. 

Still, that feeling of change does not dissipate, even as he skulks into the kitchen to find two other occupants hunched over the table. 

Kate, as always, keeps her mask close to her face at all times. Sometimes, Cody thinks she’s more animal than human with the way she acts. The first time they had met, she had hissed whenever he walked too close to her. 

Next to her, Natalie clicks her pen, the rhythm an unconscious way for her to keep her thoughts in order. There’s a sketchbook that is far more battered than what Cody thinks is necessary, but Natalie doesn’t mind. The messiness helps her creativity, she claimed. 

Cody sat at the third available chair at the circular table (if needed, it could seat up to five), minding the gap between his companions. 

“You’ve got the call,” Cody rasps. It’s more a question than a statement, but he doesn’t like the way questioning makes him seem vulnerable. “Seemed pretty insistent.”

Natalie, of the two girls, was the one who spoke. Unlike Kate, Natalie had no qualms with speaking her mind. In fact, she usually took it upon herself to say things that everyone was thinking, but no one wanted to speak about. 

“The boss is always insistent, Rogers.” She rolled her one good eye at him before drawing a decisive line in the middle of her sketch. “He’s probably going to chew us out for that failed mission last week.”

She muttered a few obscenities under her breath before lying her pencil flat on the page and looked up at Cody with a piercing stare.

“Well, you want to get the show on the road, doc? Or did you finally grow a pair?”

Almost immune to her insults, Cody shrugged before casting a glance at Kate.

“Did you feel him too?”

It was only because of repeated exposure and his naturally observant nature that Cody saw Kate nod. It was more of a twitch rather than a gesture that conveyed affirmation, but there was only so much humanity that was left behind after repeated abuse. 

The young scientist breathed in, deep and slow, before pinching the bridge of his nose. He had been in the middle of his work deep in the bowels of his laboratory, but when the static had reached him, the message was clear.

The boss wanted them. 

Sometimes, Cody thought that the static or the random piercing screeches in his ears was a product of hallucinations. Of course, when all other members of your party had supposedly suffered the same effects, it only stood to reason that you would check in with them just to make sure. Although, it may soon come to pass where one day, they would share the same delusion, realize that it was only a hallucination, and then… 

Well, Cody didn’t want to think about that. 

It was bad enough that he sometimes thought he was going insane. It was another thing entirely to acknowledge that his coworkers were just as likely to fall in the depths of insanity. 

But, really, when you signed up for the supernatural, then it was kind of expected.

Finally, after coming to a silent agreement (a practice honed after years of working together), the trio made their way into the woods outside of their quarters. The night was young, the sun resting gently in the cradle of the earth and sky. The young moon (waxing, Cody thought) was steadily rising through the sky, but was still somewhat pale and indistinct compared to the dying life of the sun. As they made their way into the forest, the trees beckoned them in. Eyes and ears were everywhere; these trees were probably informed of their boss’s need for them.

Or, as Natalie often whispered, their boss was somehow part of the trees. 

Cody teased her relentlessly for such a baseless idea, but when he followed Kate’s lead into the darkening forest, he made sure to keep himself and his rusted bat close to his side at all times. There was no telling what sort of horrors could come out and grab him. 

Germs were one thing, getting kidnapped in the boss’s territory was another. 

Their boss had reassured him that they were all safe, but again, Cody knew that nothing in life was guaranteed. 

The trees ahead thickened until they became nearly impossible to traverse. Even further still, Cody spotted a thin haze of fog further obscuring his vision. Knowing that Natalie was somewhat at a disadvantage, he turned his head lightly to catch her staring stonily ahead. Their eyes must have connected once, but Natalie had scowled at him with the force of a thousand suns, so Cody decided to leave her for now. If the situation wasn’t so dire, Cody didn’t doubt that she would have emptied out her entire dictionary of uncouth swears. 

It would have been annoying if it wasn’t so damn hilarious. 

Finally, when Cody faced forward again, he saw that Kate had abruptly stopped in front of two trees that were spaced apart at a distance where all three of them could pass without brushing against the bark. It was strange. All other trees were packed closely together, the density causing them to walk in a single file line. 

“Kate,” Natalie called out. “Is this—”

Kate growled low in her throat, her back arching as she lowered herself to the ground. She looked like she was about to give chase. Cody shuffled behind her, eager to see what she was seeing.

Past those two trees, there was a clearing with one gigantic monolith of a tree. At the base of that tree, Cody could see a lone figure slumped. At a distance, Cody could see that this was a human, small and female if the clothing was anything to go off of. At once, Cody tried to run forward, his instincts as a medic overcoming him. However, before he could do so, both Kate and Natalie held him back. 

“Eager to stick a needle in them already,” Natalie mumbled. Her words held a lewd connotation (one that Cody didn’t appreciate, thank you very much), but it held a concerned undertone. If the boss wanted them here, then— “You think she’s a new recruit?”

Cody shrugged both their arms off. In their haste, they could have easily cut themselves upon the rusted nails that he had impaled against the wood of his bat. As annoyed as he was with the sudden intrusion upon his person, he knew that he would receive hell if he were to accidentally nick them. There was only so much he could do to block out their petty cattiness. 

Well, there won’t be a new recruit if I don’t examine them.” He inclined his head at the still, unmoving figure that looked a little too battered for his tastes. “You know how the others handle new recruits. She’s probably bruised and mentally disturbed. I have to at least make sure that she’s still breathing.”

Kate hissed low in her throat, but it wasn’t one of threat. It was more questioning in nature. 

“Don’t worry, Kate. If she’s dead, then we can easily just give her to Jack or something.” 

That something, Cody wouldn’t be ashamed to admit, would be experimenting with a new batch of viruses on some fresh flesh. 

“And the boss?”

Cody shrugged. 

“We can always say that his other proxies did a terrible job delivering her.” He stepped forward and looked back with a challenge clear in his dark brown eyes. “You guys coming? Or are you scared of a defenseless human?”

As Natalie delivered a deluge of insults (“Jokes about my being an orphan are getting old.” “So are you, but you don’t see me complaining, grandpa.”) and Kate scampered to the side to watch, Cody approached the figure. She had a tanned complexion, similar to his, but she didn’t look Latino like him. Her features were somewhat indistinguishable considering that they only had the light of the moon to go by, but Cody could tell that she had lived a good life overall before getting dragged into this mess. 

She wore a tan cardigan, a blouse, and a knee length skirt that had probably seen better days. After examining her body, Cody concluded that the young woman hadn’t suffered from any major injuries aside from bruises and scrapes that must have accompanied her recruitment. Satisfied that he didn’t have to delve into his medical supplies for the newest recruit, the young man was about to signal Natalie to help him when he felt a piercing rise of static in his head. 

Immediately, Cody stood tall. 

His companions did the same as well. 

As one, they slightly bowed their heads at the newest figure in their midst: their boss.

Like always, he wore that suit of midnight accompanied with a blood red tie that stuck out against the starch whiteness of his shirt. His face, expressionless and featureless as always, seemed particularly blank this evening. Inside Cody’s head, he could hear the static pop and surge in a lilting manner: a question.

“The woman… she’s not too damaged. She won’t be requiring any major medical services.”

Cody heard a thump next to him. He turned his head only to see Natalie’s unruly hair and her one observant eye considering the young woman. She was curious, that much was for certain. Natalie thought that she could hide behind crude words and insults, but at her core, she hated their boss and didn’t wish this sort of life on anyone. 

“What’s your take,” Cody murmured, careful not to sound too belligerent within their boss’s presence. 

“Meh. Fragile.” 

Cody rolled his eyes.

“Gotcha. Please don’t kill her.” He then brushed the dirt off his pants before turning back towards the boss. Although the figure had not moved from his spot, Cody could tell that the boss was“ watching his every movement, like a predator stalking his prey’s movements. Years may have passed from his initial recruitment into the boss’s service, but Cody couldn’t help but inwardly quail at the sight of the creature. 

Tall, otherworldly. 

Ancient, towering.

A tree that had grown into its sentience and enslaved others.

Cody inclined his head, eager to hear a set of instructions. The sooner the boss informed them of the woman’s part in all of this, the sooner they could leave. Seeing his boss again would be enough to last a lifetime. 

The buzzing in his head dipped for a second before resuming full force.

A forceful demand.

The woman will be made into a medic for the other group. When she wakes, she will be disoriented. I trust that you will see to her needs until she learns how to do things on her own, yes?

Cody nodded. If he looked to the side, he would have seen that Kate had scurried closer, but still at a fair distance away to mark her as something more inclined towards her basic instincts. It became all the more unnerving with the way her eyes didn’t falter or waver from analyzing—sizing up—their newest charge. If Cody didn’t know any better, he would think that Kate was planning on eating her. 

Well, she definitely wouldn’t be the first cannibal he would come across. 

Natalie rose to her feet. 

“Noted.” Her voice sounded almost bored as she stuffed her artist’s hands into the pockets of her jacket. The undercurrent of tension was barely noticeable, but added the sort of finality in her voice that made it seem like she itched to go back into their hovel. 

Cody agreed with her on that.

Anywhere was better than within this broken cluster of trees. 

And with him .

“Got another assignment or are we free to go?” 

The creature, their boss , had only one thing to say.

Do not damage the girl. 

And with that, all three of them fell onto the ground as they clutched their heads in agony. A sound that rivaled the nothingness of static and the piercing shrill notes of high pitched tones ricocheted without mercy into their brains. The sound was instant. 

The time it took for the pain to fade was not. 

Whenever their boss had laid down the law like this, the effect varied. Sometimes, they were down for the count for a matter of minutes. One time, Natalie reported they were out for almost over an hour. It never boded well for anyone involved. Regardless, when Cody happened to check his wristwatch, he saw that only a little over half an hour had elapsed—the time including the trek to the meeting place. 

All in all, other than the fact that the boss could have easily teleported the woman closer to the house— in the house to be more precise —the meeting wasn’t too bad. It seemed pointless, but well… Perhaps the creature had something else to gain. 

“Here.” 

Cody had barely a second to collect his wits about him when he found himself covered in a pliant human body covering his own. Swearing Spanish phrases with a few choice words lifted from Natalie’s dictionary, Cody made as if to move, but couldn’t. As much as he hated to admit it, Cody was by far, the weakest in their group. He was the medic and had only received enough training to swing his bat without any undue damage to himself or his colleagues. 

Natalie, tall and broad shouldered, reckless and brash, was a brawler through and through. Sometimes, Cody got the impression that she fought so much because she didn’t know what to do with the daunting surplus of anger that she had stored away in whatever pitiful backstory that she refused to share with anyone. 

Not that Cody cared. 

Kate, while best suited for reconnaissance and wearing down prey, could throw a better punch than Cody any day of the week. She was a scrappy little thing when it came down to close quarters combat, but preferred to run opponents ragged until she struck. Her calculating nature was at odds with her animalistic noises, but Natalie had told him not to overthink things. 

Simply put, Cody realized that the woman, while short, was a bit on the heavier side. 

“Damn it, Natalie! Get her—”

The brunette had the audacity to flick him on the nose as she shouldered his bat upon her shoulders. To anyone else, she may have cut the imposing figure, but all Cody could see was that she was usurping his favored weapon. Not only did it serve its purpose of putting prey into their place, but it also served as a way to remind himself that he was intimidating—that he was chosen by an eldritch abomination and screw anyone else who thought otherwise. 

He was a bit short, yeah, but not that short. 

And he was definitely not scrawny .

“She’s gonna be a medic, yeah? That means you’re in charge of her. Which means…” She pointed at him with the business end of his baseball bat. The wicked gleam in her eyes became all the more eerie as they glowed a little in the dark. 

“I can’t carry her all by myself.” When Cody shoved the woman off himself, the body finally rolled over so that he could have a proper argument with Natalie. “Show some compassion!”

Natalie rolled her eyes. 

“Tell that to the rabbit.”

Jesus Christ. 

Cody glanced down and after seeing something that he would rather not have witnessed, pressed his fingers against his temples. That something he would rather not see: 

Kate sniffing and angling her head this way and that like an animal scenting prey. 

“You eat her and we all die, Kate.” 

To her credit, Kate managed to look somewhat contrite as she backed away. Still, her eyes, or what Cody hoped passed for eyes beneath the mask, struggled to look away but they always managed to focus on the woman. 

Cody turned back to Natalie who looked at him loftily. 

“You’re not—”

“Not a chance.”

Sometimes, Natalie was difficult.

Sometimes, Natalie was a stone wall that Cody didn’t know how to tear down.

Cody was no Gorbachev.

What he could do, though, was work with the other colleague that he was hard pressed to work with. 

“Kate,” Cody cooed. He beckoned with his fingers like he would with a fragile animal. Growing up, he didn’t have many chances to interact with pets or with live animals (unless it was to inject them with various strains of viruses), but he did know the basics. That, and well, it was easy to pick up on tricks when he had known Kate for a couple years now. 

He knelt on the ground.

For a moment, all he could hear was Natalie muttering to herself how useless Cody was, but he paid her no attention. If she wanted to get under his skin, she would have to try harder. 

Kate shuffled close to Cody, her mask mirroring the movements of her head. She canterd her head to the side while her back was somehow ramrod straight while she crouched low to the ground so that she could study him better. Sometimes, Cody had to wonder if Kate felt comfortable, but didn’t bother to ask.

Animal sounds were hard enough on her vocal cords. 

It was still harder for her to master English.

He kept his voice deliberately low and the expression on his face gentle and coaxing. 

Gentle, Cody had to remind himself. Don’t show too much teeth and don’t sound too desperate.

“Hey, Kate—” Cody paused as he took in Kate’s lithe figure crouch closer to the ground. She was readying to bolt, he realized. “—ready to help me with this little lady?” 

Despite any misgivings from when they first met, Cody knew that Kate could understand when spoken to. As she sniffed the air, she made a keening, but overall pleasant sound as she relaxed her stance.

“The Kate Whisperer has struck again.” 

“If you’re not planning on helping, then you can get lost.” Cody turned back to Kate and gestured for her to grab one side of the woman while he hooked an arm around her waist and slung one of her arms around his shoulders. Kate mirrored his actions, seemingly acting more like a human than she had in ages. 

“Aww, is the widdle sick boy complaining? You know, if you actually did manual labor instead of messing around with bacteria—”

“Viruses.”

“—maybe you wouldn’t have to be so weak and ask Kate for help.”

Cody grunted as he finally had the woman upright, Kate holding the woman’s other side. Although the woman was nothing more than dead weight, it was

now easier for Cody and Kate to transport her back to the base. Satisfied that he wouldn’t be bearing the brunt of the woman’s weight, he turned to Natalie and gestured for her to lead the way.

If she was put off by Cody’s dismissal of her insult, she didn’t show it. Instead, she hummed low in her throat before stomping towards the exit of the clearing. The trees seemed darker and more foreboding than before—a sure sign that their boss was still watching from the shadows. If Cody didn’t know any better, he would have thought that he was concerned about the newest recruit. It would make sense, she was probably an investment for the future. 

“You think she’ll fit in, Kate?” It was a lost cause to even attempt to have a flowing conversation with the woman that bordered on feral, but Cody didn’t care. The only other person who was present for conversation was Natalie and she wasn’t the most polite. Hopefully, once the woman awoke, Cody would finally have someone to talk to. Besides, he would have to spend time with her, what with her being slated for the position of a medic.

A moment passed and then—

Her voice, unused for so long, rasped through broken vocal cords and overworked muscles. If Cody hadn’t been so in tune with Kate, if her voice was any lower and quieter, perhaps he would have never caught it.

“N-no.”

Such a simple word. So short. 

And yet so meaningful at the same time.

In shock, Cody faltered before asking, “And why do you say that?”

Kate whispered something else before letting out a small keening wail.

Together, Kate and Cody dragged the woman through the trees.

Chapter Text

“You know, you could probably take over the world with some of these things.” 

I held up a petri dish filled with a clear, yellowish-white agar that had spawned colonies of some sort of bacteria. Given the notes that were scattered all over the lab and the presence of bloodied swabs, I could only assume that the victims from a few nights ago were probably infected by something. Why Cody decided to culture bacteria, I had no idea, but it was probably not a good thing that he had access to such a thing. 

Of course, the same could be said for Natalie and her penchant for any weapon—be it something that was already a weapon beforehand or something that she happened to pick up and decided to bludgeon a victim with. 

Kate… While she was animalistic at times, she seemed to be the most sane and put together at all times. Just last night, she happened to place her head on my lap and let me pet her before she pushed me away. 

Cody saw the petri dish that I was holding and immediately froze before dropping his notebook onto the floor. Without much fanfare, he stomped over towards me and held out a gloved hand. Although he was a full head taller than me, I held the petri dish away from his reach and wiggled it mischievously. 

“Come on, Cody! Lighten up!” I tapped the lid and cracked a smile when he hissed that I was going to end up destroying lab equipment and that they didn’t come cheap. “So what? You’ll either end up stealing from Jack or a lab somewhere. Get over it and lighten up, will you?”

My mentor, as loose a term that could be applied, pinched his nose and said, with the aplomb of a man who had dealt with way too much on a daily basis, “Do you want to end up getting sick? Or contaminating my hard work?” 

One of his gloved hands reached out to flick me on the nose, but I dodged. Hey, I knew I was being stupid by inciting play in the middle of a laboratory, but I wasn’t about to start letting him touch me all willy nilly. 

Seriously.

I saw him dissecting a stray cat only moments ago and I could see the faint residue of blood and guts coating the latex of his gloves. 

Gross.

“But the boss said that—”

“Ellie.” 

The warning in his voice stopped me dead in his tracks and he looked at me with something bordering on concern and deep seated annoyance. Instantly, I deflated and looked askance. Seeing someone look so disappointed in me, it felt like any mistake I made was the end of my world. It was a stupid thing to get upset about, but there was something so piercing about disappointing others, that I immediately backed down when faced with disappointment. He must have noticed that I was not doing well because he immediately softened and shrugged off his gloves. 

“Look, I know that all of this is new to you and everything the boss says is practically the Word of God come to life, but you can’t be reckless. Sure, as someone in his employ, you’re guaranteed to be more resistant to certain things like disease, but that doesn’t mean you can flaunt your abilities.” He tapped the left side of my brain. “Use your brain. I’m a medic and you’re training to be one as well. Why do you think that is?”

I pursed my lips.

“Ellie?”

“It’s because the boss isn’t a cure all.”

“Exactly.” He paused for a moment before patting me lightly on the head. It was meant to be a comforting gesture (I’m pretty sure it was; my human memories were all a jumble, and if they weren’t, they were completely gone) and I allowed my muscles to loosen and my eyes to catch his. “Now, the petri dish.”

This time, when he held out his hand, I willingly allowed the glass of the dish to be placed onto the fleshy portion of his palm. 

After sending a quick smile my way, Cody placed the petri dish back into the lab refrigerator for further preservation. Again, why he was working with bacteria, I had no clue, but I was glad that he wasn’t too miffed with me for my behavior.

Maybe I was always a people pleaser, but Cody told me that he liked whatever remnant of my personality was left with me. During the first few days here, he trained me to get rid of my stutter—a noble attempt that actually succeeded whenever I was with him or Kate. 

My stutter resurfaced whenever Natalie decided to chat with me, which was close to never, but I digress. That woman was someone you would not want to mess with in a dark alleyway. 

“Ellie, you remember anything yet?”

His tone was earnest, curious, but also a little bit apprehensive. Cody and Natalie had retained their memories after the boss had taken them in, but I hadn’t. 

The same could be said for Kate, but she didn’t communicate enough to resemble anything like that of a human, so we couldn’t be sure anyway. Regardless for the matter, I had no memories of what it was to be human.

Cody said that we were still human-like, but imbued with whatever the boss was made out of. Depending on our contracts, we were either imbued with more or less the otherness that the boss had in spades.

Aside from my name, the only thing that I could remember was the boss telling me that my contract would last at least five years. If I could survive until the end of the term, I was free to go.

I don’t know. 

It seemed kind of fair to me… Aside from the fact that I could never have my memories back, can never go back home (wherever that was), and I had to help my colleagues with murder and the like, then he was pretty cool. 

Cody didn’t think that he was cool—in fact, he seemed pretty terrified when I said that, but I didn’t have the same experiences that he had. 

Well, I didn’t have any previous interactions with the boss—well, none that I could distinctly remember other than bits and pieces of static. 

“Should I be remembering anything?” I plopped onto a stool next to a biosafety cabinet and leaned my head against the crux of my hands. A yawn escaped me, but I still caught Cody’s worry—palpable and distinct on his face. “Stop frowning so much; you’ll end up getting wrinkles by the time you’re thirty.”

“That’s if I’m still alive by then.” Muttering more to himself, Cody began taking test tubes and their required racks from a drawer and then proceeded to study the contents within the tubes. This time, instead of agar that brimmed with colonies of bacteria, I could see liquid slowing up and against the sides. 

Viruses?

Pee samples?

I might be his assistant, but I could barely make heads or tails out of his organization system sometimes. 

He didn’t have the foresight for labelling. 

With a clink, he placed the test tube rack none too gently onto the counter before studying me. His analytical gaze was more than familiar to me at this point, but the chill of apprehension still crawled up and down my back. 

Maybe I was self-conscious before this entire ordeal. maybe I didn’t like the feeling of probing eyes on me. Whatever the case, I could only hold his gaze for a good ten seconds before I turned away, my face burning and my hands suddenly going clammy. 

I could handle bloodstains, but the instant someone decided to stare at me with something akin to judgment in their gaze, I was done for. 

“Doesn’t that bother you, Ellie?” I heard his boots clunk close to me, the heavy footsteps calm and steady in juxtaposition to the thoughts racing through my head. About a foot away, he stopped and leaned against the corner in an attempt to soothe me. “The boss isn’t kind. He took you away from your old life on a whim. If I could find a way to get your memories back, I would.” 

His gaze, once probing and cold, had softened. 

It was weird. 

It had been only a few weeks since I had woken in a strange house with three strangers looking down at me. Yet, I had become so close to him—him being assigned to be my mentor notwithstanding. Something told me—a primal instinct long forgotten after a year of evolution—that I should have been wary of the strangers.

They were predators and I was far from capable of fighting back.

Lost memories.

Lack of direction. 

The only thing that I could call my own was my name, the terms of my contract, and the bits of static and shrieks from the one memory that stayed with me from my previous life. 

Cody had taken me under his wing and while he had me familiarizing with medical procedures and assisting with his experiments, he seemed genuinely concerned. He asked me about my past, about my interests. 

Nothing came to mind, and when I had admitted that (reluctantly and with much sorrow), he had brushed that melancholy aside. He was a kind soul, if a bit too obsessed with experiments and dissection, but he didn’t steer me wrong.

He was… concerned. 

Perhaps, if the predatory vibes I felt could dissipate, I would consider him a friend. 

“But what if…” My voice trailed off; I was unsure of how to put together what I wanted to say. How could I say that I was more than content with not knowing who I was? The residue of a personality that haunted the edges of my thoughts and actions—the stutters, the feelings of inadequacy, of fear… I didn’t want that. I wanted to be free from that.

I know the boss was no saint, but this… This! This was like he had dragged an eraser across the surface of a chalkboard, wiping all my memories clean. In its place was nothing more than a blank slate that I could mold my personality into whatever I wished. 

I glanced up at Cody, finding that his fingers were twitching at his sides. Although he had given me only small nuggets of information concerning his past, I knew that he was a scientist of some sort—maybe even a prodigy. He was young enough to be a university student, but he had never disclosed his age either. 

Despite it, I could tell that he wanted to take one of the many notebooks that he had littered all over his laboratory and what constituted his room and write to his heart’s content. A scientist through and through, he was willing to write down anything that piqued his interest and satisfied whatever hypothesis he had noted on the fly. 

It was endearing, but…

It also felt somewhat familiar. 

Like, I, too, had indulged in such a past time. Maybe it was just me, but there was the phantom feeling of paper folding and creasing against deft fingers, of ink smearing over the page. If I concentrated, I could smell the soothing scent of a new notebook.

Before I could contemplate further, Cody snapped his fingers.

I looked at him closely as I prepared myself for whatever he happened to demand of me. 

“You know what? I just remembered something.” He smiled wryly at me before adding, “We have another assignment later.”

“Another one?” I wrinkled my nose. The thought itself wasn’t surprising, but Codys’ reaction to my response was.

Although remnants of what I must have been like stuck to me like sticky residue that had hardened, I didn’t find the nature of our assignments too gruesome. Sure, we had to kill people, but normally, Cody acted professionally. After weeks of working with him, I noticed that he didn’t play  with his victims—not like how Natalie would stick around and mock her victims whenever I shadowed her. 

Whenever I looked too… at ease, I suppose I should say, Cody looked crestfallen. I don’t know much about his past life, or at all, but I don’t think he always wanted to be a killer for hire under a supernatural, eldritch being. 

He didn’t take joy in taking lives, but he wasn’t one to shy away from it either. 

Sometimes, he would even take a victim (alive) and bring it back to the laboratory. It was rare, but it had happened. I was surprised, of course, and wasn’t too bothered by it. 

The tears and whimpers, though… I had to leave when that happened. 

Quick killings were usually a speciality for Cody.

As for me… Technically, I didn’t have to carry out the Boss’ kills, seeing as I was taken on to be a new medic for another of the Boss’ teams, but sooner or later, I knew that I would have to step up to the plate.

Even though I didn’t mind it when my associates did it… For some odd reason, whether it was because of who I was or who I am, I couldn’t fathom ending a victim’s life. 

Natalie called me weak.

Kate did nothing but stare at me—whatever humanity that she had retained had cast only a bleak indifference towards my lack of contribution.

Cody wanted me to get stronger, but he usually kept me innocent in light of the blood that my associates had to shed. 

And, for a time, they were all I had.

There were screams.

Whenever we worked, there were always screams. Like always, I took to information gathering—the so-called easy part of the job. According to the Boss, our mark for the evening had begun dabbling in things that he shouldn’t. Like most of our marks, he bore the mental scars and wounds from trying to look further into the supernatural. However, while normal people would have been written off as delusional or highly impressionable, our marks had enough evidence for someone with higher authority to look into such supernatural phenomena.

It was the type of attention that the Boss didn’t want hanging around him. As a supernatural entity, he already had enemies, he didn’t need authorities to come sniffing around his territory—despite the fact that his realm was far removed from what we considered to be ‘reality’. 

As I began spreading gasoline all over the mark’s main office where he kept information of the supernatural (aka, the Boss in his supernatural form), I heard Cody interrogating the victim. 

That was another part of the job. 

Sometimes, the mark could lead us to other people they had dragged into their messes. Unfortunate or not, once you started looking into the Boss’ existence, you were always going to be the next in line for a meeting with Cody’s bat or Natalie’s knife. Unless, of course, the Boss found your soul desirable…

Sometimes, I wonder about that.

Who was I before I became… whatever it is that I am right now. I was told that I was their associate, but was I truly a Proxy? I had no kills as of yet and had the durability and ability of a regular human, but I was under the Boss’ protection. 

Cody had told me not to worry about it, but it still rankled my insides. 

There was something missing from me—maybe they were my memories. 

Perhaps it was my old self trying to claw to the surface—kind of like what the victim was doing right now.

“—ease! I have a wife and kids and—”

THUD.

Cody’s bat kissed the victim’s ribs, the sound of what sounded like bones cracking met my ears. I winced in sympathy, but kept myself neutral as I began emptying another container filled with gas all over the rest of the house. 

Much to my chagrin, the victim began calling out to me.

“Help me! Plea—”

CRACK.

This time, Cody smashed his bat against the side of the man’s head, effectively shutting him up. The man must have been knocked out because pretty soon, the only sound that permeated the silence was the sound of stuttering breathing and the way the gasoline splattered onto the ground as it slowly emptied.

“Anything useful?” As always, my voice came out slightly muffled.

Much to my consternation, my associates requested (in Natalie’s case, she demanded) that I covered my mouth with a plain bandana that was a stand in for a mask. Although I protested against the idea, both Cody and Natalie insisted on it. Even Kate, who I assumed was a mute, was in agreement. It hadn’t been long since the Boss had taken me in, it would only stand to reason that someone could recognize me.

The thought thrilled and saddened me to a certain extent before I chose the black bandana as part of my supposed uniform. 

Cody’s voice served no better than mine. In fact, it was worse. For him, he chose to don a gas mask and goggles. Where he happened across a gas mask, I had no idea. However, something told me that it had something to do with his past. 

The medic shook his head.

“Nothing. This guy was a homebody. No friends. No family.” 

He tossed me the mark’s phone to prove his point. No social media, not many contacts in his list. 

Poor guy.

“Did we have to kill him?” I asked as I finally emptied out the last of the gasoline. “He was already isolated from everybody and he was suffering hallucinations from the Boss if our intel was correct.”

Cody shrugged. “Look, think of it this way, we’re the clean up crew for the Boss. Clean up doesn’t mean we start getting nosy about things that could potentially get us killed.” He turned to me, the light tint of the plastic

somehow staring right through me. “Or worse. The Boss could easily come up with something worse than death.”

I shuddered at the reminder of the Boss’ otherness . 

“No questions. Got it.”

That was okay, I could still observe. 

Cody sighed before bashing the man’s head until his brains coated the floor and the nails that were haphazardly hammered into the wood of the bat. If the man wasn’t dead already, he was now. There was no going back from a good Cody styled beating. 

“Got more gasoline for the body?”

I shook my head. “Does it really matter? The body’ll burn with the rest of the house.”

Cody shrugged. “Okay. Let’s head out.”

I grabbed my bag filled with medical supplies (something that Cody had insisted I keep on my person for on the site training and because he was too lazy to carry it now that he had an assistant to do so for him) and whatever prizes that I could score from the mark. 

Hey, the guy was dead. Stealing was the least that I was going to do.

Once the both of us strode out the door, Cody took a match, struck it, and let it drop onto the trail of gasoline that I had purposefully trailed from the backyard and into the house. Instantly, a conflagration grew from a single spark and into a raging inferno. 

With the way the house was situated, it would take a while for the neighbors to wonder if there was something wrong. 

Once Cody was satisfied with the fire, we turned towards the forest that hung at the back of the house. For reasons that I couldn’t explain, whenever we entered or exited the forest, it felt like there was something… holding me close. Like a tether.

Or a leash.

Cody had explained that it was the Boss’ hold over all of us as his desired subjects. Proxies were able to feel it strongly, but for me—not Proxy, but not exactly human either—it felt like a light feathery sensation. 

It was a threat either way. 

I couldn’t just leave. That was going against the contract that I had agreed to. At least, that’s what Cody had explained to me. 

You would think that I would remember making a deal with the Boss, but I don't’ remember anything before waking up to Natalie scowling at me and Cody bounding to my side with a glass of water. 

But again, no questions.

Only observations.

Regardless of whatever misgivings that I had with the boss, the forest welcomed us back, the leash becoming slack once we entered. 

We walked.

And we walked.

And we walked.

Sometimes, the distance was only a few steps in. Other times, Cody and I would walk for half an hour before coming across our base. 

This time, we were walking for about ten minutes before we caught sight of the house that was deemed our main headquarters—at least for the team that I was assigned to. As we stepped past the trees and well within distance of the house to make out small details (like how Kate managed to plant flowers in haphazard order), we also noticed something crucial.

Really, it was Cody who saw it first. Despite my wearing glasses, I could still be somewhat blind whenever I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings.

“Something’s wrong.”

I turned to him, ready to run or to provide back up.

“What do you—”

He pointed at the house and I inwardly scolded myself for not realizing it earlier.

The door was open and swung freely as the wind rushed in and out of the house.

As one, both Cody and I stepped slowly onto the premises.

Chapter Text

Voices, unknown and strange, murmured almost inaudibly as Cody and I made our way up the steps. While I remained alert and apprehensive, once we could make out some of the words, Cody’s posture went from ramrod straight to his usual slouched posture. Even when he was at his most relaxed, there was still the hint of the killer that lay beneath the surface. 

As was his custom, he removed his mask while I did the same. 

“Friends?” I asked him quietly as we made our way into the kitchen where the voices were coming from. 

Cody hummed a little before he turned to me; something in his eyes telling me to look away or end up hearing something that I didn’t like. 

“You could say that. Although…”

He paused a few feet away from the opening that led to the kitchen area. Although it had been… how long had it been since I first woke up and learned to embrace what was supposedly my newest chapter of my life? Regardless, I had spent enough time with Cody to know that he was thinking hard about something. I might even go as far as to say that he was debating the pros or cons of something.

Something that I knew must have something to do with me. 

I didn’t like that.

Without thinking of the consequences, I grabbed the sleeve of his right arm, tugging him back so that he still remained away from the kitchen. 

“What? What’s going on?” 

Anxiety coiled deep within the pit of my stomach. It was laughable. I could handle seeing blood from the victims. Their screams. I was so desensitized at this point, but to know that there was something off about this situation—to know that I was out of the loop again… I didn’t like not knowing about something.

I didn’t know my past.

I didn’t know anything about my colleagues’ pasts.

I didn’t know who the Boss was or why he kept sending us out on seemingly random assignments.

Did… did I know anything at all?

Just as suddenly as the anxiety pulled at my gut did it disappear when Cody patted my gently on the shoulder, his kind brown eyes looking down at me with what I assumed to be sympathy.

“I think—:

“Jesus Christ, the both of you are terrible at stealth and espionage.” 

I felt the tips of my ears heat up as a shiver crawled down my back. Geeze, it was Natalie. By the sound of her low pitched voice and the scratching anger that accompanied it, I had a feeling that Cody and I were either interrupting or late to some sort of meeting. Neither of the two options sounded good, but you know what could be worse than the two combined?

It was standing outside the kitchen like lazy interlopers. 

As a unit, Cody and I walked into the kitchen area. 

The kitchen itself wasn’t all that much—it was standard and fairly livable. 

Refrigerator standing guard in one cozy, secluded corner.

Cabinets filled with an assortment of pots, pans, and non-perishables stood tall among the cracked walls. 

And the main feature: an island that separated the main kitchen from the table.

This is where my colleagues and three figures sat. 

Natalie looked like she was about to fling her knife at Cody while Kate sat on the edge of one chair, her limbs flexing and unclenching rapidly. 

Kate looked like she was going to bolt at any sudden movement. 

Alarmed by their actions, I turned to look at the three foreign figures. 

They were a mishmash of characters, I could grant them that. One of them, perhaps the leader, had a tan hoodie with a balaclava on his face. What was most surprising about the balaclava was that the mask had a painted frown upon the cloth. Intrigued, I tried to scrutinize further but found myself shying away when I felt the curious sensation of getting stared at in return.

It was one thing to be stared down by a fellow human being—quite another to see a void of darkness masquerading as a smile.

My eyes turned to the next figure who wore a jacket that had the same color as the first figure’s hoodie. However, instead of a balaclava, this figure had a porcelain white mask that had feminine features. Were these features supposed to make it more… unique? Frightening? 

Somewhat confused but all the more wary, I glanced at the third figure.

And just as suddenly as my eyes landed on him, did my heart stutter in its usual melodic rhythm and my throat to suddenly catch.

Something… wasn’t right.

For some odd reason, I… I don’t know how to explain it, but there was something in this figure’s eyes that made me want to… I’m not sure why, but I had this sudden urge to come close to that figure, one with the dark navy hoodie, a pair of goggles obscuring his eyes—eyes that I somehow knew were dark pools of molten brown—and a bandage covering up the left side of his mouth. 

I wanted to get close to him, wanted to hold him close to me.

Why… Why was I feeling this all of a sudden?

I… I clutched the side of my head as I tried to think hard on this strange figure that the me I was now had never seen before, but… Did I know him before I became contracted to the Boss? The more I thought about it, the more

I realized that there was something nagging me at the back of my consciousness. 

This person.

I knew him.

A gloved hand grasped me by the shoulder. I was so lost in my thoughts, I nearly jumped at the gentle touch, but quickly righted myself. Although it had been a while since I had been introduced to the basic training that Cody had drilled into me from the very beginning, I managed to right my stance and maintain a neutral expression. Although I wore a mask to obscure the lower half of my face to obscure my identity, it only took a few seconds of scrutiny to read the micro-expressions in a person’s eyes. 

I may not know these people (...and yet that strange figure with the navy jacket called to me), but I knew that there was a chance that they could take advantage of weakness—be it from me or anyone else. 

One of the figures straightened his seat and motioned us—me—forward. Uncertain, I thought about looking back towards Cody, but dismissed that thought immediately.

Right. Looking back would signify a close bond between Cody and I. 

Another weakness.

So, instead, I faced forward and allowed this figure to dictate where I stood. 

That’s how I found myself standing directly in front of him, his legs crossed and his hands folded gently in his lap. Even seated, the figure with the tan hoodie and the balaclava was imposing. Heck, he looked about to be taller than me while sitting—how much taller would this person be when they finally stood up? 

The thought crossed my mind as I held my breath and looked deep into the red eyes of the painted balaclava. Still, while I was apprehensive, I knew that there were rules in a situation such as this. Unspoken, yes, but there were rules.

After all, it would be rude to kill someone on the very first meeting.

“Are you aware that there’s a new assignment for you?”

I kept my face expressionless. My contract was only for a limited amount of time, at least compared to the rest of the fully fledged Proxies. However, that didn’t mean that I was getting discharged early. In fact, given the way that everyone was on edge and how Cody kept sending furtive glances in my direction, I could tell that my assignment was only just beginning.

Cody did tell me that he was training me to be a doctor of sorts—a field medic.

And if this conversation was going to be an indication of my future assignment, I would have to assume that—

“I’ll be part of your team, correct?” I prided myself that my voice was steady, if a bit soft. It wasn’t often that I stuttered nowadays, but the habit happened to pick up around confrontations and whenever I was feeling distressed. 

The figure in the tan jacket and white mask spoke up. “You’re either good at guessing or you catch on quick.” 

The figure canted his head to the side, allowing me a glimpse of dark brown eyes behind the mask. I would say that they looked almost kind, but yet again, appearances could be misleading.

I may look like I was cool and collected, but I wanted nothing more than to go back outside and hide in a tree. 

Finally, the third of the group spoke. Unlike the other two, which I belatedly realized spoke with an accent—Southern?—this figure didn’t sound like he had one. Furthermore, he sounded young, but appeared taller than his coworkers. 

“I’d say she catches on quick.” The figure cracked his neck and whistled low under his teeth. “Then again, to end up here—” Was it just me, or did his eyes flicker to me purposefully? “—you kind of have to be.”

“Stupidity can land you in this position as well, Rogers.” That was the man in the tan jacket. 

“Fair enough.”

“Great. You like her already.” Natalie, who had been studying the interactions in the group, began to grouse aloud. She kicked her feet onto the table and leaned back in the chair with a look of suppressed aggravation. “Do us all a favor and get rid of her, ‘kay? It’s bad enough that the Boss had to come here himself to inform us of the transfer, but you’re not staying here any longer than you have to.”

The Boss came here? 

Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Before I could ponder the matter further, I saw Cody nod in agreement. 

“It’s true. If we have nothing more to discuss, then your new medic can easily pack and meet you back in the entrance in half an hour.”

My mouth opened in protest. A new assignment? A new group that I had to work with? Things were going way too fast! I was prepared but—

Cody’s hand on my shoulder grounded me back to reality before he nudged me in the direction of the basement door. I thought about fighting, of trying to argue that all of this was so new to me, but I felt Cody’s hand squeeze my shoulder.

… and, in the corner of my eye, I saw the man in the navy jacket give me a once over.

He was observing me—more than likely trying to ascertain if I was as weak as I looked. 

Not wanting to give anyone anymore ammunition concerning my fragility and newness, I decided to follow Cody’s unspoken orders to go into the basement.

Or, as he would often like to call it, his laboratory.

As soon as we were tromping down the stairs, I couldn’t help but hiss, “Who are they? And why so soon?”

Time worked differently under the Boss. For all I knew, I could have been here for a century, but only a day would pass in the human realm. 

Fun fact: I thought the contract would take into account the time spent in the Boss’ realm, but it actually applied to human standards of time. Not only would the Boss have our service for far longer than most could stand it, he would enjoy more of the primacy of our youth—which is why he didn’t go around finding more Proxies or underlings even though we were expendable. 

Still, even with the warping of time among realms, I was still under the impression that I had trained for only a couple months—maybe even for half a year if I was feeling generous. Didn’t I need more time than that?

Cody began hauling a backpack from somewhere and thrust the item at me. 

“Colleagues. Other Proxies. Here—” Cody also took hold of another bag, a medical utility bag that looked like he had stolen it from a hospital—maybe he had taken it from an unlucky mark who happened to be a doctor. “—I doubt those guys would take it kindly if you overstayed your welcome here.”

“So that’s that then, huh?” Noticing that he was chucking several of my things into his proffered backpack, I took hold of his shoulder. Since I was short, I had to fight to keep my hand grasping his hoodie, but I managed. “Hey, you can at least spare me a minute to explain.”

Cody froze and he swore in Spanish under his breath. I couldn’t catch all of it, but I had the feeling that he was cussing me out and my curiosity. 

“Look. Those guys don’t exactly have a medic, which is kind of suspicious considering that those guys actually handle dangerous assignments.”

I frowned. “I thought our assignments were dangerous?”

“A different kind of dangerous,” Cody emphasized. “Our assignments deal with people who have information concerning the boss or we’re used for stealth and reconnaissance missions. Those guys…” Cody shuddered a little. “Let’s just say that I wouldn’t be surprised if you had to handle a lot more blood than minor nicks or scrapes than you’re used to seeing around here.”

Fine then. If he wanted to be as vague as possible, then I should change direction.

“At the very least… Can you tell me why you weren’t chosen to be their medic? If it’s so dangerous and the missions here aren’t, then why? Heck, you’re more experienced than me. Shouldn’t I stay behind while you leave?”

He quirked a brow before releasing a gentle laugh. 

“I keep Natalie and Kate in their place—I simply have better chemistry and experience dealing with those two. As for the others… They had an underground doctor by the name of Jack, but he’s…” Cody made a gesture that I could only assume meant ‘crazy’.

“Um…”

“He’s a cannibal and a demon.” He chewed on the inside of his mouth. “Part demon, but that’s beside the point.”

“So… those guys wanted a new medic because Jack’s a cannibal.” Seriously, was that it? 

Cody muttered even more Spanish complaints under his breath.

“Not exactly. Jack’s a neutral party so he can’t play favorites among the other denizens of this world.” He barked out a single note of laughter. “Politics always manage to ruin everything. I actually liked having you around.”

“Aww,” I cooed as I began folding and packing whatever clothing I had into the backpack. “So you do care!”

“I care as much as Kate and Natalie.”

I hummed, “Those two as well? I can understand Kate, but Natalie?”

“She’s hard to get along with, but don’t worry about it. She’ll be crying over our loss in her pillow tonight.”

“Ha.”

After I shoved my neat, orderly clothes into the backpack, I also began putting in things that I thought would make me happy. Little mementoes here and there like a stolen manuscript of what could have been a novel from a victim, a mason jar that I found in the woods next to the house, and several notebooks that, again, were taken from the victims’ homes. 

As I slung the bag onto my shoulders, I noted the heavy weight and wondered if I should leave something behind. I asked Cody, but he tugged at my wrist and started leading me up the stairs. I noticed him carrying the black medical utility bag—it even had a red cross on the side to denote it as such! Before we opened up the basement door, he paused, hesitation and fear darkening his features in the dimming light.

Cody leaned in close and breathed in my ear the last of his advice. 

“Those guys… they’re full fledged Proxies. Stay on their good side and make sure to do your job. We’re lenient here, but I can’t say the same of them.”

I smiled, unsure, but nodded anyway.

“Got it. No backtalk or asking too many questions. Can I go, Father Cody?”

His lips quirked a little at my quip, a sense of resolve and sadness growing in his eyes. Despite his analytical nature, I always found it interesting that his eyes were practically open mirrors into what he was feeling. 

To leave him now… I was definitely going to miss him.

“One last thing.” 

I looked up at him, somewhat confused when he immediately backtracked a step on the stairs so that we were immediately in each other’s personal space. Before I could question his intentions, he immediately bent down—

—lips against skin: a light caress as our partnership was coming to an abrupt, but necessary end. 

“I thought you didn’t like spreading germs.” I mumbled, just a little bit frazzled when he planted an affectionate kiss on my head, which was followed briefly after with a hug. “Seems a bit much if you ask me.”

“Considering that it’s rare for different groups of Proxies to interact unless there’s an emergency, I feel like I’m justified.” He cleared his throat, and if I looked closely at him, I could see a faint darkening upon his already olive skin. “Got everything you need?”

I pretended to ponder a second before taking one of his hands in mine. 

“Now I’m ready.”

“Ha, talk about cheesy.”

Together, we walked out and surveyed the kitchen area. Only Kate was still present, but after questioning her, she merely pointed out towards the front of the house. Huh, maybe the other Proxies were in a hurry if I was to meet them outside. 

Before I opened the door and into what I considered the next chapter of my life, Cody handed me the medical utility bag. I squeezed his hand one last time and let go.

I didn’t see the look on his face as he looked at the paper crane that I had given him—the paper blue and slightly crumpled. 

With my heart thudding in my chest I descended down the porch stairs and faced Natalie who looked at me with a blank expression.

“Got everything?” Her voice was gruff, her eyes guarded. “Once you leave, you can’t exactly come back for tea. There are—”

“Rules and regulations and all that non-supernatural stuff.” 

“Hmm, your stutter is gone,” she muttered. She looked… confused. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that she looked sort of proud of me. “An improvement.”

I shrugged. “I’ll probably be stuttering up a storm since I’ve never seen those guys before. Strangers and all that.” 

In an act that I knew was probably costing her whole ‘ice cold princess’ personality she was always using, she ruffled my hair and then shoved me back so that she could ascend to the porch. 

“Get lost, loser.”

I saluted her and then faced the three figures.

Time to fulfill this new assignment. 

Chapter Text

I don’t know who I was in my past life. Maybe I was quiet. Maybe I was daring. Reckless. Wild without any abandon. Or maybe I was a nobody in a world of differing shades of grey. Regardless of who I was, I knew that I would never meet my past self again.

It was hard to understand that concept. For me, it had taken me a while to get used to the utter blanks of my past, of the way I would say or do something and wonder—

Would I have done this before the contract with the Boss?

How much were the thoughts of my new self? 

How much had I lost of my original personality?

Something told me that I wasn’t always this desensitized to the violence and the brutality of the supernatural, but I was. The training had all but left me bereft of any shamelessness when it came to the Boss’ violent and cruel assignments. 

As I stood in front of the three full fledged Proxies, I wondered again. I was nervous, anxious even, but I was trained not to show it—courtesy of Natalie. After a moment of appraising each other, one of the figures (the one with the painted balaclava) stepped forward. 

“Thomas. Brian Thomas.” He held out a gloved hand, too which I obliged him.

“Ellie Razon.”

I can only imagine his brow quirking up (if he had a face underneath the mask) in question. “Is that your full name?”

I shook my head. “If I remember correctly, it’s short for Magdalena.”

He nodded, lost in thought as he stepped back and allowed his subordinates to take his place.

The man in the tan jacket adjusted his mask so that it hung at the side of his head instead of covering his face. He had sideburns and the makings of a fine beard; his eyes were warm and kind. His hand, I noticed, was covered in scars and calluses—possible evidence of the ‘dangerous’ missions that Cody had talked about.

“Tim Wright.” He paused and asked, “You’re the new medic, right?”

“Ellie Razon and yes.” I let go of his hand and pointed at the medical bag at my side. “A mini hospital is right here.”

He hummed a little under his breath before stepping aside.

If I felt only a slight feeling of apprehension before, I now felt like my heart was palpitating in my throat. Again, that feeling of something—perhaps nostalgia—prickled at the edges of my conscience. It was the same sort of feeling that I had whenever I tried to think about my past. Were the feelings related? 

Or was I making assumptions?

Correlation does not imply causation…

To my horror, I found myself shocked out of my reverie when the third man that made up their trio stepped forward, the last dregs of his introduction finally making their way into my ears. I had caught onto his name, a simple and concise, “Toby Rogers” before he thrust out a gloved hand. 

As we shook, I noticed his gloved hands, how they seemed to tremble and shake, clenching and unclenching without much thought. Further scrutiny provided me with other subtle reactions. Like the low, raspy whistle of an unknown tune and how he rolled his shoulders or cracked his neck at seemingly odd intervals. Knowing that it would be rude to point that out, I remained silent and waited for their next order. 

Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long. 

As soon as the introductions were over, the one you considered to be the leader of this group, Brian Thomas, began trekking through the forest. 

His strides were long and purposeful—true traits of a person who has long since been considered to be a leader of the group. Once he started walking, the other man in a similarly colored jacket walked side by side with Brian. Tim, if I remembered correctly. After a few seconds of watching, I, too, began the trek. I didn’t notice it, but Toby Rogers began following me.

Was this their plan from the get go? 

Were they worried that I would run? I didn’t see any weapons on any of the Proxies, but that proved nothing. Under the Boss’ command, Proxies were supposed to be adept at some sort of combat prowess. I was exempt, I was just a poor medic. Cody managed to become a Proxy with medical duties—I don’t know how, and it appears that I would never know. 

Anyway, I didn’t have much energy in myself to ponder the situation further. 

Two strangers in front and one at my back. 

It would be the perfect time for one of them to attack me if they so choose. 

It was at that moment when I was imagining a gruesome death involving me that I felt a presence brush past my side. Much to my surprise, I didn’t scream out in fear, but rather let out a small yelp. Not one of my proudest moments, but I could easily explain myself away by saying that I was understandably on edge. 

Who wouldn’t be?

I heard Toby whistle a little before letting out a small chuckle. I looked up at him and I saw that he was staring ahead at the rest of the group, but I bet underneath his mask that covered the lower half of his face, he was smiling. His eyes were crinkling at the edges and his eyes… they seemed to glimmer with mischief. 

“We’re not going to kill you. The Boss’ll have all our heads.”

A stab of panic rushed through me, but I refused to let such weakness show. Instead, I shrugged my shoulders and gestured towards the duo dressed in tan.

“I don’t know anyone here.” I bit my lip and found myself stuttering to a halt, lost in thought. “In fact, I don’t know a lot either.”

“Huh.” He made that sort of sound a person would make as if they were contemplating something grave. Curious now, I looked up… and found that his eyes, dark and foreboding, were staring deep into my own. “And here I thought you were playing it safe.”

“P-playing it safe?” What was he getting at? That was such a weird thing to say, but… “I’m not going to run away when all your backs are turned. I’m not that suicidal.”

As I looked up at him again, I realized that he was leaning down towards me, as if I had spoken so softly, he needed to be closer to me so that he could hear. Yet, that wasn’t the only thing that caught my attention. No, instead, it seemed as if he were expecting me to say something.

His deep brown eyes were almost similar to Cody’s, but at the same time, not at all. While Cody’s brown eyes were flecked with amber and gold, Toby’s  were as deep and warm as freshly overturned dirt that was healthy for planting. I felt… I felt like I could trust him. Yet, I felt apprehensive because his eyes roamed over my face, as if he was trying to memorize my features. Or, perhaps he was trying to see something that I had, but couldn’t give.

“Boss erased your memory, huh?”

“Did he do the same to you?”

He didn’t answer me. Abruptly, he faced forward once again and trotted after his peers. The last thing I could manage to hear was something like this: “Geeze, the Boss has a sick sense of humor.” He muttered something more, something to do with my name, but… 

Nothing. I couldn’t hear anything. 

All I heard was—

No. My blood ran cold and I turned around.

Bad move. 

The second I turned, the static in my head became a piercing siren sound as I fell to my knees, my hands clutching at the sides of my head. Of course, that did nothing to aid me. 

How could anything I do stand up against an eldritch abomination that fed off the fear and despair of his victims? 

I kept close to the ground as the world around me like the trees, leaves, dirt and whatever else became colored in muted shades of black, white, and grey. It seemed like everything was going in slow motion, as if the Boss had a say in what happened in his realm. 

Except, yeah, he definitely did.

“W-what… do you want?” I gritted out. 

Almost immediately as I said that, I slapped a hand over my mouth. Fear took hold as I trembled. 

Should I have been more respectful? Before I could ponder the matter further I noticed that the static in my head lessened until it was a dull white noise that barely shadowed my racing thoughts. 

Slowly, as if someone were adjusting the lens on a microscope, the static in my head began to clear and form some sort of language that I could never replicate, but somehow understood. 

If I concentrated hard enough, I could hear, in the midst of the static—

A question. 

“I’m…” I breathed a little deeply and then tried speaking again. “I’m not planning on running away. I’m just… I’m still getting used to this situation!” Heck, I’ve been with the full fledged Proxies for a handful of minutes! And besides, even if I did have the gall to run away, where would I go? Plus, those three had more muscle to go around and I bet they were fast enough to overtake me. 

The static roared in my head, causing me to drop to my knees and clutch at the sides of my head. It was no use, of course. The supernatural entity that is my Boss would not let any of his precious subjects get away that easily. However, just as suddenly as the roar had occurred, I began to notice that it ebbed slowly into a comforting haze of blank static and then—

Blackness.

When I awoke, I found myself carried above the shoulder of one of my new colleagues. I managed to look down at the hoodie to realize that it must have been Toby. I let out a small sigh, a little embarrassed that he had to pick me up after—

What happened?

All I could remember was static, pain. 

Was that the Boss?

Toby must have heard me sigh because he spoke. 

“First time?”

“Fainting?” I stifled a yawn and relaxed a little more over his shoulder. I didn’t want to say no to a free ride, after all. “I’m pretty sure I’ve fainted before.”

Toby let out a small chuckle, the vibrations of his mirth gently jostling my body. 

“I mean, is this your first time speaking with the Boss? He’s not the kindest supernatural being, but he plays fair.”

“Huh. I assume I must have talked to him while I made the contract, but I can’t remember.”

If it weren’t for my observant nature, I would have missed Toby stuttering a little in his footsteps before regaining his footing. It was so subtle, but I could feel it.

Something was surprising about this and I’m not sure why.

Before I could speak, Toby continued. 

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember much either. All I remember is—”

He stopped, hesitant. 

Back when I was still assisting Cody, the topic of our pasts was something that I found was always present, even if some people tried brushing the issue to the side. Often, it was Cody asking about my past, but he never got around to talking about it. Once upon a time, he had promised to come clean about his childhood, but I suppose it’s far too late now.  

I tried asking the others if they remembered, but Natalie warned me to stop. So what if I couldn’t remember mine? It didn’t matter to her and what she had gone through before becoming contracted to the Boss shouldn’t matter to me either. Unsurprisingly, I didn’t question her again—especially after she nearly took out one of my eyes with a balisong . 

Despite what she said, however, their pasts did matter to me.

Because I could see it as plain as day if I paid attention.

Sometimes, I saw Natalie draw in stolen sketchbooks and scraps of printer paper from her victims. 

Sometimes, I would catch Kate holding a flashlight to her chest, as if it were her child.

And Cody… sometimes if I moved too fast, he would automatically situate himself so that he was in a defensive position. That look in his eyes…

Really, I knew that there was a reason why they didn’t talk about it. I had nothing else to give them except for my support and my respect. 

Now that I was with a new group, it appeared that I would never know their whole story. 

It was kind of sad. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” I murmured. At that, Toby finally stopped and set me gently at the ground. At such a close proximity, I had really underestimated his height. It was one thing to be carried and see the world as he saw it. It was another thing to be standing at your tallest (I was barely hitting five feet) and then see him peering down on you. “I don’t remember much of anything since the day I woke up to Natalie’s face.”

The contemplative look in his eyes disappeared, only to be replaced with glimmers of mischief. 

“Ah, how was she? She and I used to date.”

That was some news. If I ever had the chance to interact with my old group, I might ask her about this development.

“Before? Or…” I let my voice trail off, still unsure as to how to approach this subject. Would he react like Natalie? Or would he tell me anything about his past. “Y-you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to!” I tried to reassure him, but it looked like he was ready to laugh at me.

Well, his eyes were telling me that.

However, there was something else in his eyes. It looked… pained? Sorrowful?

“To be honest, I don’t remember much about my past life. Just a few snippets here and there.” He began walking after the rest of the group, making me aware that the other two men were talking amongst themselves, shooting glances behind them ever so often. “So I guess we’re in the same boat for that one.”

“And the others?” 

Toby shrugged. 

“Not my story to tell, but I would not be surprised if they turned out to be r egular guys underneath their manly masks. ” His voice rose at the very end so that his voice could carry. One of the Proxies up front—Brian? Tim? I think it’s Tim—flipped the bird at Toby.   

He laughed and I found myself laughing a little as well. His laughter felt so carefree and wonderful in the midst of the dark woods of our Boss’ domain. For once there was nothing more that I wanted to do than let go and have more fun with him. 

For some odd reason, there was just this easiness that I couldn’t associate with anyone else that I had met. Granted, I wasn’t allowed the luxury of meeting new people—aside from our assignments, of course—but there was only so much talking to do when Kate was mostly feral and kept to herself, Natalie was her own brand of crazy, and Cody… It took awhile for me to crack Cody and become somewhat more than a lab assistant for him.

With Toby… I felt like I knew him.

It made me want to ask him that, for fun you know? Yet—

“You might want to keep your eyes peeled for this.”

I glanced up and found that the object of my thoughts was looking down at me. Casual mischief once again was evident in his eyes. I, too, smiled up at him, happy to know that maybe this new assignment wouldn’t be as daunting as I thought it would be. I mean, I wasn’t stuttering as much as I thought I would—a major improvement I dare say. 

“Might I ask why?”

Toby abruptly stopped and I almost tripped over my feet because of his abruptness. I scowled, eager to make sure he realized that it was rude and uncalled for, but he took me by the wrist and placed me in front of him. 

“What are you—”

“Eyes peeled, Origami Girl.”

Perhaps it was a natural reaction, something left over and dormant from evolution. 

Perhaps it was because I was surrounded by two girls and a guy who wasn’t interested in romantic dalliances for the past few… how many months or years that I had been with my previous group.

Whatever the case, heat began to pool in my face, butterflies starting to break free from my stomach. I was assaulted with all of these stupid… things. I wanted to edge forward, away from his warmth (why was he so warm? fever?), but he held me fast by the shoulders. If it were not for the meager protection granted to me by the boss, I would have more than likely been afraid that he would have shanked me from behind.

Then again, with how cozy I was getting with Toby, I don’t think I would have run.

How embarrassing.

“Take it slow, Ellie—” I couldn’t help but swallow at his low voice, how his hands tightened on my shoulders. Not to hurt, no, but to comfort. “—your first time should be slow and awe inspiring.”

F-first time?

Ahh, is he playing with me or—

Suddenly, he let go and I whirled around, trying to give him a piece of my mind, but before I uttered a single word, he let out large bouts of guffaws. His boisterous laughter was so loud, the men in front looked back at us with what I assumed to be fond exasperation.

“Are you trying to get us killed?” I think it was the man with the white mask, but I wasn’t too sure yet. “Just because the Boss protects us doesn’t mean we should—”

“Yadda, yadda whatever, Wright.” Toby waved off the man’s complaints before he turned to me again, his voice low when he spoke. “You look so innocent, I didn’t think you would have such dirty, impure thoughts.”

I knew that he was baiting me, but I couldn’t help the angered flush that spread from the apples of my cheeks to the tips of my ears. He absolutely knew the effect of his words and how he said them, how it could be easily misconstrued. 

He was—

He was—

Was he pranking me?

The little—

A tap upon my nose stopped me from thinking further.

“Come on, Origami Girl,” he said, as he traipsed past me. “Best hurry before something else decides to eat us.”

“Sure,” I muttered, but then I stopped. “Hey, why are you calling me that? Origami Girl?”

He paused in front of me. Perhaps it was due to the low lighting, but I thought I could see his shoulders tense and his hands clench at his sides. It seemed like an odd reaction, but I pressed on.

“Not that I don’t mind nicknames, but—”

“The crane.”

“Cra—?” Oh, he must have seen it when you passed it off to Natalie. But how? Was he just that observant? “Oh, um, it’s a hobby and I thought it would be nice to leave something of me for them.”

Toby looked back at me, his eyes unreadable. 

“Yeah. That sounds… so you, actually.”

Before I could question him about that (what did he mean by so you?), he turned and started walking after the others. 

If I had a choice, if I didn’t fear for my life, it would have been the perfect opportunity to escape.

Fun fact: I did not.

Instead, I jogged after them, my thoughts all askew and my bags weighing me down. 

Chapter Text

The house was almost the same, yet completely different from the last time I was at a base for Proxies. For one, the house was significantly bigger than the other one. While the other house could be classified as a bungalow that housed a basement, this one looked like a proper two story home. I was no expert on architecture, but I could tell that this place was rather plain, as if trying to escape notice from prying eyes. 

Given the Boss’ track records with humans and supernatural folk, I wouldn’t be none the wiser if he somehow made it so that it was just naturally bland and boring to keep foes from attacking his chosen ones.

Once we were within a dozen feet from the front of the house, one of the men up front, the one in the tan hoodie, paused and inclined his head towards me. The other two, Wright and Toby, continued to ascend up the porch steps and inside the house. I thought about running after Toby since he seemed a lot nicer and closer in age to me (how old was I again? And did aging work here? Or was that in the human world?), but I dutifully stopped in front of what I assumed to be my boss here under his care. 

The man in the tan hoodie appraised me for a good few minutes while my arms strained from carrying my belongings. It hadn’t occurred to me to ask them to help and I don’t think that it occurred to them to ask if I needed the assistance. No matter, Proxies were made of tougher things than the average human and for the most part, while I wasn’t exactly a Proxy, I was definitely on my way to becoming one since I had a feeling that I was losing my humanity. 

Finally, after a long moment of waiting, the man in the tan hoodie took off the cloth covering his face. What I saw didn’t surprise me, but it had me looking at him in curiosity. He was a caucasian man with sun kissed skin, his eyes a lovely shade of amber set in a face that was angular and covered with fairly trim facial hair. There were wrinkles around the creases of his eyes—crow’s feet that were born from genuine smiles and laughter. 

Hmm… I didn’t know what I was expecting, but I had a feeling that this man that stood in front of me was definitely someone who was kind. In a world where a supernatural being called for your assistance in carrying out his misdeeds, kindness was rare. Even Cody, nice as he was, I could tell that his kindness was out of necessity. He had a duty to fulfill: to teach me to become a medic for my previous group until another group needed my assistance. He played his part kindly and I repaid him in progress.

That kind of kindness was reciprocal. Pragmatic. 

Did I miss it? It was too soon to say, but I had a feeling that this man would surely see fit to treat me kindly.

Well, I hope so. Appearances were everything but the truth. 

“Ellie, the new medic.” It wasn’t a question, more like an assessment, but I nodded anyway. He canted his head to the side before he thrust out his hand and began to take my medical bag away from me. A little stunned, I didn’t stop him, but stared at him in shock. He must have seen my reaction before I could tamp it down, but he allowed himself a small smile and a chuckle. “A lady such as yourself shouldn’t have to carry such heavy things by yourself.”

Belatedly, I realized that he had an accent. What was it? It sounded like a smooth drawl, probably reminiscent of someone from the south… I could ponder that later, right now he was trying to act like a gentleman after I had spent what seemed like hours hauling it around!

“B-but you—”

He held up a hand and just like that, I fell back into subservient silence.

“I’m not sure how new you are to this, but the Boss was surveying your every move that you made.” He lowered his voice. “That we all made. Think of your not running away or complaining about your load as part of a test. If we showed you too much kindness or if you had run, the consequences would have been…” He thought for a second before looking at me with what I assumed to be concern and fear. “Well, less than ideal if you catch my drift.”

He laughed and without meaning to, I also let loose a small, but shy chuckle. A smile warmed his features and for once, I was stunned into silence not out of fear, but in awe. He had such a wide grin that stretched his lips taut, but there were dimples at both sides of his cheeks and—!

If I could, I would have patted my cheeks down to make sure that scorching fire hadn’t accidentally licked my face, but I didn’t want to draw attention to that aspect of myself. Despite my attempts to ignore the heat upon my skin, the man in front of me must have sensed it because he looked like the cat that got the cream. What was worse was that he flicked my gently on the nose and began heading inside.

“Anyway, it was nice to officially meet you, Ellie.” He opened the door into the wide expanse of a dim foyer and other spaces unknown. “I have a feeling that you forgot my name—” That was true, but I wasn’t going to let him know that. “—but you can call me Brian.”

Brian. A nice, unassuming name. It fit him like a glove and I found myself nodding in affirmation.

“Pleasure to meet you, Brian.”

The house tour was nothing special. Kind of like my last home, there wasn’t much evidence that the place I lived in happened to house murderers, serial killers, and doctors that liked to experiment with humans and viruses. No, instead, all I got was a fairly neat home—all due to Tim’s need to keep them orderly or else… is the explanation that Brian had given me. Kitchen was fairly stocked, the dining room was nothing grand, and the basement was filled with old gear, the washing and drying machines, and the living room (or what passed for a living room) housed an old piano that nobody played with a few couches that looked like they had seen better days. 

As Brian led me around, I noticed that the house, while well lived in, felt like there was a sense of mustiness throughout the house. It was as if the Proxies only came to the house to rest and that was it. It was lived in, but it wasn’t

lived in . I don’t know, it just felt sort of off in a melancholic, nostalgic kind of way. Weren’t houses like this supposed to be full of life and laughter? 

Then again, it was filled with murderers, just like my previous association. However, a person would know just walking into my old house that Natalie was the artsy type, the one to fly off the hinge when it came to poor decor choices and if someone happened to track mud into the house (that was Kate… usually). 

When you stepped into the house, you would know that Cody lived there because of the smell of his cooking and baking (both credited scientific endeavors, he would try to defend against Natalie’s teasing), and the fact that he would hum old lullabies in Spanish. I still didn’t know what the words meant, but again, there was a sense of melancholy. Now, more than ever, I wished I pushed harder to know his backstory.

As for Kate… You could look into the house and see grooves on the surface of her constant roaming around… Like a wild animal trying to escape, but she never could. Her past demons haunted her in ways that I could only postulate and guess. There was something human within her still, but I never got close enough to ask or investigate.

Here… it seemed lifeless. Or, perhaps I was looking into things a little too early. After all, I had only just met them and had only had a taste of the three’s personalities. It wouldn’t do any harm to myself if I created an opinion later. 

After getting to know the first floor layout and the basement, we finally went upstairs. There were five bedrooms (seriously, it was a big house) and I got to pick which of the last two I wanted to be my new home. I chose the larger one and the last one I debated with Brian about the logistics of making that one the infirmary where I would work or if I would be exiled to the basement. After a long talk (with some input from the rest of the residents), we all agreed that it would be better if we were to make the basement the place where I could attend to patients or what have you. 

After that whole mess, Brian and I dumped my stuff onto the floor of my new room. 

It was just like any other bedroom. I had a window, a bed that looked like it had seen better days, a closet, a desk, and a couch that happened to sit below the window. When I asked about the couch, Brain shrugged. All of these things were already there when they had first claimed the house and they hadn’t thought about getting rid of it. 

“Don’t worry,” Brian laughed a little. He must have seen the horrified look on my face. “We aired out the room, did a little laundry, dusted everything, and swept the floors. The rest of the upkeep will be up to you for this room, but we always rotate jobs when it comes to everything else.” Brian’s eyes became contemplative for a second before asking, “Do you like Italian? I’m thinking of making something fancy since you’re here and all.”

I thought about it for a second before nodding my head. However, just as suddenly as I thought about Brian thinking, another thought happened to occur to me.

“Wait, what about your missions? Shouldn’t you be resting up for your nighttime activities?” That was one of the few things I happened to learn at the other base. Natalie and the others specialized in reconnaissance missions and getting rid of humans or other beings that happened to stroll a little too close to the supernatural being that was our Boss. Cody had mentioned that higher ranked Proxies specialized in killing during the night, when it was far more likely for humans to be scared and frightened with what goes bump in the middle of the night. Because of that, I knew that these particular Proxies were probably sleep deprived from getting me in the late afternoon; they probably should have been asleep by now… or at the very least, they would have been awake at the upcoming night.

Was I worried for their well-being already? 

Probably not. I was just looking out for their best interests because the Boss’ punishments were… Well, they weren’t pretty and I had never been on the receiving end of his anger, but the others… Especially with what happened to Kate. She was the prime example of a Proxy who had ventured too close to the supernatural that she, herself, became closer to what she had once been repulsed. Regardless, I didn’t want to be the cause of impending doom for my new colleagues. 

Brain laughed a little before ruffling my hair a bit. It was a kind gesture, one that I initially didn’t think he was capable of. Then again, every time he spoke, I felt like he was an understanding, kind fellow. 

It did not help at all that his southern accent had me lowering my guard. I don’t think I’ve ever been to the south, but now, I kind of wished that I had. If everyone talked like that in the south, I would try harder to like living day to day life under the threat of endangering myself due to the fact that I was still more human than the rest of the Proxies. 

Finally, Brian answered. 

“Actually, the Boss gave us a few days’ off since you’re new and everything. For some odd reason—” Here, he looked down at me, something cold and critical in his eyes while I floundered a little at his sudden change in demeanor. Now this… this is what I was expecting from someone who was part of the elite tiers of Proxies. Here, this was the face of a killer, a supernatural being that was once a lowly human. “—he wants us to accommodate you to the best of our ability.”

“Y-y-you don’t do this often?” Shoot, my stutter was back. I swallowed hard and hoped whatever deity—besides the Boss—was out there that Brian didn’t notice that I was clenching my fists tightly in order to have control over something because my voice was going haywire and I’d rather not draw attention to that weakness. “I, uh, I mean… You don’t always act this nice to newcomers.”

Brian laughed. It was a warm, hearty chuckle that drew a smile on my face. When he looked at me, his eyes weren’t as cold, but it was definitely not as warm as it could have been.

“Ellie, darlin’, this situation hasn’t happened before… at least none that I recall.”

I swallowed hard and forced my voice to be calm and steady instead of the stuttering, stammering thing that I wanted to get rid of. I didn’t like it when my stutters could be used against me. It was bad enough as a sign for making me more vulnerable than what I already was. 

“Well, I suppose there’s always a first time for everything.”

Brian’s eyes seemed to soften and I finally let out a sigh of relief. 

“I think you’ll fit in quite well.”

Again, he patted me (this time on the shoulder) before he walked out of my bedroom and told me to get settled in as he got a meal onto the table. 

Chapter Text

Clothing went into the closet. 

Toiletries were organized upon my desk until I visited the bathroom. (Yikes, I wonder what it would be like to share a bathroom with three men).

Any other knick knacks were either kept in my backpack or were in my medical bag. That bag, I decided, was either going to stay under my bed for easy access, or it was either going to make its home in the basement—the so-called “laboratory”. 

Or—

Or I could just take the medical bag down to the lab and if they were stocked in supplies, I would just leave it in my room. After stuffing the medical bag underneath and away from prying eyes, I decided that I would explore the house on my own. 

Yeah, I had the whole tour with Brian, but I wanted to get the lay of the land without any commentary. It was one thing to have someone introduce you to something new and to get the time and effort to do so yourself. 

I made my way out of my room and began the descent towards the first floor. Ideally, I would have had the luxury to explore the second floor, but they were all bedrooms and I don’t think someone would allow a stranger a tour of their room unannounced. That younger man, though… Toby was it? He seemed more than willing to have a conversation with me. Brian seemed like the second best candidate, but I had forgotten the third man.

The third Proxy in question… What was his name again? All I could remember was that he wore the white mask with suspiciously feminine features. I couldn’t exactly see his eyes clearly, but he didn’t seem as intimidating as, um… 

He wasn’t as intimidating as our Boss.

Then again, no one was as scary or frightening as the Boss. 

Perhaps I would learn the third Proxy’s name if I find him. 

Slowly, I walked down the stairs. I had the foresight to take off my shoes and kept my socks on just in case. It was a habit, probably born out of my old life, but it rankled me to wear shoes in the house. The others back at my other base had always worn shoes in the house because 1) the lab, despite it being headed by a serial killer, was still a lab and I knew that chemicals and what have you was worse than wearing shoes inside and 2) sometimes, there would be remnants of our victims stuck underneath the soles of our shoes. 

I may not have been the one stabbing or bashing our victims to death, but I have certainly seen more than my fair share of death and what the victims looked like right after Natalie got pissed for one reason or another. Honestly, the tasks given were always gruesome and terrible to execute, much less watch and take notes on. A part of me wished to know how my old self would have reacted. Would I have been moved to compassion? Or would I have been more than fine with blood seeping or gushing out of wounds? 

I once asked Cody and he hadn’t answered.

Now, I suppose I will never get an answer. 

Regardless, I held the shoes in hand until I reached the bottom of the stairs. I could move relatively softly when I wanted with shoes on if I tried hard enough. Stairs were something that could creak and moan without much interference. Task finished, I then headed to where the kitchen was. 

Interestingly, I saw Brian humming a little to himself, his movements quick and precise as he chopped up what I assumed to be meat. On the stove, I could see a pot and beside it, a can of what appeared to be tomato sauce. 

I hoped it was tomato sauce.

Blood was always a sight to see, even on your off days. 

Anyway, I moved past the kitchen and was preparing my strides to encounter the living area when—

“How are you finding this place?” 

I whirled around, instincts telling me to keep my body close to the ground and arms thrown out as if to catch a punch. Fortunately, it wasn’t an intruder. 

Unfortunately, for me, it was one of my colleagues. This man was heavyset with broad shoulders and sideburns so thick, you would think that he would have been in the business for Elvis impersonations. His deep brown eyes looked at me warily, as if expecting me to follow through with my defensive stance and go for a punch. However, there was a spark of something there, like mischief and fondness. 

That was weird. 

We technically hadn’t met until like half an hour ago, but I guess he was a friendly man. Aside from his stature, he didn’t look like a killer—a lumberjack, maybe, if his choice in clothing underneath his tan jacket was any indication. 

I relaxed my stance and faced the man with what I hoped was a smile on my face. I was usually good at greeting people—it was the conversation itself that I usually faltered in. 

“Hey! The house looks…” I trailed off, not sure how to describe the house. It was okay. It wasn’t like it was anything fancy, but it was more than hospitable  with the conditions of the house looking fairly normal when compared to houses from the human world. I mean, I was still human.

Proxies were other. 

“It looks homy.” I find myself sighing a little in irritation. Homy? Who says that anymore? Why did that have to be the adjective that I was going for? I mean, who else would have said that? “I mean, it looks great!”

The man in front of me looked like he was on the edge of laughter as he watched. Were my attempts to engage in conversation that funny? Was my floundering that entertaining? Geeze, perhaps I was a comedian or a frumpy nerd in my past life. If the latter was the case, then nothing had changed. 

“I’m glad that you like the place. It was hell trying to get Rogers to clean up after himself.” The man sighed like he was a father trying to teach his teenage son to take better care of himself. “The kid can keep his room clean, but not the rest of the house. Tell him about his turn taking out the garbage and you’ll get yourself an earful of griping and all that.”

I stifled a giggle, at the thought of Toby ranting about taking out the garbage. He seemed like a diligent sort of guy, but then again, I didn’t know any of them yet. Only bits and pieces of the first impression that I had of them. It seemed like all three of them were far kinder than I had hoped—kind of like Cody and the others—well, Natalie lived up to her expectations. 

“You look like you were trying to find something,” he observed. The man leaned against the wall and crossed his arms across his chest. It wasn’t meant to intimidate, but I immediately felt the urge to tell the truth and nothing but the truth if it ever came down to it. “Or—” He looked at me like prey going after his first kill. 

Good grief, I spoke too soon. He was definitely living up to the reputation that Proxies were bloodthirsty killers. 

“—you’re trying to find someone?”

I found my face feeling hot as he relaxed his stance and gave me a mock glare.

Oh, I see it now.

It was a joke. A bit.

It had me completely fooled, though. Ah, what was it with people and romance? 

“I was just looking around, getting myself acquainted with the premises.” That was definitely not a lie. If I could have spent the rest of my time avoiding them just so I could explore the house, I would have said so, but I had a feeling that a lot of people—Proxies included—probably wouldn’t take kindly to that. “Why? Did Toby ask for me?”

Maybe I shouldn’t have said that so quickly.

I was genuinely curious. If my coworkers were talking about me behind my back, I wanted to make sure that they weren’t plotting to kill me or something like that. The Boss wouldn’t permit that, considering that it was rare for people to end up getting employed into his service. 

Either that, or they ended up on the news as a missing person. 

The man—seriously, I need to find out his name or else I’ll end up looking like a fool. I am a fool, but I didn’t want them to know that. 

“You could say that. He’s usually a little more shy around new people…” 

I looked up at him, wondering why his tone of voice had shifted. At first, he sounded like he was teasing both Toby and I, but then… Then he sounded like something was weighing heavily on him… It sounded regretful, like some sort of sorrow had taken hold of him. I looked at him curiously, but he became just as gregarious as before. I would have questioned him, but before I could do so, I heard a noise coming from the kitchen. 

It sounded a lot like—

The man behind me uttered a low curse before carefully brushing past me, his long strides easily taking him into the kitchen. Not wanting to be left out of the commotion, I ran after him, careful not to scuff my shoes upon the wooden floorboards. When I finally reached the kitchen area, I was greeted by—

“Rogers, how many times have I told you—”

“Don’t start, old man. Thomas over here was burning the food and I thought he needed help.” Toby, disgruntled and clearly on edge, gestured rudely at the pot that was overturned and what looked like some sort of tomato sauce splattered all over the counter, the walls, and the floor of the kitchen. I assessed the damage and then began studying Brian and Toby. 

Aside from the rising anger in both of their faces, they appeared to be fine. However, since I was the new medic, I wanted to make sure that no one was hurt. Of course, my job expertise was supposed to be served during cases of victims fighting back or the cops getting too close to the action. Regardless, I didn’t want my new charges to get serious burns without treatment on my first day here.

As the man with the sideburns began chewing out the both of them (specifically Toby), I sidestepped the carnage that was supposed to be our meal. Since Toby was busy getting reamed, I headed in Brian’s direction and gestured for his arms. He had taken off his tan hoodie and was sporting a similarly colored sweater that had seen better days. He quirked a brow at me before he nodded in silent permission. 

I rolled up his sleeves and found that his arm was just as sun kissed as the rest of his skin, the muscles rippling under the surface as I poked it. Nothing was inflamed. I suppose the heated tomato sauce had only grazed his sweater. 

“Nothing hurts,” I wanted to affirm in question. “Don’t lie,” I continued when I saw that he was going over something in his head, as if he wanted to tell me something to soothe me, sugarcoating the reality of something terrible. “I know that the Boss gifted you guys with faster healing rates, but it’s always a necessity to treat severe wounds like burns so that it won’t get worse.”

Brian pondered thought for a second before smirking broadly at me.

“You’re not stuttering.”

He sounded amazed. 

I didn’t know how to react to that. Had I been stuttering a lot around him? I could have sworn that I had mostly gotten rid of such a tic, but I suppose that it was only wishful thinking. 

“Anyway,” I gestured to his arms. “It looks like the worst of the damage is on your sleeves.” I thought for a second before adding, “My condolences.”

At that, Brian looked upon me as if I were supposedly a heaven sent angel. He looked over my shoulder and I turned around as well. Toby and the other man looked at me with differing looks of what appeared to be other approval or disgust. 

Belatedly, I noticed that Toby was busy sniggering into the palm of his hand while the other man rubbed the bridge of his nose. 

“Congratulations,” the man with the sideburns stated, “you have officially turned on Brian’s Dad Mode™.”

“Dad Mode™?” I couldn’t help but ask a little helplessly.  

Tim nodded, a little nonplussed that I had somehow made this terrible error that never had the chance to be corrected. 

“What Tim is trying to say,” Brian managed to wheeze out between laughs, “is that you and I are going to be very compatible if your humor is like mine.”

I couldn’t help myself, I felt my cheeks heat and the grin on my face becoming just a little more pronounced. Perhaps the dimple on my right cheek was even apparent at that point. 

“Oh, well, I suppose this partnership is going to be a blast if that’s the case.” Although my voice was low and quiet, much softer than their booming voices, they all seemed to have heard that sentiment because Brian reached over and ruffled my hair while Tim let out a breath in what I assumed to be in fond exasperation. 

Unfortunately, our little moment couldn’t last. 

“That’s great and all, so I’ll see you guys later!” Toby made as if to leave, but Tim grabbed him by the the back of his hoodie and pulled him back so that he was back in the kitchen. “Come on, Wright! It was Brian’s fault and—”

Tim tugged Toby’s clothing again, effectively shutting down the man who began twitching violently in the assault. 

“And guess who has to cook another batch for dinner?” At Toby’s silence, Tim nodded in satisfaction before letting go. “Brian and…” He looked at me, to which I replied with my name. “All right then, Ellie, get to work with Brian and—”

“Wait!” Much to all of our surprise, it was Toby who spoke up again. Although he looked serious, there was a look of mischief on his face that he aimed directly at Tim’s face. “Ellie didn’t check that I was okay as well!”

Tim cursed a little under his breath, but ultimately nodded at me. 

“Be careful with that one,” he warned. “He can’t feel pain like the rest of us, so make sure that he isn’t badly burned. Take my advice and go overboard with any treatment because we can’t afford an infection considering that we’re always away on missions.”

“He can’t feel—” I was about to question, but Toby once again butted in. 

“How about we get started on getting to that laboratory in the basement? I mean, we might as well break it in on your first day here.” He sent me a wink and for some odd reason, I felt myself smiling cautiously in return. It was a natural reaction—I guess I responded well to others who were just as bright and sunny like Toby. 

Tim growled out, “You might as well admit that you want to get out of work, but I can see your logic, what with your situation and all.” 

He looked at Toby, almost as if sending him a private message telepathically. For all I knew, the boss might have granted them that power. Regardless, once Toby took in that silent look, the look of mischief had gone out like a candle in the wind. One moment, he looked like any young adult with the rest of the world at his feet. Now… he looked serious.

Almost as if he had aged a decade in a millisecond before he turned his head towards me. I didn’t know what to expect, but something lurked in the depths of those dark brown eyes of his. My mouth went dry and my palms became sweaty. For the first time all day, I felt like… I felt like prey within the sights of a predator. Again, it felt like I was facing against Natalie, except I knew that she wouldn’t hurt me considering that the Boss scared her more than she liked to admit.

These guys… No, these men were different from what I imagined. How much of what they had done so far was a show to get me eased into their lifestyle? How much of this was improvised or real? Was I being paranoid? The second that thought passed through my mind, Toby was already grabbing my wrist and dragging me to a doorway near the pantry. 

The basement.

We were going down the basement. 

Behind us, Tim was griping about something while Brian laughed and interjected with a pun or two.  

Into the belly of the beast, we walked down the rickety stairs of the basement. 

Chapter Text

As we walked, I belatedly realized something quite crucial. 

His hand.

Toby’s hand.

His hand was on my wrist.

His hand, while firm, was still gentle and warm around my skin. Perhaps it was a matter of precaution—maybe he didn’t want me running away. However, that thought was a bit of a stretch. I briefly entertained the thought of trying his patience, but it was definitely not worth the risk. 

I might have tried pranking Cody, but this was new and I wanted to cement the impression that they could rely on me. 

Instead, I allowed him to drag me down the dark stairs until he reached a point at the bottom where he finally reached the light switch and flicked it on. 

Immediately, my jaw dropped down to the floor. 

It looked like a mini hospital. There were two gurneys in the center of the basement, a bookshelf with what I assumed was filled with medical textbooks, cabinets and shelves filled to the brim with a lot of medical supplies. Closer inspection revealed that it was a mish-mash of bandages, gauze, ointments, and several other supplies—evidently, the Proxies hadn’t thought to organize the mess. However, it was a start to making this basement into a little infirmary. 

At the very least, it looked a little hospitable for my present concern.

After my brief perusal of the resources at my disposal, I turned to Toby and gestured for him to give me his arms. Like Brian, his sleeves and some parts of his hoodie were splattered with the tomato sauce and as I peeled back one of his sleeves, I saw—

“You can’t feel this?” 

Horrified by the sight of the inflamed skin, I immediately had him standing next to a sink and then adjusting the taps so that it would release cool water.  After telling him to allow the cold water to run down the affected areas of his arm, I dashed over to the cabinets and shelves. To my relief, I immediately found the supplies I needed: a plastic bag from some unknown food chain. 

When I approached Toby, he looked askance at the plastic bag in my hand and raised a brow. 

He let out a high pitched whistle, almost like a bird’s call before asking, “A plastic bag?” 

I shrugged. “Treating scalds and burns, requires at least twenty minutes of cold water running on the burn. Later, I’ll use this plastic bag to cover up the burn because it’s cool and will offer protection once your arm heals.” I approached him and began rifling through the desk’s drawers.

“And what are you doing now?” Toby asked, his face a little unreadable under the dim lighting of the basement (I should really ask for better lighting or light bulbs later on) as I did so. Even though the water was running in the background, it seemed to me that there was a pounding in my head, a palpitation in my mind. Something was off about this whole scenario, but I didn’t know what.

Whatever the case, I filed that information away for later. Right now, I was taking charge as a much needed medic for this band of Proxies. 

“I’m trying to find scissors or something sharp so we don’t have to use the entire plastic bag. Also—” I turned to him and glanced again at his arm inside of the sink. “—would you like some pain medication? You don’t look like you’re in pain…”

Then again, one of the men upstairs did say that he ‘couldn’t feel pain’. I wondered how much of that was true, but it appeared that my suspicions would become allayed because Toby smirked at me, his neck cracking a bit as he moved. 

Eyes trained on me, he said, “It’s kind of a rare disease. CIPA, also known as Congenital Insensitivity to Pain and Anhidrosis.” Toby sighed, the sound almost wistful. “I can’t feel pain and I don’t sweat. If it weren’t for the Boss’ powers, I have a feeling that I would have died a long time ago.”

I didn’t know what to say to such a comment like that, so I elected not to. Instead, I found the scissors and began cutting a sizable amount of the plastic so that I could lay it on his arm later. Once that was finished, I placed the materials over the smooth surface of the desk, careful not to allow dust onto the makeshift bandage and then I approached the bookshelf. As was expected, I saw a slew of encyclopedias, medical textbooks, and a smattering of fictional novels. While the bookshelf was a lot smaller than I would have desired, I still found myself entranced.

Back at the old base, there was a mini library that no one ever visited. Well, that might be an over exaggeration. Cody had taken all of the medical textbooks and science books down to his laboratory for his own personal use. 

Kate would often run off to who knows where—I don’t think she has much of a semblance to humanity anymore, but she was still kind in her way.

Sometimes, I would see Natalie in there when she wasn’t busy with preparing meals or out on a mission for the Boss. Her eyes would be focused intently on a sketchbook that she either bought or stole from one of her victims. If I walked a little closer to her, I would have been able to see what she was drawing and heard how forceful she was in sketching. 

I often thought about asking her to see what she drew, but I couldn’t do it. I was still a little shy and became a stuttering mess in her presence. As for her, I think she tolerated me, but there were times when we could get along. Within the confines of the small library, we simply coexisted until either one of us would be called away. 

Anyway, it appeared that the shelf of books was caught in a hurricane. Just like the cabinets and the drawers, books were placed haphazardly here and there. There was no sense in the order; all of it was just pure chaos. I looked back at Toby (he was still keeping his arm under the running water) to find that he had his eyes closed and that he was leaning against the counter as if he were nodding off. 

“If you’re going to fall asleep,” I warned, “please don’t. You’ll probably end up on the floor.”

He blinked lazily at me, a smirk raising the corners of his lips. He rolled his shoulder back and whistled a little under his breath.

“Is there something else that I should know about?” I had turned back to the bookshelf, summarizing its contents mentally while I heard him splash some water into the sink. “Do you have tics—not the buggy kind.”

As I rummaged through the bookshelf, I noticed that there were quite a few books from popular series. Was that a comic book? As I flipped through some pages, fully intent on trying to find out what it was about, I felt a presence at my side and—

“You don’t have to do this, you know.”

For some odd reason, throughout the entire time he had been around me, he had never taken off his face mask. I didn’t know why, but I had a feeling—

“You’re staring at it, aren’t you?” Although I could hear a sense of joviality in his tone, I paid close attention to his eyes. There was a darkness there—a sense of doom pervaded my mind. There was something off about this mask, about this situation. 

In fact, I had been feeling something ever since that incident in the kitchen. There was something sketchy all about this. They were Proxies and judging by what little I had seen of them interacting, it seemed like they were playing up their interactions with each other. It was almost as if...

Suddenly, I found myself cornered against the bookshelf, his towering frame easily dwarfing mine. I looked and saw that the dark look in his eye hadn’t abated. In fact, it seemed like his already dark brown eyes seemed to be an endless pit of darkness. Did the Boss’ powers have something to do with that? Or was it just my perception under the dim lighting that needed to be fixed?

Whatever the case, I didn’t know how to react other than to brace my hands against the bookshelf. Both of my hands grasped what I hoped were large textbooks. However, my movements must have caught his eye because in that instant, he laughed and grabbed the front of my shirt, dragging me forward into his chest. 

It was an awkward position, but I couldn’t help but marvel at the heat that he was emitting. Was he always this warm? Or was he sick?

A bit confused and wanting to get out of this situation, I brought my hand forward and pressed the back of my hand against his forehead. So surprised by this sudden maneuver, I managed to keep my hand there for a solid second before placing the back of my hand against his neck. 

“Huh.” I muttered more to myself than to him, but I was assured that he heard me. “You’re not sick.”

I brought my hand back down to my side and Toby dropped his hand from my shirt. This time, when I happened to glance up at his face, he looked less… dangerous or whatever the heck he was trying to do only a few seconds ago. 

Toby stared impassively down at me before releasing a breath that was still muffled from his continued usage of his mask. That reminds me…

I looked up at him in what I hoped was a stern expression on my face. “Look, you don’t have to show me what’s underneath your mask or whatever. Frankly, I don’t have the need to make fun of you or be scared of whatever you’re hiding under there. As your medic, I only want what’s best for you. So unless I have the ability to help you with whatever you’re dealing with, then it’s none of my business.”

Perhaps it was my words, but for some odd reason, I knew that Toby had taken my words to heart. Gently, he edged away from me so that I could finally bask in my personal space once again. 

“Furthermore,” I said as I nodded in the direction of the sink, “you weren’t supposed to leave the sink. You still have like ten minutes left so get to it.”

Toby looked down at me and I got the sense that he was sizing me up before he nodded and headed back to the source of running water. As I watched, he cracked his neck and he whistled two short notes before he took his place at the sink. Knowing that it was my job, I asked the next question that had been plaguing me for a while now.

“Is there anything I should know about you?” I leaned a little against the bookshelf, careful not to nudge it so that it may not fall. “Aside from what’s under your mask?”

His dark brown eyes held mine and I could have sworn that there was a hidden message deep in those dark, dark depths. Before I had a chance to even decipher what emotion lay within his eyes, he whistled again, breaking me out of my concentration.

“You already know about my having CIPA, but I also have Tourette’s.” He shrugged when he saw the mild look of worry that must have been made apparent on my face. “I think I’ve had it since childhood or something. To be honest, I can’t remember anything before the Boss initiated me.” 

He looked at me again and this time, I could see the emotion clearly on his face. For some odd reason, he looked almost… He looked regretful? Remorseful? Guilty? Hesitating, I left the bookcase behind me and approached the sink. We have been talking for a while now—I wouldn’t be surprised that we had long since surpassed the required twenty minutes. Still, I wanted to keep him there. The sound of running water was soothing and it reminded me…

It reminded me of something.

I sighed. 

This feeling was familiar. Whenever I tried to remember something from my past, it was like trying to overcome a brick wall that stood between me and my past. It was like there was a buzzing sort of static in my head, as if the Boss himself was separating my memories. The ones that I could easily remember from waking up with the rest of my colleagues surrounding me and the ones that I could only wish I could catch snippets of. 

It was… it was disheartening. 

However, knowing that Toby was like me in that we didn’t know our pasts… perhaps this was a chance to gain some sort of kinship with him? Or was it too early to form alliances here? 

I paused and then—

“You can’t remember anything else, can you?” 

His warm breath was caressing my ear. When had he come so close to be within my space without even noticing? Out of instinct, I froze and closed my eyes. Given that he was whispering in my ear and that I could feel the way his words entered my ears… he must have taken off his mask. For some odd reason, apprehension and fear flooded my being. 

I had heard stories from Cody and occasionally Natalie that the Boss was a demon or at least, an eldritch abomination that only Lovecraft could have hoped to dream of. Because of his already supernatural being, it was only assumed that there were other beings that may have existed—some, Cody theorized, may be as or even as more powerful than the Boss. For all I knew, Toby and the others were all demons or something as awful as that. It wouldn’t be too far off that maybe Toby would be something as grotesque as the Boss…

I kept my eyes closed. 

Even if the Boss had instructed the men to not hurt me because I was supposed to be their new medic, I wouldn’t be surprised if they could do other things that might damage me. Still…

A low, amused chuckle filled the air. Although the water kept flowing from the taps of the sink, I knew that he was right at my side and he was probably judging me right now. That didn’t matter. I was a bit too nervous to do anything other than focus on my breathing.

Toby laughed again and gently grasped my wrist. I must have jumped or flinched at the sudden physical sensation of his warm fingers on my skin, but… It felt familiar and calming; it anchored me to this plane of existence. The static in my head returned, but everything fell to a complete stop (even the flow of water from the sink had blurred too deeply into the background) when Toby rubbed his thumb over the expanse of my wrist as he held it. 

“You’re free to look. Don’t be shy.” 

I opened my eyes.

His mouth… I couldn’t help but gasp and bring my hands to cover my own mouth. 

The left side of his mouth had a gash the size and diameter of a golf ball. A few flaps of skin hung near the edges of the gaping hole. His teeth could be clearly seen through the gaping cavern. I don’t know how to explain how he had gotten this way. Just… how? 

My hand, the one that Toby hadn’t grasped, immediately shot out and caressed his cheek. He looked taken aback when I chanced a look at his eyes, but I didn’t care. How could something so huge, something like this shouldn’t be on his face!

“What… what happened?” My question came out as a whisper, but I quickly mde momentum when I allowed my trembling hand to rest on his face. “W-w-what did you do?” 

I pursed my lips and tried to blink through the tears that were gathering at the corners of my eyes. There was a reason why I wasn’t asked to kill people. Even though I was desensitized to a victim’s plight, that didn’t mean that I couldn’t care about my teammates or colleagues. I was weak and pretty soon, everyone would know about it. 

Or maybe… I was crying because it was him. 

Even Toby, who I had assumed wouldn’t be put off by tears, looked like he was either ready to run away from me or awkwardly try to comfort me. I didn’t know what I wanted either so I backed away and wiped my tears with the use of my sleeves. 

“Sorry,” I muttered. “It’s just… I thought that the boss—”

“Self inflicted damage doesn’t have to be healed.”

I stared at him.

Self-inflicted…

I kept my voice low and my eyes narrow. “What do you mean ‘doesn’t have to be healed?’” 

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Why would he want to keep his gash? It would probably make his life easier and he wouldn’t have to worry about infection or—

His grasp on my wrist tightened (how long had he been holding me?).

He leaned in close and in a tone that could only be described as calm, said, “You’re thinking too much. I don’t allow it to be healed because of my own personal reasons.”

“But—”

I wanted to say that he was insane to keep that gash on his face. Insane to want to bear the burden of looking like he was on the verge of something terrible. What was he trying to prove? What was the reason behind this self-inflicted pain?

I had to know, but right now, I had other matters to attend to.

This time, the grip on my wrist became so tight, that I immediately grimaced and fell silent. His grip was bruising and I could only imagine the sight my wrist was going to be later on in the evening. 

Once he realized that I wasn’t going to add anymore quips or questions, he finally let go and approached the sink. The comfortable ambiance from the flow of water stopped and once again, we were held together by the power of silence. 

Chapter Text

After checking the burn one last time, Toby left the basement and I became engrossed in the bookcase again. Slowly, I removed all of the books from the bookcase and then began rearranging them by separating fiction and nonfiction, through genre, and lastly by author. It was a slow going process, I must admit, because I would often spend some time looking through the books and ogling the covers. 

Some of the covers were badly wrinkled and aged, as if they had spent a lifetime with its original owner before ending up in the basement. Others were glossy and smelled faintly new. A quick look into the publication and I realized that they were one of the more recent additions to the case.

One by one, the books were all categorized and set into different shelves. The topmost shelf was reserved for medical texts and other important matters that I thought deserved to be there. The middle shelves were where I put the fictional books like short stories and novels. Lastly, the bottomost shelf was meant for miscellaneous books and if there were any new additions to the bookcase.

Once I was finished, I stood back to admire my work. A part of me wanted to color code some of the fictional novels (considering that some of the covers were gorgeous and splashed with colors that Natalie would have killed to have whenever she dabbled in painting). Feeling somewhat satisfied, I turned around and—

Brian was standing only a few feet behind me, an amused expression on his face.

Startled and somewhat alarmed that I did not hear him coming up from behind me (seriously, it looks like the Proxies have some sort of power to just appear when I least expect it), I gave a little shriek. Normally, I was a lot more put together than this, but come on! This was like an invasion of privacy. Honestly, the whole situation would have been more tolerable if Brian hadn’t laughed a little at me. 

But here’s the thing: he did.

And now, he was visibly smirking at me behind one of his hands. 

“Looks like you’re making yourself at home here.” He nodded at the bookcase behind me. “I was always telling myself that I was going to organize all of this, but I never had the time or the motivation. How long did it take you to do this?” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the bookcase. 

I shrugged. “I’m not sure to be honest. I’ve been working on this since I had dismissed Toby. Has he been treating the wound okay?” 

I managed to threaten Toby into agreeing that he wasn’t supposed to do anything strenuous or take off the makeshift film over his skin. Knowing the Boss’ powers, he would have been healed regardless, but I had to act the part anyhow. The healing process was accelerated depending on the severity of the wound. In Toby’s case, he could have his arm healed within the week, scar and all if the Boss didn’t feel like granting him full healing factor. Overall, I didn’t want to treat Toby again if he did something reckless. 

Brian answered, “Don’t worry about it. It took a while for Tim and I to beat it into his brain that he always needed to pay special attention considering that he can’t feel pain.” 

Oh, right, I thought to myself. There was a reason why I was so eager to get the shelves organized. 

“CIPA, right?” Without waiting for an answer, my eyes drifted to the books. If there was one thing I knew, it was that medical textbooks carried a lot of information, but I didn’t know if CIPA was common enough to have a look into. “What does it mean, exactly?” 

Brian shrugged. “Better to ask the kid yourself. It’s one of the few things that he can remember off the top of his head when it comes to grotesque backstories.”

I turned around to face Brian, who looked grave and somewhat different from the smile that I had gotten used to seeing on his face. Looking at him now, it looked like he had never known true happiness. 

I didn’t know why, but I walked closer to him. Smiling and joviality seemed to make up some of Brian’s personality, but what I was seeing right now… He really did have dimension and depth to him. I guess that’s why I really wanted to have him smile again. 

A frown didn’t look like it would suit him. 

“Kid?” I tried to joke. “Just how old are you guys? You look like you’re just about my age!”

At my attempt at humor, a ghost of a grin settled on his lips before abruptly dissipating. 

“I can’t remember.” He said. “I don’t think the Boss wants me to remember.”

My blood froze and the leftover static from before began to roar in my ears, crushing the insides of my brain. There was something here, but not at the same time.

Could it be—?

Brian snapped his fingers in front of my face, grounding me back to reality. This time, when I looked up at the much taller man, I noticed that there was a fake smile on his handsome features. 

“You should try and relax, Ellie,” he soothed. He nodded in the direction of the bookcase, his eyes finding mine when he glanced back at me. “You’ve done a lot of work for today, so let’sgo eat.. Shall we?” 

In the spirit of what I assumed to be chivalry, he held out his arm so that I could grasp the crook of his elbow. I didn’t know whether to question him further about his cryptic replies or laugh at how stupid we looked as we marched up the narrow stairs and into the kitchen area. 

The one thing I did know was that the food smelled utterly delicious. 

It was a little known fact, but Cody loved to cook and bake. As an independent scientist, who dabbled in a variety of sciences and medicine, he found that he enjoyed the chemistry and perfection of creating things that were okay to ingest. Often, as a reward for being a good student, we would end up baking an assortment of cakes, cookies, and my personal favorite, pies. 

Although Cody cooked great meals whenever it was his turn to man the kitchen, his heart lay in baking. Once, he had told me that baking required perfection. 

Perfect measurements.

Perfect temperature. 

Perfect perfection.

The one thing to remember, he told me as he cracked eggs into a bowl, is that baking is like an exact science while cooking is more like psychology or any other social science—a pseudoscience at best. 

Cody and I had a debate concerning if psychology could be considered a science, but it was all on good terms. Perhaps if it had been Natalie hounding him, the argument may have come to blows. Regardless, I had taken his words about baking to heart. 

In every step, there must be perfection or you have a chance of encountering a terrible outcome. 

As I walked through my new home, I could smell the spice and tang of tomato sauce coupled with the savory melody of meat. Enchanted by such a scent, I had no idea that Brian had been looking down at me. It wasn’t until he patted my head that I looked up to see his smug features. 

“You look like you walked into heaven.” 

“What can I say? It certainly smells like it is.”

We finally made our way to the kitchen table. Atop the wooden table, there were three plates set atop it, the presence of some sort of Italian food taking centerstage. Brian held out a seat for me, which I immediately took. If I stood up any longer, I probably would have fainted at how much I loved the scent of something cooked with magnificence. 

“Hey,” I started out conversationally, “why are there only three plates?” 

Brian sighed, a sense of exasperation and concern on his face as he meandered to the kitchen to grab three glasses. 

“Tim got called away by the Boss. Someone or something managed to get through the barrier.”

I frowned a little. “I thought you operated as a team. Why is he on a solo mission?” 

“The Boss demands and we deliver. Yeah, we work as a team in emergencies. Solo missions require stealth and Tim is only second to me in that department.” He sounded so proud of himself, I could almost be convinced that he wasn’t talking about murder. 

Then another question occurred to me.

“If you’re so good at stealth, why are you here with me?”

“To get to know you better, of course!” A quick quirk of my eyebrow and Brian sighed before settling deep into his chair. “That and… Tim is kind of shy and doesn’t know how to interact with you yet. I swear, it takes a couple months for him to warm up to new people.” Brian’s eyes twinkled at me as he leaned into whisper conspiratorially in my ear. “He still hasn’t warmed up to Toby, haha.”

“Yeah, laugh it up.” 

I turned around and found Toby leaning against the doorframe that led to the kitchen area. Instead of wearing a dark blue jacket, his goggles, and his customary mask, he only donned a loose sweater and jeans. His mouth, I noticed, was bare to the world. Immediately, I turned towards the table, my stomach churning in discomfort. It wasn’t like I was horrified by the gash (I was, but I wasn’t put off by the sight of it), it was just that… I felt like I wanted to cry when I saw how hurt he was. A part of me knew that he couldn’t feel it and that it was self-inflicted, but another part of me wanted to hug him and whisper that everything was okay. 

It was a strange instinct to have, I would later contemplate. I was usually blase about the whole affair concerning victims and their plights. Truly, it wasn’t personal. It was just that once you’ve watched your coworkers bash their victims heads and set up a fire one too many times, you just get sensitized. Honestly, I knew that I shouldn’t have been surprised seeing the gash on his face for the second because I have seen worse. 

I have seen victims throw up their insides after Cody had injected them with a plethora of viruses. 

I have seen victims cry and beg me for mercy as they crawled towards me only to end up with a knife flung into their cranium. 

In the beginning, I was hesitant, but had gotten used to it. The Boss was kind. My compatriots would never hurt me, lest they suffer under the Boss’ wrath. 

To see Toby, though… There was something tugging at me to hold him close and-and-and—

And what? 

I didn’t like seeing him hurt. 

That was it.

Yet… why? Why is it that when I looked at his wound, I wanted to help him, to show him that he wasn’t alone? 

Suddenly, I felt his presence looming over me. My breath caught in my throat as he sat down beside me even though he could have easily sat on Brian’s other side. What was he getting at? While Brian sat at the head of the table, I had situated himself at his left. I thought that Tobey would take up Brian’s right, but I was wrong. Now that the men were seated and Tim was proven to be out on a mission, it felt like I was being caged into a position where I couldn’t run away. 

This felt like a setup…

“I’m not going to bite you if that’s what you’re thinking.” 

Tobey prodded my shoulder with his own, playfully nudging me to start serving myself. Out of curiosity, I took a peek at him before blanching and looking away. When I had looked at him, his lips had broadened out to a smile, but there was a predator’s malice lurking within the depths of his impossibly dark brown eyes. It seemed that whatever happened between us after I helped him had not abated on Toby’s end. 

Now, here’s the thing about me, a thing that I’m certain had been retained from my previous self. I don’t like confrontation. I don’t like telling people that they’re wrong or to complain about something. Perhaps it was shyness or maybe it was the remnant of a person who desired peace above all things. If something didn’t go my way, it wasn’t in my nature to talk about it. Instead, I suffered in silence. 

Now that Toby looked like he was only seconds away from making me his next meal, I knew that I either had to suffer for an indeterminate amount of time after unknowingly offending him. That meant…

Well…

“H-how—” I winced at how my voice cracked and stuttered over such a simple word. Saving face, I nodded towards his arm in what I hoped was an encouraging manner. “—how’s your arm, Toby? You haven’t been doing strenuous things in the meantime, right?” 

Toby nodded as he lifted up his sleeve to show that his skin, while still looking badly burnt, was actually shades lighter than what it had been previously. It seemed like the Boss was generous in the healing factor for today. For the moment, I was glad that he at least wasn't hurting and that he obeyed my advice. Furthermore, the dark look in his eyes had receded so that it returned to the soft gaze that I—

That I—

The static in my head roared in momentum and then—

“This better not be a habit.” 

Groggily, I snapped to attention when I saw and heard Brian snap his fingers in front of me. His smile was still present (thank goodness), but it was tinged with worry and concern. Meanwhile, I could feel Toby’s body heat at my side; his stare was piercing my side as I tried not to look too hard in his direction. 

“Sorry about that… I think… Headache?” Even to my ears, I knew that it was somewhat of a lie, even if there was somewhat of a truth. I would have liked to explain to them in depth what was happening to me, but I don’t think we reached that point in our partnership to go deep into those details. 

Brian, who I think knew what I was going through, gave Toby a meaningful look. I’m not too sure of what that stare entailed because suddenly, I was being hauled out of my chair via Toby’s hand grasping my wrist. At first, I struggled against his strong grip, but he merely sent an irritated glance that had me shutting up and obeying. As a last resort, I turned back to find Brian smiling and shooting me a thumbs up.

Brian, with all the aplomb of someone who had managed to find and open his gifts before Christmas, said, “Play nice, you two!” He then winked at me before I was whisked away to the front door and into the depths of the outside. 

Chapter Text

Ever since I had woken up with no memories, I had become accustomed to the woods that lay outside of my previous site of operations. The woods were always dense—one could get lost even with the Boss’ blessing. The trees were tall, the shadows darker than what was considered normal. On the rare occasion where I happened to stay in the woods on the human plain, I noticed that there were more noises and animals. Here, in this hellscape, the woods were as forgiving and merciful as the Boss.

That is to say not at all. 

I didn’t know where Toby was taking me, only that once we were in the thick of it all, he released my wrist and continued forward. Knowing that while I had the Boss’ blessing, it was still suicidal to be in the woods alone. Pairs were safe, loners were as good as damned. With no alternative, I followed closely after the Proxy. Together, we tromped through the woods, not at all caring about the noises that we were making in the midst of the dead silence that often accompanied those who traveled through the woods. 

For a while, I focused on moving forward without tripping or stepping too hard on fallen twigs and undergrowth. I would sometimes raise my eyes, only to find fantastical creatures or mirages of what I assumed to be the echoes of previous travelers who had been lost to their own brand of madness. 

After that, I  resolved to keep my eyes focused on the back of Toby’s shoes.

How long did we walk? I had no idea. All I knew was that after a while, my legs began to burn and my hair was plastered to my forehead with sweat. I thought about asking Toby why he had taken me away from starting my dinner, but just as abruptly as the thought entered my mind did he finally stop.

We were in the middle of a clearing, the trees surrounding it as large and towering like the skyscrapers that were described in books and in the media. Further inspection revealed that the clearing was circular—almost too perfectly circular. In the center—too perfectly in the center—there was the largest tree that I had ever seen. The trunk was so wide and the tree so towering that I had to back up a couple steps so that I could only hope to see the top of this magnificent growth of nature.

It wasn’t until I nearly backed myself into Toby’s firm body that I finally stopped looking at the world in childish awe and wonderment. There was a reason why Toby had brought me here and judging by the way he was looking down at me, I knew that I was going to find out soon. 

He sat against the trunk of the tree, his back hitting against the side as if he were a marionette whose strings had been cut. His eyes closed and his head leaned back against the tree, an expression on his face that I had never seen before: peace. He sat like that for a time before he made a come hither motion with the crook of one of his fingers. He still had his eyes closed so that he didn’t see the uncomfortable look on my face. 

A little uncertain, I stood a couple feet away from him before slowly approaching. As I was about to take a seat in front of him, his hand shot out and grasped my wrist. Once he made contact, he pulled me close to him so that I had no choice, but to sit beside him.

“I could have done that,” I grumbled as I massaged my wrist. It didn’t hurt, per se, but he was definitely not holding his strength back from me. While I was initially irritated that he decided to push me around, I guess it could have been worse. 

Toby rolled his eyes at me. “You were going way too slow.” He rolled his head and cracked his neck a little. Following that movement, he gave a low whistle before saying, “I’m not sure if I should pass you or not.”

I blinked at that. 

That was definitely not something that I expected. 

“What do you mean? Pass?” For some odd reason, I thought about school and grades. I mean, I had to have gone to school somewhere… Then again, homeschooling was also an option, but I had a feeling that I didn’t go through that. 

He chuckled, the sound was low in his throat as he looked up at the branches of the tree above us. Although he was sitting next to me, he still dwarfed me in height so I had no choice but to look up at him. 

His eyes were still trained on the branches and leaves above us, a perfect canopy in a forest filled with terrible, supernatural things. However, his body tensed when I leaned in closer to him. Hmm…

“You might as well tell me, Toby.”

“We’re getting to that part, Origami Girl.” 

That nickname. 

I furrowed my brow and crossed my arms in front of my chest. There was something about the way he said it, the way my ears pricked at that name. I should have just let it be, but something called to me when he used that name. 

That sense of familiarity… There was something about Toby, about this whole situation that told me not to let this feeling go; that I had felt something like this before. What was it? I couldn’t define this emotion…

“You’re crying.” This time, when Toby spoke, he looked down at me, his face filled with concern and—

I found myself blinking at a wrinkled mass of white cloth. Although it was crumpled and looked like it had been living in his pocket, I nodded my assent and took it from him. What he said was true. I was crying, but not the overly weepy kind of crying. These tears slowly trickled from the corners of my eyes and slid down my cheeks. 

As I hid my face, Toby continued to speak.

“You know, when we received the call that we were going to get a new medic, I was expecting…” He frowned a little, a whistle escaping his lips. “Well, I definitely wasn’t expecting someone like you.”

I bit my lip, trying not to cry harder. 

What was he going to say? That I looked weak? That I didn’t fit the bill? That even though the Boss had kept me alive, I was still a measly human and not a Proxy? 

“You’re too kind, too soft. You don’t know much about the world and the Boss decided to dump you with us. What were you expecting?” He glanced down at me, his deep brown eyes had become so cold and withering. His gaze brought a new round of tears to my eyes. Helpless, I could only hope that the blurring of my eyes would spare the pain that I felt when Toby looked at me. 

I… I didn’t want him to look at me like I was a failure. That I was too weak. 

I shouldn’t have felt that way. Really, I shouldn’t. I knew that my sole job that kept me alive was the fact that I was trained as a medic. I was no fighter, but Cody had tried his hardest to train me so that I could defend myself against wayward victims or if there ever came a time when the Boss’ territory was compromised. 

So why did it feel like I failed him? Like I wasn’t acting the way I should?

We just met! 

And yet…

I leaned away from his warmth and brought my knees up to my chest. Making myself seem smaller probably wasn’t going to give him the best idea of myself (he already thought of me as soft and weak), but there was nothing I could do to fight the instinct to cower away. It seemed that Toby had the same idea as I because he breathed out his nose and I felt him resting his back against the trunk of the tree again. I assumed that he was staring up at the leaves since I could no longer feel his piercing gaze.

For a moment, all I could hear was the slight rustle of wind blowing through the trees, of the mindless humming that Toby was doing under his breath. 

“We set it up.” I pricked my ears up at that, but didn’t dare move. “Everything. The pasta incident, the injuries… We were going to give you a final test at dinner, but…” I could feel him shrug his shoulders before the coldness of his gaze hit me again. It was a good thing that I was burying my head into my knees because I would have surely done something if that was the case. “Well, it appears that this could be your final test.” He paused again and then added as an afterthought, “It’s nothing personal. Even though the Boss told us we can’t permanently hurt you, that doesn’t mean we can’t do other things.”

At that moment, he stood. 

His tall stature, coupled with the fact that I was still sitting on the ground, had him dwarfing me. Not knowing where this was going, I jumped to my feet as well, adrenaline and fear coursing through me. Standing up did little to give me the confidence to deal with what he said next.

“Run.”

“W-what?” The instant I said that, I felt fear creeping up and down my spine. Toby looked at me, his eyes had gone a type of dark brown that looked neither warm nor inviting. He didn’t look like the same person who I had enjoyed talking to when we first met. In fact, I don’t think that he was the same person. 

Was he playing a part? Or was I just blind to this side of him that alarmed me? 

Or maybe— 

I heard an exasperated sigh that was followed by a short bark of laughter. “Even when I’m this close to doing something terrible to you, you still manage to overthink things.” He ruefully shook his head, a small smile tugging at the edge of his lips. The moment, however, ended when I took a step toward him and his gaze pierced my very soul.

His eyes…

There was nothing in them. 

No light.

No darkness.

It was void of everything that I had managed to see before this very moment. 

Like prey before the might of the predator, I stumbled backward, almost tripping over myself as I did so. Unfortunately, that only seemed more than enough cause for him to take a threatening step towards me. That one step would have been enough for me to run and seek cover, but like the fool I was, I managed to hold my ground without wetting myself.

I tried opening my mouth—to beg? To plead for mercy? 

Whatever the case, I couldn’t form words fast enough. In that moment, Toby growled, flexed, and—

And—

I ran. 

I wasn’t fast enough.

I wasn’t strong enough.

However—

I was definitely determined enough.

At least, I hope so. 

I rounded around the trunk of that massive tree, it seemed that it continued to grow in size as I ran around the circumference until I saw an opening in the trees. It looked like to be a cut clear path that would make it easier for him to capture me, but I knew that I couldn’t keep running around the tree. Without thinking too hard on it, I made my way towards the opening. 

It seemed like it was a beacon calling to me. The path was rough but well trodden. Branches and the like whipped past me, the brambles and stray leaves catching my face, my arms. Still, even though it hurt and I knew that I was definitely going to pay for it later, I kept up my pace. Behind me, I could hear Toby gaining on me, his dark figure looming in front of me in the shape of a shadow.

He was a Proxy and he was more than likely fit enough to take me down. He was playing with me, but I didn’t know why. 

He said that they were going to pass me… 

A thought struck me.

Was this another test? Was this just a test for me to pass? Why? I was just a medic, not a fighter or a person used for stealth! 

I wish I could have spent more time thinking about this development, but before I could, the most cliche thing happened. 

So engrossed in the thought of whatever test they were putting me through, I chanced a look behind me to gauge the distance. Of course, like any other person, I accidentally didn’t pay attention to what had been in front of me.

A tree branch.

And just like that, I was whipped back onto the ground, my head and back catching the brunt of my fall. For a moment, everything lay still and I could only hear a dull ringing in my ears. Blearily, I opened my eyes, trying my damnedest to move—to run again. However, my efforts were all in vain, there was no way I could move when I was so disoriented. 

And then—

I could hear him. His footsteps were like bombs going off in the distance. However, unlike bombs, instead of spreading chaos and destruction in his wake, he was aiming straight for me. For what, I don’t know. The Boss ensured that they couldn’t kill me, like he had said. Yet, he was a Proxy, the followers of the supernatural eldritch being that could easily kill me if so wished. 

The most that I could hope for was that the pain would end quickly or that maybe, Toby would be merciful. 

And then what?

What was I going to do about this? 

Before I could think further on this situation, Toby finally loomed over me, an unreadable look in his eyes. He crouched over my prone body and then leaned in close. His breath tickled my right ear as I tried squirming away from hm. It was no use. Before I could move any of my muscles, Toby whispered something in my ear.

His voice was so low, I could barely make out the syllables. However, while I couldn’t make out the correct words, I knew that he sounded somewhat apologetic, which meant…

I could only make out the shadow of his face as he leaned back before something came hurtling at my neck and then—

“You know I can’t feel pain, right?” 

I opened my eyes and found that I was sitting at what appeared to be a kitchen table. I looked around and found myself facing a young boy, perhaps around eight or nine who had a long scratch running up and down his arm. Even though the scratch was relatively thin, drops of blood were beading out of the wound, as if gushing out because someone had decided to put pressure beside the wound instead of on it. 

Judging by the tired but mischievous boy’s face, I could see that he must have done so. 

“Yeah, b-but…” Much to my horror, my mouth was moving, but the voice that I was hearing was not mine. It sounded younger, higher pitched. 

That wasn’t my voice.

But it was coming out of me like it was.  

Pondering further on this situation would have been ideal on my part, but I would have missed out on what was happening in front of me. With confusion and bewilderment coursing through my veins, my mouth continued to speak and I knew that I had to listen to this conversation. Something was telling me that there was an importance to this moment…

Perhaps I would learn something more about myself? Or perhaps there was something about this young boy who sat still, looking like there was nothing wrong with him, despite the wound on his arm.

“—and you shouldn’t be off playing like that!” 

The voice that was coming out of the mouth that I was supposed to be using, continued to speak. The voice… I didn’t know how to describe it… It warbled and it sounded shaky. Like the person who was speaking now was afraid. Even I, who knew that wounds may or may not have the potential to become something serious later on if it not treated immediately, knew that the light scrape would scar and eventually heal. But this young child that I was inhabiting? She acted like it was the end of the world. 

If it weren’t for the fact that I had no control over anything, I would have laughed. There was no other way to react other than to sit back and somehow relax at what was happening.

Was this a dream? 

A hallucination gifted to me due to Toby’s attack?

Or was this something far more sinister? 

I was definitely not going to rule out the effects of the Boss… What I was experiencing right now didn’t feel as sinister or malicious. Furthermore, the constant static and high pitched squeals that never fully left my consciousness before now seemed to be gone. 

For once, ever since I had first woken up with no memory, there was nothing else in my head. Nothing but me and my thoughts. It felt…

Nice.

Natural.

Before I could ponder further, I knew that I definitely needed to pay more attention to this conversation—no matter how inane or stupid it seemed to be at first glance.  

The boy, who I noticed had a wide dimpled grin and dark brunet hair, rocked back in his chair and let out two sharp notes as he whistled. The instant I heard it, I knew that it sounded familiar, but—

“Geeze, Maggie, you worry too much! I’ll be fine!”

The body that I was inhabiting flinched and I could feel a burning sensation in my eyes and on my face.

“Y-y-you know I don’t like being called that…” The body crossed their arms around their chest, further heat around the eyes alerting me to the sensation that whoever this person was, they were definitely going to cry. 

The boy, evidently aware of what was going on, quickly approached the body and pulled them into his arms. The warmth was intense and I felt utterly protected by this small child. At once, the body responded in kind. Instead of flinching or turning away from the boy’s advances, ‘Maggie’, wrapped her arms around his neck. The effect was near instantaneous. A few tears rolled out for sure, but the aching feeling of… whatever this body had been going through had dissipated.

“Sorry, Ellie,” he whispered. 

At that, I would have jerked back in surprise because that was my name and how could he have known my name (?), but again, there was nothing more that I could do than yell mentally inside my head as the scene outside and immersing this body continued to play like a sick home movie. 

As he pulled away from Ellie’s—my—body, he pointed with a grubby little finger at his wound, the slight smears of blood around the thin lining of it standing in stark contrast to the paleness of his skin. 

“See?” He poked at the area of the wound. “It’s stopped bleeding so there’s no need—”

“But, Toby, Lyra said—” 

Lyra.

Lyra.

Lyra. 

Suddenly, I was in control of my body again. I screamed and writhed, the coils of something sinister and evil consuming all of my organs and splitting my stomach open. There was pain inside of my head, pouring through my veins, and it burned and burned and burned until there was nothing left but the charred remains of—

I opened my eyes.

Chapter Text

As a person who was usually shut in our base of operations, I never had a chance to fully appreciate the great outdoors. Kate, I knew, would spend most of her time out there. I never knew what she did, but whenever I saw her coming back inside for meals or for missions, she seemed less… feral. Tamed. At her most unkempt state, she was somehow at her most calm. 

I had watched at the dinner table as she would eat alongside the rest of us, bits of leaves and brambles falling from her rapid movements like an angel on the verge of losing her halo. 

I had never managed to tell her this, but I always thought that she was beautiful. 

Now, as I stared up at the canopy of leaves above me, I don’t think that I ever could.

A whistle—two sharp notes and then silence. 

Footsteps. 

And then, without any much fanfare, Toby appeared above me, his dark brown eyes narrow with a mischievous glint. His mask that would often cover the lower part of his face, I noticed, was hanging around his neck. Noticing that I haven’t said anything or moved at all, he frowned a little before settling beside me. 

It was at that point that I noticed that I was lying down and that my head was at the base of the trunk of the great tree. Heavily, I sat up and clutched my head. The world was spinning and there was a heaviness that I struggled to deal with, but I managed to do just fine. 

“Why’d you do that?” I clutched the back of my head. Maybe after knocking me out with the blow to my neck, my head must have hit something on the way down. I wouldn’t put it past him to let me fall without breaking my descent. “Ugh, and what’d you mean by…” I heaved a great sigh. “Pass me?” 

Toby laughed a little before he knelt down in front of me. Despite what little distance was between us, I instinctively brought my knees close to my chest. Although he seemed like an initially good guy, I didn’t want to take any chances. Furthermore, the pain at the back of my head had me refraining from moving further. 

He cracked his neck and whistled another two sharp notes. 

“Well, obviously, we can’t just accept every little assistant that the Boss manages to scrounge up for us. As much as we need the help, the Boss rarely, if ever thinks about us in high regard. I mean…” He began counting on his fingers. “Of the five humans the Boss had us use as assistants, only one was considered worthy.”

I swallowed hard. 

“And the rest?”

His eyes glinted dangerously. Before I could consider the implication of that look, he leaped at me, a knife in hand. The blade was rusty, a bit dull if I were to hazard a guess. Although it didn’t look like Toby had spent the time or the effort to keep up with the knife’s maintenance, I knew that any strike with that blade would hurt. It would take power to get that blade to slice through the skin and knowing how powerful Proxies were… I definitely did not want to be on the other end of that knife. 

“Do you really want to know?”

I knew the answer, but I nodded my head anyway.

“… we used them as target practice.”

I swallowed down the bile in my throat and ventured to ask a question. It was a question that was either going to be my last or it could very well be me inviting this uncertain job as my future.

“Then—” I clenched my hands around my knees, my breaths becoming more rapid and shallow even though I tried my best to appear unaffected. “Then did I pass?”

He ignored that question by asking me another. 

“Your dream,” he murmured lowly under his breath. “What did you see?”

He seemed oddly insistent, but I needed to get away from that knife of his.

Without thinking, the next word out of my mouth was—

“As much as I love the idea of love at first sight, isn’t this kind of… I don’t know, not romantic?’ Brian walked towards us, his mask sitting atop his tuft of light brown curls, his smile dominating the lower half of his face. 

Toby moved away with the grace of a jungle cat who was thwarted by a predator bigger and larger than him. Looking at him right now, you wouldn’t think that Brian was a killer, but when I saw his hazel eyes flicker towards me, a knowing look in his eyes, I didn’t know what to think. 

Toby regarded his colleague with a look bordering on teenage dismissiveness and young adult dark humor. “If you think threatening a girl is romantic, I don’t want to know what you do on your date nights.” 

They shared a chuckle before Toby reached out with a hand towards me. I noticed now that his hands weren’t covered in his customary work gloves. Even in the dim light that was often seen here in the Boss’ realm, I could see that they were covered in scars, old and new. Some of them looked fresh, while others looked like they were several years old. Even his fingernails looked like they were chewed down to the quick. 

Toby looked down at me, his face no longer as expressive as it could have been. I didn’t know what he wanted from me, but the instant he began to retract his hand, I knew that I couldn’t let him go. Regardless of the ill feeling of his skin burning around mine, I knew that there would be consequences if I did or did not take his hand.

I didn’t want to know what would have happened if I refused him. 

That said, I encircled his wrist with my hand and let him do the same to me—although, I could see him blink at that. Was he really expecting me to let him just take my hand and lead me like a princess? He already proved that he could hurt me at any moment—a lesson that I must have forgotten due to Cody’s being nice to me. 

Clearly, I had been spoiled. 

Once I was back on my feet, Brian began heading out. Before I could do the same, Toby leaned in close to my ear. 

“Pass.”

My bed was cold. It was understandable to know that it was cold, but wow… It was cold. Perhaps it was the knowledge that it was going to be the first time that I was going to sleep in a new place. I had already resigned myself to living with a new host of Proxies, but I knew that I was going to miss the antics that plagued my past relationships with my former colleagues. 

Anyway, I decided to opt out of using the bed for now while I tidied the room and made sure that I was okay with my choices concerning where I put all my clothing, knick knacks, and so on. Following that, I decided to take a little respite on the ratty, old couch with an old, tattered manuscript that I had found during one of my observational visits to the human world. 

If I remembered correctly, Natalie had been tasked with getting rid of a person who had delved too deep into the mysteries surrounding the Boss. What was worse was that he was an aspiring writer and artist. When he eventually died, Natalie had taken his paints and sketchbooks, but had left for me a manuscript that the man had been working on. Of course, we also raided the house for other things to give the police an impression that we were no better than common thieves. 

Only those who knew about the Boss and his methods would even dare think that the murder was due to supernatural means.

As I flipped through the pages, a sense of peace flooded through me. The scent of the pages didn’t smell like worn books (a scent that I favored before all others), but the paper was nice and the scent of ink was even better. Some of the pages, I had noted, were slashed with corrections, tangents about making the writing better, and comments about flow abounded. 

Some of the comments were of silly puns and deprecating jokes. Of course, me being me, I laughed at them. Cody had as well, but Natalie had flipped me the bird while Kate remained silent. 

That begged the next million dollar question: 

Would any of the men here like to hear some of the jokes that were coming from the manuscript? I had a feeling that Brian might… Given his reaction earlier, Tim might not, but he might have a flair for the deprecating. Hmm, I wonder if—

There was a knock at my door. I hesitated for a second before I called out, “Come in!” 

I didn’t know who I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t Tim. Because he was inside the house, his mask was fastened towards the side of his head instead of in front of his face. As I stood up, he leaned against the door frame, one of his hands holding his waist. It was evident, even without the copious amount of blood that was seeping out the wound, that his side had been wounded. 

“Basement or—” He tried to ask, but I stopped him from speaking. Even though the Boss managed to speed up the process for healing, wounds were still wounds and needed to be properly looked at lest they heal terribly. Besides, I didn’t want Tim to strain himself more than he had to. 

I led him further into my room, careful to bear some of his weight with the training that Cody had instilled in me. Once he was settled into the drying couch, I retreated towards my bed so that I could grab my medical bag that was lying underneath. Hurriedly, I scampered back to Tim and took a measured look at his side. 

“Did you do this yourself?” I nodded at the makeshift bandage that encompassed his side. Although the bandage itself was completely soaked in his blood, the fact that it was tight and well wound pointed at the experience the man must have had. Then again, I didn’t know how long Tim had been in this business of being underneath the Boss’ influence. 

For all I knew, Tim could have been under the influence for years and years. For me, it had been… I shook my head and began lathering my hands with alcohol and snapping gloves on. After prepping the other materials, I began untying the bandage while he gritted his teeth. Seeing this, I took a random cloth from my kit and handed it to him. 

“Put this in your mouth or you’ll end up biting your tongue or worse.”

He glared at my tone, but bid as I told him. Once done, he let out a grunt, almost as if I had accidentally jostled the wound. I looked at the wound more closely and tentatively touched it. 

As I did so, I looked at him in concern as his body stiffened under my touch, but had quickly relaxed when I meant him no harm. 

Now that I see that the wound was nothing more than a bullet wound that needed little more than extraction and then suturing. Knowing that Tim and the Boss would end me if I didn’t do this quickly, I began to use the forceps and whatever else in my disposal to do the job as quickly and as professionally as possible. Unsurprisingly, as I worked, I didn’t think much about my surroundings or that Tim was watching me.

I knew that he must have bided his time doing something, I just didn’t think that when I finally looked up after my suturing that I would immediately meet his dark brown eyes searching mine. A little startled, I backed away and began packing away my supplies and gesturing towards the door so that he could wash up or leave if he wanted to.

What surprised me was that he shifted into a more comfortable position on my couch and looked at me. I didn’t know what he was trying to find, but I think something resonated within him as I accidentally dropped a few rolls of gauze and my forceps onto the hardwood flooring. He almost dove to the ground at the sound of the metal clanging onto the floor, but I somehow beat him to it (even though I wasn’t physically gifted as the rest of the men) and then warned him that he shouldn’t do anything too strenuous until the Boss’ magic made it so that the sutures were no longer in use. 

With Cody’s advice and his mathematical reasoning that he pressed upon me when I was under his tutelage, I was under the impression that it would take at least four days to a week for the bullet wound to be scar and another week for the evidence of such a mortal wound to disappear. 

Given the circumstances and how powerful these sets of Proxies were, I was inclined to believe that he would heal much faster than that. 

Plus, it didn’t help that I was a skilled medic—and no, I’m not being narcissistic, hahaha.

Anyway, I finished packing up my supplies before I turned back to my patient and then asked, “Is there anything else that I can help you with?” 

He didn’t look like the type to depend on others unless it was someone he truly trusted. Given what little I had seen of the Proxies’ interactions among each other, I could discern that he had a stronger and somewhat more healthy relationship with Brian. With Toby, I could sense that there was some sort of rivalry of sorts? I wasn’t sure if it was meant to go any deeper than that or if it was meant to come off as brotherly, but I knew that I would have to take note of that for future use. 

However, instead of answering with a valid response, he actually asked me another question. 

“You don’t remember anything, do you?” 

I blinked, a little taken aback by the bluntness of such a question. Then again, the Proxies—whether it be here or at the other base—were all somewhat blunt people. Perhaps Cody was more than willing to work around such directness, but the rest… If I wasn’t so on edge, I would have sighed and complained, but I knew that I was in the presence of the Boss’ supposed favorites. Based on what happened earlier with Toby and later with Brian, I could only assume that if they truly wanted, they could have killed me a long time ago. 

I shook my head. “Isn’t that one of the requirements when working under the Boss? Getting your memories erased for security purposes?”

Tim chuckled. The sound was actually a bit higher pitched than his normal speaking tone, but it was still relaxing to listen to. Whereas his voice immediately had me on edge because of how… normal he sounded, his laugh immediately put me at ease because like it or not, it was actually highly contagious. 

I found myself fighting to bite down a grin.

Considering that he was looking at me with a knowing look in his eyes, he must have known his effect on me.

“Not always, Ellie.” He patted the seat next to him and I obliged, careful not to be too close to him since I also got the impression that he liked his personal space. He must have been grateful for my consideration because he instantly relaxed and kicked his feet up on a nearby stool that I had nearby. “Brian and I… we actually remember a lot more than the newer recruits.”

I stared at him a little disbelievingly. 

Cody had always told me… Was his information wrong? Or was this exception only meant for the favored? 

My questions must have showed in my eyes because he smiled a little at me before his face hardened into a stern expression. 

“Brian and I have known each other since college and since then, we’ve been together through thick and thin.” He thought for a moment and then continued with a sardonic tone laced in his voice. “That means, we’ve also known about the Boss through some… unconventional circumstances.”

There was a lot more to those unconventional circumstances than what meant to the normal eye, I was assuming. Still, I didn’t press him for more details. Something told me that all would be revealed in due time. 

“The both of us remember a lot of our previous lives, but not a lot at the same time. The boss, he…” He paused for a moment, as if listening for something, possibly even waiting for something or someone to happen. It was then that I realized… 

Perhaps we were never as truly alone as we thought.

“I just wanted to let you know that this thing that the Boss has over us… It’s dark. Insidious. The rest of us may have accepted you, but this is only the beginning of your trials as a Proxy.” His dark brown eyes burned into mine as he leaned forward, not really paying attention to the wound at his side. 

I flailed on the inside, but I merely narrowed my eyes in suspicion at him.

“I was promised brief servitude for the Boss. Nothing was said about—”

He grasped both of my shoulders, his grasp on me so strong, I gasped not out of surprise, but because it hurt. 

Although his face was stern, I could see the semblance of sadness in his eyes. Whatever he was going to say… He knew that it was going to hurt me.

“Listen, the Boss doesn’t care about what you want or if you care about what he wants you to do. Simply put, your life is his life now. Yours is his for the taking. He doesn’t care because he’s never letting you go, especially now that you’ve passed whatever bullshit test Brian and Toby put you through today.”

“Y-you knew?”

Tim rolled his eyes.

“Why do you think I dragged my sorry ass up here?” He pointed at his side and then glared down at me. “Trust me, it takes a lot more than a stupid bullet wound to get me down. You saw the bandage, I could have easily taken care of myself.”

If that was the case then… 

“Why me? Why have a medic of all things if you can take care of yourselves?“

In a movement far too fast for my eyes to comprehend, he had me pinned against the couch, his face scant inches from mine. 

“Ellie, I’m not sure what shit the others in that other base have been telling you, but we don’t need a medic. We were actually doing quite fine and then the Boss… he wants something from you, I’m not sure what.”

“I—What would he want from me?”

“It’s simple.” His breath, warm and musky hit me on my lips and I tried to steady my breathing so that I wouldn’t exactly breathe him in. “He’s already taken it from you, but it’s meant to do something to us. To one of us .”

I filed away that last bit of information to be dissected later. 

Instead, I focused on the part that was meant to be about me.

“Do you mean… M-my memories? But if he already has them, then why?” Did the Boss want me to get them back? Was it dangerous or advantageous for me to have them at all? Or was Tim playing me, forcing me to live through what I could only assume was to be his delusions? I had only just met the man so anything could be possible. 

Cody was my rock and my foundation thus far… What would he have said in response to Tim’s information? 

Suddenly, Tim’s rough hands grasped me around my throat, pressing hard on my jugular and crushing my carotid artery. 

I could barely breathe. 

I could barely speak. 

What little training I had kicked in, but the Proxy above me was too strong. I scratched and I kicked at him, wheezed and screamed for mercy.

But none came.

It wasn’t until a dark spattering of stars and flashes appeared above my closing eyes did I hear his last whisper.

“Remember, Ellie. Remember and you might survive.”

.

.

.

“I didn’t mean to you know.”

I looked up and found myself staring at a young man with a slight accent to it that made me think of Cody. Huh… A Latino?

I stared at the young man in front of me, possibly around my own age, but… There was something off about him. I couldn’t say what.

“Who are you?” I asked with far more bravery than I felt. I glanced around, still nervous and anxious about who or what may be targeting me. Where was—

“Wright, Thomas, and Rogers aren’t here, Ellie.” He stepped forward, just a little bit into my personal space, but I immediately reared back. I… I knew him! But how? 

All I knew was that I didn’t want this man to be anywhere near me.

“Y-you know my name?”

He smiled, crooked and small, but it was still there.

“Forgotten me already, Ellie?” 

He placed a hand over the left side of his chest in what I can only assume was something he did out of contrition. For what, I didn’t know. And I didn’t want to know. 

I tried edging away from him, but his actions were too fast, his grip too tight.

“Hey, I’m David.”

Chapter Text

I want to say that name meant nothing to me. 

Yet, something in me roared to life. 

David.

David.

David.

For some odd reason, that name struck a chord within me. My brain became mushy, my hands sweaty, and there was this overwhelming feeling of… of fear and dread that rose up from the depths of my very soul. Tears began falling and I jerked away from him, away from his very presence. Such a visceral reaction should have been beyond me, but I was so overcome with such emotions, I didn’t know how to restrain myself.

There was this want—no, need—to preserve myself from this young man who kept creeping towards me, the smile on his face never growing smaller or wider. That stupid smile on his face never moved an inch. 

I tried my best to continue moving backwards, but something was holding me in place. There were no chains, no boundaries to be seen, but I couldn’t help but reach behind me, only to feel like there was some sort of… I don’t know how to call it, don’t know how to explain it, but there was definitely something there that kept me in place.

And then.

It started pushing me towards David. 

A yelp left my lips.

And then—

David leaned in close to my ear and breathed, warm breath chilling my skin. Despite my resolve, I shivered and tried to move back against the thing that was holding my back. Instead, it seemed that the more I struggled, the more I seemed to be pushed against David. When I finally realized that David was pressed against me, I could feel his body, could feel how… how cold he was, but what really caught my attention was—

I didn’t feel anything under the hand that was spread out against his chest. 

Distraught by what that could have meant, I immediately pressed my index and middle fingers against his carotid artery. His neck, while still fleshy and human, was cold and almost too malleable under my touch. 

“You’re dead.” I whispered. Looking up at him, I could see that his eyes had become almost closed, as if he was relishing in my closeness. At my sudden realization. “You’re dead,” I said again. 

Choking a little, I finally found myself released from whatever entity had held me captive and standing rooted to my spot and falling down to my knees. I hit the ground hard, only realizing that I was… I was in a playground. 

A jungle gym.

A merry go round.

A sandbox.

Swings.

High above, pale moonlight sifted through the leaves of the trees overhead. A sorrowful breeze blew through the area, ruffling my hair and caressing my cheek. When I happened to lay eyes on David, it was like he was frozen in a snapshot. 

Neither the moonlight or the breeze affected his figure.  

Bones creaking and flesh ripping unpleasantly, he bent down on one knee and caressed my cheek. 

“Well, you’re a lot smarter than I had given you credit for.”

His eyes, dark brown and cold, seemed to grow steely with resolve as his other hand wrapped his skeletal fingers against my throat. He immediately squeezed for a good five seconds before letting me go with a huff. 

“Then again, if you actually remembered me, you wouldn’t have gone running.”

“W-why?” I massaged the flesh of my neck, wincing at the sensation of pain blossoming against my skin. “And why am I not with—”

SMACK!

I fell back against the ground, curled into a ball as I tried to protect my aching stomach. Before I could whine out in pain, I felt the heel of his shoes against the side of my head, the pressure of which began to push him deeper, and DEEPER, AND DEEPER into my skull. 

I tried to push him off, but I only succeeded in having his shoe basically phase through my skull and to have the world’s worst pain greet me in the most horrible way possible. The only way that I could relieve such pain was to curl even tighter into a ball and to have my fingers tear at his leg in an attempt to rid myself of the sensation that was assaulting my head. 

Finally. 

FINALLY.

He stepped off—

—only to kick me in the face and then kick me in the ribs. 

At that point, the pain was so overwhelming, it took everything in me not to vomit out of sheer pain and shock. I kept my hands over my head, my knees close to my chest. I didn’t want to take any more chances. 

“Why?” I couldn’t help but gasp. “I don’t…” I coughed and then shuddered as the cough reverberated through my fallen, bloodied body. “I don’t even know you!”

David’s handsome face, ever upturned in a smile, leaned in close to my face. 

“Don’t worry, Ellie. Just have Wright knock you out again and you just might get more answers.” 

At that moment, his Latino features changed, darkened almost, before he dropped his smile. This was the first time he had done so. Before I could think a little more clearly, he pushed me flat on my back and began to kneel on my neck. 

At this point, I was already so far gone in the pain, this new added sensation was nothing more than the cherry on top of the proverbial cake. Or ice cream. 

As black stars winked in and out of existence in front of my eyes, I could feel his breath ghosting against my cheeks and then—

“You should hang out with that Rogers kid more. Ask him about his—”

“There’s a glass of water on your nightstand.”

Groaning, I opened my eyes and immediately wished I didn’t. 

Sunlight streamed in through my window, the curtains probably moved aside for my benefit. As my eyes wandered, I caught sight of Brian, mask snug on top of his head and his hoodie wrapped around his waist, sitting on the edge of my bed, a medical textbook in hand. I caught a glance of the title, Abnormal Psychology 17th Edition before he quickly shut it and placed it at his side, conveniently out of view. 

“Please don’t choke me,” I mumbled. “I’ve already been through a lot these past few…” I thought long and hard before realizing it had only been scarcely a day since I had arrived to become the Proxies’ supposed medic. Rubbing my eyes, I glared a little at Brian. “If you’re going to kill me, might as well do it now.”

Brian, the cheeky man he was, pointed at the glass of water. 

“What makes you think that I’m not trying to kill you via that glass of water?”

My fingers must have dug a little too deep into my blankets because my fingers were suddenly digging into the flesh of my palm, probably leaving light pink crescent moons behind. 

“Because,” I mumbled, “that would be too easy.”

Brain shrugged. “Fair point. I suppose after you finish that glass of water so you won’t end up croaking all day, I could just smash it on your head and then use the glass shards to stab your heart.” 

I stared at him for a good five seconds before realizing that I was probably taking things a bit too dramatically (having watched and helped my coworkers kill people, you kind of just get used to the idea of death), I took the water and took a sip. When I realized that there was nothing special about the water aside from the presence of tiny ice cubes, I greedily gulped the entire thing down. 

Satisfied, I placed the cup in my lap, making sure to rest it in between my hands.

“Planning on chucking that thing at me?”

“Maybe.”

Brian’s face became all the more smug underneath the sunlight, his handsome features becoming all the more attractive as he looked at me with… something in his eyes. I felt a prickle of apprehension creep up and down his spine. 

Was there going to be another test? Gosh, when was that going to end? 

I’ve been through what I can safely assume was somewhat like walking to Hell and back while both my legs were broken and my pelvis was shattered. Gory imagery, I know, but at that point, gore and insanity was all I had in my lot in life. 

“You know,” he began as he fell back against the covers of my bed, his broad shoulders seemingly taking up the expanse of my bed. In an attempt to retain my space, I moved my legs away from him, bringing them up close to me so that I sat cross-legged underneath the covers. “It would probably be best that you start attacking me now. The Boss told me and the rest of us that we should probably go easy on you…” 

My eyes narrowed. The fingers that were already clawing at the undersides of my palms relaxed, retracted, and then with a sudden resurgence that astounded even me, my nails met skin again. The pain…. I wasn’t one for pain, but something about it seemed precious to me, grounding. It helped me concentrate on the here and now, helped me realize that Brian, even if he looked like he was innocent and vulnerable right now… 

He simply wasn’t.

As the pain rose up and flared and dulled, I realized that although he faced the ceiling and his eyes were half-lidded, I got the feeling— no, I just knew —that he was looking straight through me, always making sure to be aware of what I was doing. What I was about to do.

Fine then.

If he thinks that I was planning on doing something, that I was going to… I don’t know, get the jump on him and then what? I wasn’t exactly a professional when it came to these woods that came with the Boss’s territory and I didn’t have the powers of a Proxy…. I glanced down at Brian.

If what Tim had been talking about yesterday was true then…

Then I wasn’t a Proxy yet. 

I let go of the hold that I had on the meat of my palms before asking, “Explain.” When I heard Brian suck in a laugh, I elaborated so that I wouldn’t have to listen to his seemingly airy laughter. “Everything.”

The tests.

The beatings that I had suffered in just a matter of a day—no. Days!

The cryptic words and looks that all of them would send.

And finally, that dream that was rapidly deteriorating in the back of my mind, dissipating like sand sifting down an hourglass. Everything was falling apart, but I knew one thing for sure.

That young man in my dream… He knew me and I knew him… 

And perhaps… It wouldn’t be far off to assume that the Proxies that I was living with knew him as well…

David… I wonder what his last name was and how he was connected to me. 

Much to my chagrin, Brian rolled over onto his side so that he was facing me. Were I any other girl or any person, really, who found themselves attracted to men like Brian, I would have probably found myself swooning or something. 

I don’t know. I don’t think I was ever the type to be some sort of romance-y type person or something like that. Then again, most of the people I surrounded myself with (the Proxies both here and that other place notwithstanding) probably weren’t the most inclined towards romance either. 

Cody, though, was an exception. He seemed like he would enjoy romancing a sweet young thing if he really wanted to. It was a shame that because of the Boss and his unwavering work ethic (read: obsession) with his viruses, he probably wouldn’t have the time to indulge in such a normal thing. 

Still, though, I found my back going rigid and my fingernails digging deep into my skin again. If I wasn’t careful, I knew that I would break through skin. At least, that was what my rational thoughts informed me, but I couldn’t stop myself from doing so. 

I was too human for all of this.

But I still wanted those answers. 

“Stop looking at me like that, Mr. Thomas, and just tell me what the hell is going on!” 

I… I don’t know what came over me. You can ask me seconds after my outburst and subsequent action and I would tell you the same thing decades later: I don’t know what happened. 

At first, I was seated cross-legged with my mug hidden in my lap while my fingers were busy trying to dig crescent shaped holes into my palms. The very next second, I was moving, anger and resentment coursing through my veins. 

I unclenched my fingers, grasped the handle of my mug, and aimed. 

In a split second, I could practically see the future flash in snippets in front of me. I could see the mug crashing down onto Brian’s smug face, could see rivulets of blood gushing out of the wound that I would inflict on him.

That I would keep inflicting on him as I would smash the mug up and down.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Over.

And.

Over.

Again.

And.

Again.

I could imagine his eyes widening in surprise, could feel himself recoiling before reaching up so that he could protect himself and to attack me. 

The me in my imagination did not care. Did not think.

Just acted out my most basic desires. 

And then—

Just when I was in the midst of motion—mug in hand, arm arcing downwards, his eyes… 

Closed and peaceful…

I must have hesitated—that’s the only explanation I could have ever afforded myself at that point—because his tanned hand ripped the mug out of my hand before using my arcing hand to flip me over onto the other side of the bed. Dazed, I didn’t know that my view of the world had changed, that my perspective had changed before his face hovered over mine. 

He cocked his head to side, as if masking the feral intent that I could feel emanating from his figure as he regarded me.

“How’d you know that I like my women feisty?” His lips widenced allowed his teeth to shine and glint underneath the growing power of the sun. Despite the homy interior of the room and the fact that he almost looked angelic as he crowded in around me, I knew that he was just as twisted and as monstrous as Natalie or Cody or even Kate on a bad day.

But here’s the thing: they weren’t the top dogs as Proxies. Far from it, actually. 

This man right here? 

He was basically the Boss’ right hand man if the Boss should ever deign to have such a position to exist in his realm and hierarchy of power. I… I don’t know what I was thinking. It hit me at that moment: this man had the power to kill me, but he hadn’t.

Now, that led to two options.

1. I was somewhat important and what Tim was saying was true. If I remembered the contents of my dream, perhaps that man was also speaking the truth. Therefore, I should expend more energy in retrieving my memories and figuring out what made me special, or at the very least, the reason why the Boss kept me around.

OR

1. I was simply a pawn in a game that I knew neither the players or the rules. All I knew if this was the case was that staying alive would be my only objective, memories and conspiracies running through my head be damned. 

So, what did that leave me?

To further deduce what the Proxies and the Boss wanted from me (or what had already been taken from me, in the Boss’ case), I would have to ask more questions.

Which means…

I would have to try and stay alive for now.

“Tim,” I muttered loudly under my breath. He looked startled at the name I had just uttered, but didn’t move from his position above me. It seemed that it took a lot to rattle him. That was fine. I could work with that. “Tim told me a little about your past… and a little about me.”

Brian looked down at me. For a moment, that smile of his that always seemed to linger on his face, be it visible in his eyes or clear as day on his mouth, seemed to evaporate. For a moment, it looked like I was looking at someone different than the person I had met only a day before. He looked…. Would it be cliche to say that he actually seemed human right now? 

Because—

Because I wanted to believe that all of this was a huge joke that was concocted by the universe and that I wasn’t some sort of game piece or a doll to be manhandled by forces out of my control and by men that were far too monstrous for their own good. 

In an all too familiar motion, one of his hands grasped the tender flesh of my neck. I simply closed my eyes and waited. Much to my surprise, his hand wandered from my neck and then began to trace the fullness of my cheeks before cupping the back of my head. At that point, I knew that I was probably no longer as close to death as I once was, so I opened my eyes. 

“You’re definitely not a liar.” His grip on the back of my head transferred to the locks on the back of my head. At that point, he squeezed and I winced, not even trying to cover up my weakness. At this point, I knew that Brian knew that I knew that he could see through my thin veneer of bravery. “And if you were, you would be terrible at it.” His hold relaxed. “Am I right?”

I shrugged. “You said it, not me.”

“So I did.” Slowly, Brian shifted away from me so that his back graced the headboard while I sat up, noting that aside from the aches and pains from before, nothing new was added. It looked like Brian also wasn’t a liar. He kept his word and he did go easy on me for now. 

“Are you going to keep secrets from me?”

“Secrets are part of the trade, Ellie, but…” He pursed his lips as if contemplating what to tell me before he graced me with a loose lipped smile. “Tim’s a bit of a liar, so you shouldn’t believe him right away. That said, I don’t know what he told you. So,” his cheshire-like grin expanded further so that the corners of his lips nearly touched the tips of his ears, “I can’t verify unless you tell me.”

“And how do I know that you aren’t lying either?”

Brian shrugged and brought both arms up so that he could lean his head against them. Looking like that, utterly relaxed, he looked almost too much at home in my bed. 

“Isn’t that the fun in life? Not knowing what to expect? I mean, you can always ask Tobes for verification, but you’ll always face the same question: can we be trusted?”

I sighed. I wanted answers, not philosophical discussions on the human psyche and how far these men would lie to cover up whatever lie they had. 

“College buds, loss of memories, regaining of memories, working under the Boss for so long…” My voice trailed off as I finished the recitation of the shorthand version of what he had told me. Then, I remembered, “And he said… He said that I must have been important to one of you.”

And then, Brian frowned. 

“He said that, huh?” 

“Yeah, and then he squeezed my neck until I went unconscious.”

“Could be worse,” Brian added sagely. “He could have had a knife and he would have rammed it in your neck multiple times.”

At my horrified, but petulant glance, he added, “Old college friend of ours. Deserved it, though.”

“So, what was true?”

Brian looked out the window at that moment, his eyes going soft as he saw the sun climb higher in the sky. For a moment, I could only watch, entranced, as I saw him relax against the headboard before he finally looked again at me, considering. At the last possible moment, when I knew that the fraying ends of my patience was slowly snapping, he said—

“I never agreed to tell you the truth about anything.”

For a moment, my mind went numb. 

“WHAT?” I tried to launch myself at him, tears filling my eyes because I was so frustrated at that point and you know what, I was willing to die for my cause, fulfilled or not, but he held me fast by raising my arms in the air. His playfulness was back and I was so damn sorry to see it back again. 

“You can’t just tease me like that and literally leave me hanging!”

Brian chuckled softly. “You’re just going to have to wait until your memories come back or until…” He paused mid sentence. This time, I got the feeling that he was listening for something, but what? Or who? 

Was it the Boss? 

“Well, until someone decides to open up to you.”

Who?

“Open up to me,” I spat at him. I struggled in his grasp until I succeeded in finally wriggling outside of his grasp (but maybe that might have been due to the fact that he allowed me that one freedom). Glaring up at him, I asked, “Is it David? Is that who’s going to tell me what’s going on? Because he definitely was up to giving more answers until I was rudely woken—”

He shushed me, his face blank.

“You remember David?”

Chapter Text

Scrubbing dishes while angry was a therapeutic treatment that many have not considered to be a cure for anger problems, but I found that it initially worked for me. After having woken up and that brief altercation with Brian, I was basically left with little to no answers, but with a newfound sense of purpose. For now, I was going to play medic when needed, but I was sure to remain vigilant and continue hounding them for answers when I knew they were at their most amenable. 

So far, I knew that Brian had a wealth of information in that brain of his, but he was unpredictable. Tim, while somewhat more forthcoming than Brian, was still prone to acts of violence. (All of them were, and Proxies in general, but I was somewhat limited in what I could do at that point). Therefore, unless I could find this David person again my dreams or somehow contact the Boss without ending up face first knocking on Death’s door, I would have to ask—

“You’ve been washing that dish for ten minutes now.” 

CLANG.

The clatter of the plate falling into the sink, suds and all, pulled me out of my thoughts as if an eighteen-wheeler deemed me an appropriate target for crashing. As I pressed my palms against the side of the sink to ground myself back to reality, Toby guffawed, as if this was the most hilarious thing he had ever seen all day. 

“You know how much money that plate cost?” He waggled his fingers in front of me, completely unaware of the nasty glare that I could only pray was burning a hole through that stupid head of his. “Come on, Ells! Take a guess!” 

If this were any other person, I would have said that his grin was charming. If it were any more aesthetically pleasing, I would say that it almost made up for the fact that I could have broken a plate in my haste to get away from his annoying voice. However, Toby Rogers was definitely not just any other person.

But.

He also was closest to the key that held my answers.

Blood boiling, I pasted on an unsure smile on my face and muttered, “I don’t know, ten dollars?” The plate didn’t look particularly expensive…

“Nada!” He whistled twice and he snapped his fingers at me, finger guns and fake bullets ricocheting in the air between us. “Stole ‘em right off a guy in the boonies.”

Huh. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but stealing was clearly not something that wasn’t too far off from the guys’ agenda. Silently, I went back to my work, ready to reabsorb myself into the steady, rhythmic motion of scrubbing a sponge against the smooth surface of stolen plates. 

I guess that would explain the reason why the plates were so mismatched. Some of them were floral themed while others were plain or had more worn sides than others. 

A warm hand grasped my shoulder and suddenly, I had the sudden urge to curl in on myself. Power emanated from that simple gesture, something that told me to bow down and submit to him. There was something faintly familiar , but I didn’t know how or why it seemed so. For a moment, I was reminded of the events that happened yesterday…

He had done so much to me… And for what? 

If they didn’t want me to be a medic, they could have just killed me then and there. 

It was still frustrating to think about, so I opted to keep my breathing low and stable—hard as that might have been.

He whistled again, two sharp notes followed by one long drawn out note that seemed lower and somber than the previous tones. I had to wonder, did his tics signal his moods? Or were they as unpredictable and uncontrollable as winds during a tempest?

“Come on, Ells—”

“Ellie.” He had no right to be so friendly with me. I don’t care that he was under the contract of some demonic entity and could easily backhand me into oblivion. I didn’t care that he had basically taught me all that I had to know about him yesterday. He was someone not to be trusted and I couldn’t possibly do anything in my power because I was so weak compared to the three. “Just call me Ellie.”

Not even Cody had ventured to call me Ells. 

It sounded… childish and frankly, something meant for someone who was close to me. Like a really good friend.

Cody came to mind, but again, I probably wouldn’t ever see him again, so what was the point in thinking of him again? 

Toby breathed in a sigh through his nose and the grasp on his shoulder twitched. Thinking that he was about to squeeze and probably bruise the skin there too, I immediately placed the plate that I was finally rinsing onto the counter before finally facing him. 

A bit too late, I noticed that if he really wanted, he could cage me against him with the counter at my back and him at my front. Was that his intention all along? 

I leaned back against the cold, unforgiving edge of the counter and looked up at him, nonplussed at the fact that there was a gigantic bandage covering one side of his face and what little I could see of the rest was stretched up in a lazy grin. His eyes, though… They were dark brown and relatively calm.

No, that wasn’t the right emotion there. 

They lacked emotion. Almost as if was waiting for me to react or do something so that he could finally have something glimmer or darken his eyes. You know, I would have imagined his eyes to be more playful, kind maybe. I know the events of yesterday still colored my perceptions of him today, but there was something that niggled at the back of my mind. 

And what had Tim said yesterday?

And for that matter, David was hinting at something as well… 

Toby… 

What was it about this man? 

“Fine then, Ellie.” My grip on the counter tightened and I knew that if I were to look, my knuckles would have been stark white against the tan of my skin. “Brian told me about this morning.” His dark brown eyes bore down mine. There was something there. Something that told me that if I were to reach out, to ask for it, whatever I was asking for would have been given to me. 

Perhaps. 

“Care to share?”

Wrath, like burning fire and active magma, filled my head and exploded out my mouth. Without hesitation, without even a hint of thinking, I just spoke my mind.

It was about time I did something about this situation. 

“Besides the fact that you guys are jerks hellbent on making my life here a living hell?” I brought my arm back and palm facing forward, I pushed him against his chest. Hard. Much to my satisfaction, he staggered back a step, but that must have been purely because he was caught off guard and not because I was strong. “I've only been here a day and already, I’ve been beaten up, taunted with memories that I’ve been trying to remember, and I’ve had to patch someone up and then he had the audacity to choke me to sleep!”

Toby shrugged. “At least he put you to bed, right? He didn’t just let you hang out on the couch.”

“What are you getting at? Did he do something—”

He nodded a bit too eagerly. 

Wait.

“What?”

Toby moved to my side, releasing me from whatever cage that he had entrapped my body. Mirroring my position, he leaned against the counter and grasped the edge with his own hands. 

“What we did…” He muttered deeply to himself. “Well, I wouldn’t say that it was right, but, well…” He shrugged his shoulders before glancing down at me, his eyes pensive for once and his body calm for once. “Sorry, am I making sense?”

“Not at all. You might want to explain yourself.”

“Look, Tim and Brian aren’t really as sadistic or as cruel as you think they are. They actually did the same to me when I first joined, actually!” He bit out laughter as he brought his hand back and scratched the back of his neck. At my confused expression, he nodded seriously. “It’s not like we want you to die on your first go around, but if you did, rest assured your body won’t go to waste!”

I did not want to know what he meant by that. 

Due to my unwilling silence, he continued. “Brian and Tim? They went through a lot and well… I joined not long after them when their scars from whatever they went through before they became full fledged Proxies. And well, what you went through was like a thousandth of what they did to me. Those two…” Toby chuckled to himself as he shook his head in what I could only describe as exasperated fondness. “They’re obsessed with memories and trying to figure out who we were before…” He gestured to both of us. “You know.”

I swallowed all of this before I pushed off the counter and began putting away the plates onto a drying rack. Behind me, I could see that Toby was eyeing my movements. I was almost flattered; maybe he was either thinking I was a threat or maybe he wanted a response.

But really, what could I say? 

Did he want me to accept his half-baked, not even an apology response? If so, he was going to try harder. I went through a lot more of this over the past few years with the other set of Proxies. While not as cruel, I had definitely toughened up: yesterday was just jarring and did little to transition me to the new base. 

That’s all.

I was not weak. 

“Ellie.” I happened to glance up at him as I lay the final plate within its chosen spot. His face was trained up towards the ceiling so that I couldn’t quite see the expression on his face. Was there remorse? I couldn’t tell. His voice was pleading, but not in a way that I could assume that he meant it. Still, I listened. “What would you do if I told you that I knew you in the last few days before you agreed to the contract?”

My heart stopped.

That couldn’t be right.

How coincidental would it be for him to know me? For him to be a Proxy and I, a simple human? The only time Proxies became close to humans was when they were supposed to eliminate targets. 

What did this mean? For me?

I whirled on him, a detached sort of anger brimming to the surface as I regarded him. “Who’d you kill then? Was it supposed to be me?” I swallowed, the sort of detachment I was trying to maintain started to crack as guilt flooded through my mouth and made my throat become as dry as cotton. “Was it supposed to be someone else?”

He quirked a brow at my reaction. 

How long had it been since he had felt true human fear? For that matter, how long since he had known human emotion? Under the Boss’ reign, everything that pertained to how humans interacted with one another and how they used to be was gone. 

Gone with the memories that he always took as a down payment for our loyalty. 

“Someone else. But—” He amended carefully. “It was someone you didn’t know that well. Tim, Brian, and I… we were supposed to pick up a new recruit.” He scratched the back of his head. “If I remember correctly, it was a girl? Rodriguez said that she was a bit of an ice queen, but when I found her, she was catatonic or in a state similar to that.” He looked at me closely, as if concerned for my well being as I tried my utmost not to take one of the plates and start flinging some of them at him. 

“A-and?” I took a long, shuddering breath before forcing myself to face him. “What did you do to her?”

“The girl was too weak. The instant she saw Brian coming, she took a gun to her head and—” He mimed an explosion to the head. He caught sight of the sick expression on my face, the look of disappointment on his own countenance deepening. “You know that this is part of our contract. We merely do just as we are commanded.” He rolled his eyes when I stiffened and backed away from him, as something as trivial as extra space could save me. “Cody and the others said you were soft, but I could have sworn that you should have been better trained than this.”

“That was before you started filling my head with things that I can barely believe. And for the things that sound somewhat credible, I have no idea if you’re trying to twist my head, as if this were some kind of new test.”

Toby nodded. Slowly. 

“Understandable. Well, it’s all up to you if you want to believe me or not. Given that we’re your only sources of company and information… You’ll have to choose wisely. Can I continue?”

Shucks. Either I listen and regain what I hoped to be my memories or I get tricked into some sort of mind game. For a bunch of people whose specialty was in killing others, they were somewhat well trained in the art of mental espionage. 

I nodded.

Might as well see what I can get out of this.

“Rodriguez… David as you probably know him.” My breath hitched. Was that the same David that had been in my dreams? The David that had Brian looking at me in shock before he began chuckling under his breath? “He was a failed Proxy. The only reason Boss kept him alive for so long was because David was loyal and he was willing to throw any and all those who had caught the sickness or had trespassed onto the Boss’ territory under the bus. Perhaps it was because of his cruelty or maybe it was because the Boss thought he saw potential in Rodriguez.” 

Toby’s brown eyes haunted me.

“Were it not for our intervention, Rodriguez would have used you as the final bargaining tool to become a Proxy.”

“How would you know that,” I whispered.

He tapped the side of his head. “Once you get hit with the sickness and overcome it, you know what it feels like to be at the end of your rope, to want to break free and to end everything. Rodriguez was only a hair from snapping when he met you… If Brian and I hadn’t met you when we had, we would have killed you on sight when Rodriguez brought you as a sacrifice. At that point, at the very end, any and all the things that he would do for the Boss was bad news. He was a diseased dog needing to be put down.”

His voice… It was so cold, so matter of fact. He didn’t think of David as being human. What did that mean for him? A person who pledged his life to a faceless being and killed without remorse or for regard for those closest to the victims? 

But that wasn’t the question that was bothering me.

No.

What did that make me? Since the beginning, I had been complacent because of my lack of memories. The faint residue of morals and what little Cody had taught me told me that killing was wrong. That following an eldritch abomination without question was a foolish thing to do. Why hadn’t I tried to think of my memories? 

Why didn’t I think to ask more questions about my past? 

Now that I was faced with a wealth of information, I didn’t know what to do with it all. 

Furthermore, what were the Proxies expecting me to do with this information? Did they think that I was going to run away? That I was going to try and reclaim the life that I had left behind? 

No, I was important somehow. 

They needed me.

“So what now?” I asked. “You knew me. Brian knew me. This David person and the girl he was trying to sacrifice knew me. I have no memories other than what you’ve told me. You could be a liar.”

“Yes, I have lied in the past,” Toby mused. “And you can choose to disbelieve me now, but I can prove to you that I did know you.”

“Really.”

“I can at least try.”

I looked away, not willing to look him in the eyes now. 

“But where does that leave me? You guys are giving me this information and for what? There’s nothing that I can do except try to remember, but I have nothing. Nothing!” I tore at my hair, not even the pain forcing me to stop myself from hurting more. “There’s nothing in here, Toby! So why try?”

He smiled down at me and moved so fast, I couldn’t comprehend him closing the space between us until he was right in front of me. 

“Because, Origami Girl, you knew me way back when… And I believe it’s not a coincidence that the Boss brought us together again.”

Again? I… I didn’t know how to feel about that. 

I furrowed my brows. “But didn’t you say that you knew me a few—”

He shushed me. 

“Knew me way back… In my before , not yours…”

“I…” 

Suddenly, his back straightened and the part of his face that he hadn’t bandaged widened in a broad grin. He took me by the hand, not at all minding the glare or my protests as he led me away from the kitchen.

“Hey! At least let me clean the sink!”

He looked behind himself, his brows furrowed in confusion and bemusement.

“But didn’t you finish the plates?”

I refused the urge to smack the flat of my palm against my head. Geeze, he was such a teenage boy…

“You’re supposed to clean the sink and the surrounding areas as well,” I admonished. “Do I need to teach you how to maintain household appliances while I attend to your medical needs?”

He thought for a second before nodding. 

“Yup! Right after you get to see this thing I have.”

“Great.”

Up the stairs we walked. His feet were far more heavier and his sneakers clunked up the steps as if we were the only occupants of the house. If memory serves correctly, before Brian had left, he had told me that Tim was going on a solo mission while Brian was left behind to do… stuff. 

Finally, we reached the top of the stairs and without further ado, we turned towards Toby’s assigned room. Like mine, the door was somewhat discrete and wooden. The knob of the door looked more worn. Used. Almost beaten. Almost as if he used the strength of a Proxy to open it… 

“It’s not much, but…” Toby opened the door to his room and I found that my jaw had dropped before I shut it with a slight click of my teeth. Inside, there was a bed, a desk, and at that desk was a shelf filled with books. I looked at him, back to the shelf, and back at him.

A whistle. A click. Another whistle. “Don’t look at me like that,” he muttered. 

Was he embarrassed? Something about a Proxy being embarrassed… It just tickled me in all the right places. I couldn’t help the chortle of laughter that left my mouth. Without waiting for an invitation, I bounded inside and stroked my fingers over the series of novels, comic books, and—

“I didn’t take you for an anime sort of guy.”

A sigh. “You’re such a plebe. That—” He pointed at the colorful book that was in my hand, a picture of a man with a sword in Japanese clothing posing on top of the cover. “—is called a manga and I would be utterly ashamed if a friend of mine called it an anime instead of its rightful name.”  

“You treat all your friends like punching bags, then?”

His lips pursed and I could hear a sharp whistle pierce the suddenly still air. “Only the ones with memories that have yet to be unlocked.”

“Oh? And what about you? Tim told me that you don’t remember everything either.”

Toby moved to his desk and began to rifle through the contents of one of the drawers there. Though his voice was purposely low, I heard everything. 

“I don’t remember everything, but I remember… A girl…girls, really. One of them was my older sister, I think. Lyra.” That name… struck a chord within me and I didn’t know why. Before I could ponder that thought further, he continued. “And you… When I first met you after I had become a Proxy, I began to remember things, but not everything.” 

He looked at me. 

“If I make you remember, then you can help me as well and then…”

“What,” I couldn’t help but whisper back. “What do you plan on doing after that? What’s your grand scheme?”

Toby finally returned to my side, his hands cradling something fragile in his hands. I tried to peer into his hands, but he hid it within his hoodie pockets. 

“Have you ever thought about breaking your contract?” His voice was so soft, like the gentle caress of a leaf brushing your cheek in autumn. Before I could fully process what he had said, he opened his palm and I saw an origami crane that was crafted from notebook paper, tiny squiggles and diagrams imprinted on the horizontal lines.

Huh, used notebook paper. 

“How do you break—”

He brought a finger to my lips, hushing me.

Right, walls have ears and the Boss probably had plenty.

“Open it.”

“The crane?” Dubious, I looked to him in confirmation only to find that he was nodding down at me. His eyes were unreadable. With shaking hands, I unfolded the crane until the paper lay flat, yet crumpled, within the palm of my hand. 

Chemical equations.

Colors for blood collection tubes. 

A doodle here and there.

They were—

This was—

“Mine,” I whispered. My hand shook as tears gathered in my eyes and I ghosted my fingers over the indents of my essence spread all over the page. “This is my handwriting, my notes. How?”

Toby nodded back at me, his lips curling in a small, but genuine smile.

Perhaps the softest and genuine smile that I had seen from him thus far. 

“You named all your origami cranes the same name.”

Together, we breathed, “Theodore.”

Chapter Text

My cheeks flushed as we uttered the same name aloud. I didn’t know what to expect or how to react. Very few, and I mean very few people knew that I liked playing around with my hands and fewer still knew that Theodore just had a wonderful ring to it. I don’t know, origami cranes were special to me—and it wasn’t because of that age old story about one thousand paper cranes and wishes. But seeing Toby…

It got me thinking…

“Did I… did I teach you origami?” Or was it the other way around? Before I could ponder if he looked like the type to have the patience to teach someone how to fold animals from paper, he shook his head.

“Nah. We talked a few times and sometimes, I would catch you making origami animals even though you should have been working.” My expression of disbelief must have clouded my features because he barked out a sharp note of laughter that was accompanied with an especially piercing high note of a whistle before adding, “You were a cashier working the graveyard shift at some crappy convenience story.” He canted his head to the side. “Though, you did sell some good knock off chips.”

“And I just…” I held up the hastily folded animal in my hands and stared at my handwriting, which seemed to mock me under the fading afternoon light. “Was I a college student when I met you? These notes… They remind me of…” 

They reminded me of Cody’s cramped handwriting whenever he was recording specific procedures. 

Actually, his handwriting was a lot like mine, now that I could study my writing better. Small, cramped. Utterly indecipherable to many unless you were one of the few to be intimately familiar with the written script. My fingers traced over the indentations where I must have pressed down on the paper too hard and then traced a few scribbles here and there…

To the horizontal lines…

Hmm, cheap notebook paper. Did I have more notebooks like these?

Toby’s low voice broke me out of my reverie as he plopped onto his bed and collapsed onto the covers. He probably didn’t see me as a threat seeing that he closed his eyes and let his arms spread out all over the bed. 

Such a gracious host. 

“I think you were part of some medical course? You definitely had the experience, but you didn’t look particularly fond of it.”

Interesting. 

“Is there anything else you can tell me?” I didn’t want to sound too eager, but I was already peering above him, eager to catch a glance of him looking knowingly into my eyes. I needed to know who I was, what I had been before aiding criminals in their dirty work. 

Just who was Ellie before the contract? 

Who was I? 

Toby pondered a moment before adding, “You liked to read books. Sometimes… I would catch you reading a novel.” He scrunched up his nose. “Every time I visited to buy something or bother you, you would have another book resting on the counter or on your lap. I swear, you practically inhaled the series in like… a week.”

My fingers brushed against the bookshelf, catching some of the titles that happened to be interesting enough to catch my eye. Did the past Ellie look at bookshelves and wonder which to choose from? Did she read manga like Toby did? Or did she only read fictional novels? How fast could she read? 

I wanted to talk to her, to meet her.

It’s strange because I was her, but at the same time, I wasn’t. 

Suddenly, I felt a hand grasp my wrist and pull me towards the bed.

“Hey!” Affronted, I pulled my wrist back, but not before my face became smooshed against the plushness of the bedcovers. I sat up straight and tried to roll off the bed, but his grip on my wrist held fast. Knowing that I was going to go nowhere with that kind of attitude, I glared at him. “At the very least warn me!”

“I could… but that would be too easy. Besides—” He fell back against the covers, arms spread and his feet planted against the floor. He turned his head so that his eyes faced mine. “—you looked uncomfortable standing up for so long, I decided to be nice and let you sit for once.”

I pointed at his desk.

He rolled his eyes before facing the ceiling again. “You would have a point there, but this is my room so what I say goes. Capisce?”

“Whatever.” I faced forward, not wanting to look at Toby for too long. Despite the circumstances, I found that his company… It wasn’t exactly comforting, per se, but it was definitely more welcoming than Brian’s or Tim’s at the present moment. It was like seeing an old friend again, but knowing that your interests and theirs had differed along with the paths that you had taken in the course of your life. 

Speaking of…

“Were we…” I tugged at the hem of my sleeves, not really wanting to know, but still desiring it all the same. “Were we friends? Or were you that one weird customer that I happened to teach origami?”

“Why not both?”

I hissed through my teeth before flopping on the bed, almost similar to him except for the spread out arms. In another life, I would have probably been mortified that I was acting so familiarly with a man that I had just met, but I was tired. Some answers were given to me, but the sources were unreliable as of yet. However, there were more questions that plagued my mind—questions that I didn’t want to know, but needed.

“Hey, Toby…”

I could feel him shift over the covers, and could practically feel his warm gaze upon my face as I struggled to count the cracks that were gathering like cobwebs on the ceiling. 

“Yeah, Ellie?” 

For a moment, my breath still and my eyes closed. I could… 

I could practically see something dancing on the edges of my eyelids. It was a young boy? A young girl as well? And they were… they were smiling at me…

I shook my head.

Focus.

“Why do you want me to get my memories back so badly?” I turned to him, true curiosity glimmering in my eyes.  “I know you want to…” 

I waved my hands in a general gesture, already knowing that I couldn’t speak of treason so easily. Breaking a contract? I’ve never heard of anyone trying to do that and for good reason. I bet the Boss would happily make their life a living hell or he would torture them for eternity. “But seriously, what’s the point? You might as well make use of what you have right now.”

Toby paused, as if thinking for the very first time this golden afternoon. 

“Because… Lyra needs me.” 

That name again. It sent a shiver down my spine while simultaneously filling me with warmth. If what he said was true, that there was a chance that I knew him before his own before , then that meant… That meant that I knew this Lyra person as well. The probability wasn’t as high as he might have thought (after all, what were the odds that I knew the both of them? She could have been a random girl for all I knew and Toby hadn’t thought of elaborating his relationship with her either), but it was… fascinating to know that there were hidden connections between us.

It felt like fate.

Planned.

I bit my lip.

Then again, what if this was the Boss’ plan all along? His will was unpredictable. Inhuman. The Boss’ concept of humanity was far different and far more alien than the thinking that I was accustomed to. Who knows, he might have already known that Toby was harboring thoughts of breaking the contract. 

I shook my head. Focus.

“Who’s Lyra?” Again, that warmth encompassed me, welcomed me in like a long, overdue hug. The name felt sweet on my tongue, as if there were tiny crystals of sugar melting on my tastebuds. It was pleasant and it gave me a heady feeling. “An old friend?”

Toby brought his arms close to his chest, his hand clutching the material of his hoodie near his heart. He looked… pained. But happy all the same.

“No, something more than that. She was important to me—that’s all I can remember.” He turned to me, his eyes dead serious and his voice as calm and static as a peaceful pond. “You were—are—important to me as well.”

I looked away. My cheeks burned and my hands reflexively fisted my clothing at my sides. 

“Was that a come on?” I muttered weakly. When I received no answer, I saw that he had his eyes closed as if he were in sleep. However, there was a slight smile on his lips that was gently colored with a faint dusting of red. 

Hmph. 

Figures.

“Fine.” I sat up and adjusted myself so that I was sitting cross-legged while facing his prone form. “I’ll help you, but I have one condition.”

Toby, as fast as lightning, sat up and faced me. His eyes were concerned, but filled with determination.

“Name it,” he commanded me. 

I blanched at his tone, but kept my voice steady.

“I want you to take me as well.”

His eyes widened as he thought it over. 

And then—

He held out a hand.

And silently, on impulse, I grasped his wrist, to which he reciprocated with no argument.

As we held our wrists together underneath the fading afternoon sunlight, I couldn’t help but feel how right this was. His wrist, warm and pulsing against my sensitive skin. His eyes held my own with a silent challenge for me to look away. And that smile on his face, faint but present all the same. 

It was tinged with mischief and relief.

To know that he was probably harboring some sort of unease about all of this calmed me. 

I returned his expression with my own and in silent agreement, we parted. 

It had been weeks since my last assignment to the human world, months since I’ve actually ventured inside of a town. Usually, the Boss’ victims were those who had crossed him, who had decided to research his existence. Eventually, most of his victims fell victim to his particular brand of sickness.

Nightmares.

Paranoia. 

Hallucinations.

And so on. 

Most of the time, his victims were usually men and women who wandered too deep into his territory. Others were people who had come into contact with those who already had the sickness.

But what was worse were the children.

Some children would somehow contract the sickness without their knowing it, would exhibit symptoms for years without diagnosis, and there were only one of two ways their life would play out. Once the Boss took hold of you, you were either his or no one’s.

Either the child either died of their own volition or due to extenuating circumstances (usually young and within the throes of the sickness).

Or—

The child would be recruited into the Boss’ realm, eager to serve and to behold him, unless the Boss wanted them dead.

Either way, there was no happy ending.

Anyway, the town that Toby and I were investigating was your stereotypical small town, tight knit community kind of thing. Surrounded by forests and people who eyed strangers with a critical eye, it wouldn’t be surprising to find one or two people here who were afflicted with the mark of the Boss’ sickness. 

As we walked through the town, I took note of a few brand stores and others that were more locally based. We were about to turn a block that would lead down to some sort of religious place—a church, I think Toby told me—when I found myself staring at a store situated on a corner. 

Although the store looked like any up and down the block, I was drawn to it for some odd reason. Breaking away from Toby’s idle chatter and his long strides, I approached the shop and peeked inside the window. 

There were shelves stocked with off brand chips while to the side, there were a row of freezers filled with all sorts of booze and other beverages. If I gazed at the freezers longer, I knew that I would find a few buckets of ice cream. 

Soon, my gaze was drawn to the cash register and I saw a relatively young man, probably a few years older than me. I watched as he thumbed through something on his phone. Knowing that the shop looked pretty dead, I had the feeling that he was playing a game or something. 

“Looks like your memories are back, huh?”

I turned around to see that Toby was looking cheekily down at me. 

“What do you mean? I’m just looking around and—”

His hand fell heavy atop my head and I couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth and safety erupt from that simple point of contact. I couldn’t believe it. After he had nearly killed me the other day and now—!

He pointed a finger to his lips and I shut up.

“You used to work here and that guy over there?” He nodded his head towards the young African American man who was still ignoring us and thumbing through his phone. “That was your coworker.”

“Well, that settles everything then. Let’s go in and—”

He shook his head. In his eyes, there was a look of warning that told me to stand down. Knowing that he was stronger than me, had more authority due to his seniority and authorization, I recanted. I stepped away from the lights of the store so that it would appear that I had no intention of stepping inside. 

“At the very least,” I mumbled, “can you tell me his name.”

His heavy hand resting on the top of my shoulder told me more than what I needed to know. 

Together, silently, we passed through more streets and various stores. It was nearing the late afternoon, the sunlight was shifting from an already light orange to the darkening shades of rust. Nevertheless, we kept to the sides of the buildings, our steps confident and unhurried. Nearby passers by did little to us—as if we barely existed at all. 

Finally, once I looked up at a certain point, I saw the steeple of the local church and the white lettering of its name. It was named after a saint.

This was it.

Toby was going to show me something that would help me jog my memory. At least, that’s what he claimed it did. 

Memory, I recalled him saying, was a strange thing. 

It could be retrieved by the strangest of stimuli. It wasn’t an exact science, Toby had said, and he had advised me to talk to Brian about it. 

Once upon a time, the man had been majoring in psychology. 

Tim and Brian must have been triggered by something in their past to have them retain their memory whereas something happened to Toby while visiting this specific town. It must have been the church to have triggered the release of memories, but I never figured him to be a religious person. 

That is, until, I realized that we had bypassed the entrance entirely and began walking towards what appeared to be a cemetery. The gasp that left my mouth was completely involuntary, but I tried my best not to sound too loud. Unfortunately, Toby heard me anyway, which rewarded me with a smirk that quickly vanished once we fully stepped onto the grounds. 

It was cold and quiet. Like the realm under the Boss’ reign, the air was stiff and unrelenting in its oppressive atmosphere. Perhaps it was a reaction that had been built upon spending countless time living with bated breath whenever tall, looking trees were close. Nevertheless, Toby guided me, his hand loose around my bicep. 

Together, we traversed the area, our gazed forward and our steps rhythmic but slow. Despite how well maintained the overall landscape looked, I noticed that we were the only human inhabitants in the area. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a few cars that were parked in the main lot near the church. I shrugged that off, though. Perhaps there was an evening service. 

Like two well seasoned predators, we made a beeline towards one of the graves. I made sure to keep a respectful distance from Toby. He confessed that his tics had eased over the years, but there were times when his emotions overcame him. Surprise, surprise, he could be a little bit violent at times.

He assured me that he could control his emotions better considering that he visited this place numerous times in the past whenever he had a break from missions, but the threat of getting attacked kept me from hovering too close to him. I trusted him, sure, but that didn’t mean I wanted to completely submit to the idea of being his victim. Furthermore…

Furthermore, I had a feeling that this person he was visiting…

Lyra…

This was personal—a concept that I knew, once upon a time, but had ultimately lost when I had agreed to the contract. Sometimes, I wondered. What would it have been like if I hadn’t agreed. Would I have died? 

It seemed that was the only way to get the contracts in the first place.

I had to be leaning up against Death’s door, probably at my wit’s end and pondering the urge to knock.

Finally, after a brief moment of contemplation, I noticed that Toby was motioning over to a certain headstone. He had knelt down, his gaze facing forward. 

The graveyard, while quiet and peaceful, still held an air of something that was just about to happen. I didn’t know what, but I didn’t want to stay here longer than what was probably necessary. A quick glance also convinced me that it was time to add in some light so that I could better observe the headstone. 

I reached into the pocket of my sweat jacket and pulled out a penlight. When I had busied myself with reorganizing my supplies, I realized that I had somehow taken (stolen) one of Cody’s penlights. Although I felt guilty, I was still somewhat thankful that I had it. 

I had something tangible that he must have given me once upon a time. 

If I was lucky, maybe we would meet again.

I clicked it and immediately, a low light emitted from the small bulb. While not as useful as a normal flashlight, it was enough that I could peer at the stone in great detail. It was also useful in that it offered enough light for the both of us, but not enough as a beacon for nosy churchgoers to investigate. 

“That seems handy,” Toby mused as I settled onto the ground next to him. 

Ignoring how the dewy grass began to soak a little through my jeans, I steadied the penlight onto my destination.

Ah.

Lyra Rogers.

Beloved daughter, sister, and angel.

A birthdate and death date.

That was all. 

There was… 

“Well?” Toby’s voice interrupted the slew of thoughts that were assaulting your head, each thought becoming more and more pronounced and erratic. “Come on, please tell me that you remember something!”

Why… Why did he sound so desperate?

How close to Lyra was I before everything?

And was I—

Did I know Toby from before?

The longer I stared at the carved stone, the more I realized something that was insanely crucial.

I didn’t want to admit it to Toby, but I had no choice.

Here, there was nothing for me. 

Lyra must have been important to me at one point, if Toby’s words held any merit, but no longer.

She wasn’t important enough to me that she would jog my memories. 

Chapter Text

“I…” I didn’t know what to say. I picked at the grass that lay at the foot of Lyra’s headstone. Was it disrespectful? I had no idea, but I kept on pulling at the greenery for something to occupy my hands while I tried to puzzle out the deluge of thoughts that were trying to invade my head. “Toby?”

The penlight wavered in my hand. 

Toby’s hand encircled my wrist, steadying it as he studied me. He must have sensed my hesitation, because he gently sighed and took the penlight from my hands so that my hands could both busy themselves with the grass.

“Hey, you good?” Even though his words were kind, I could still feel the undercurrent of frustration in his voice. He knew. And I failed him. “It was… it was a long shot.”

I swallowed. Hard.

“Why… Be honest, why did you think that my memories could be retrieved?” What was she to me? What are you to me? 

The gravity of the situation was only now catching up to me. 

If this was my only lead into getting my memories back, it was quite telling how this reveal that nothing had changed had impressed upon me. Had I blown my chance? Was this the only way to get my memories back? Was I forever going to deal with the consequences of my contract? 

I didn’t want to think about it.

But I had to ask.

He breathed out low, a sound that made it seem as if he was letting off steam. I was thankful for it. It meant that he was working through his emotions just like I was—that deep down inside, even though he was a Proxy, he was still somewhat human like me. 

It seems that humanity hasn’t left him yet.

“A few days after meeting you in that convenience store… I saw you making paper roses on her grave. I was so surprised that I didn’t say anything, but I knew… I knew that she was important to you… Like she was important to me.” 

Who was Lyra? 

Who was Toby?

And, most importantly, who was I?

For a moment, the both of us knelt at the foot of the grave. Toby had long since liked the penlight off so we were bathed in the light that the moon was willing to shed for us. Despite the silence being almost too out of character for Toby, he seemed relaxed. Like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

I wondered why, but decided to ask him later. 

Instead, I decided to stretch my legs, possibly walk around and leave Toby to pay his respects. It was quite obvious now that they were siblings. I wondered how that detail could have possibly slipped my mind. 

“Do you need this?” 

I waved away his concern. The lights from within the church that managed to spill over from the stained glass windows to the cemetery was more than enough to help me make out where I could place my feet without tripping. It wasn’t enough to distinguish small details, but I wanted to observe and exercise a bit. 

My footsteps, while not as soft as the older Proxies, were still sufficiently softer than most humans’. Kate had been adamant that I learned how to walk properly. It had taken weeks—or was it months?—until I managed to work my way around my weaknesses. When Natalie figured out that I could actually traverse the forest without making too much noise, she had challenged me to a ‘friendly’ game of hide and seek.

I lost. 

Anyway, I made a few laps around the perimeter. Most of the headstones were pretty nondescript, stereotypical things that one would often see in church graveyards. There were a few massive crosses, busts of angels, and there were a plethora of religious imagery. As I neared the wall of the church, I heard the sound of an organ rising in volume and intensity accompanied by the sound of people singing in solemnity. 

I didn’t want to make assumptions, but I had a feeling that Toby and I had spent more than enough time at the graveyard. 

Carefully, I made my way back to Lyra’s grave. There, Toby had resorted to standing, his head bowed. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew that he must have been contemplating something. Perhaps he was thinking of other ways to help me. Or maybe he didn’t care. 

I… I didn’t know. 

Still, he was my only way back to safely get back to the Boss’ realm. Even if I wanted to run, there was no way that I could survive in the outside world. I could try, but that didn’t mean that I would be any good at it. 

For now, survival meant going back to work. 

“The mass,” I began a little uncertainly. How did one act when your coworker was looking down at his sibling’s headstone? Before I could further contemplate how to best handle the situation, Toby turned to me.

Even under the pale moonlight, I could see that his face held a gentle, if strained smile. True, his mask covered up his scarred smile, but his eyes were crunched up at the side and his cheeks seemed to be lifted. He hummed a little under his breath; his body, for once, was still and unmoving. Only the rise and fall of his chest in a smooth motion gave way to the fact that he was still human underneath his mask. 

“Have I ever told you that you worry too much?”

“Maybe. Why do you ask?” 

“Because…” He tapped the tip of my nose with his pointer finger, the smile that was surely on his face seemingly growing wider, but all the more genuine. “You always have that look that makes me think that your brain is about to have a meltdown. Your eyes get all small-like, you start adjusting your glasses, and your posture suffers.”

I felt my breath hitch in my throat. He either spent more time with me than what he had insinuated in past conversations, or he was very observant. Given that he was a skilled Proxy, perhaps that was the case. 

Either way, it warmed my heart. 

Did he care? 

Maybe not, but it was nice to maintain a new friendship. 

I laughed a bit to ease the tension in my shoulders, but didn’t look away from his gaze. 

“Yeah, I just have a feeling that we should get a move on before people start filing out of the church.”

He shook his head at me, his eyes becoming somewhat fond. 

“Again, you think too much. It’s been a while since we’ve both been here and even then, it’s not like people will just go into the cemetery so late.” He shrugged. “And if they do? We’re nobodies for all intents and purposes. We’ll be fine.”

I nodded, more to myself than to assent in his words. 

He was right. There was no need to hurry, no need to think about outing ourselves to the people (few as they were) inside the church. I sighed and started down at Lyra’s stone. Carefully, I traced the carving on the stone, my touch as light as possible. As I did so, I could feel Toby’s gaze following my actions. 

What was he thinking?

“Just a few more minutes?” I ventured to ask. 

Toby nodded.

“Walk with me?” At my confused expression, the Proxy ruffled my hair and took my wrist in hand. It felt warm, all encompassing. Safe. Familiar. “I’ve never been inside the church. And—”

At that moment, the sound of people chattering amongst themselves and the rhythmic clatter of heels and soles slapping upon the pavement made its way to the both of us. For a moment, I basked in the moment. It sounded so… normal. Pleasant, even. 

Standing tall, I watched as at least a dozen or so individuals walked out. Some of them continued onto the streets, presumably to their houses. Others traversed the parking lot and climbed into the respective cars. Only one person, an older woman, bypassed the rest of the crowd and made her way towards the cemetery. 

I must have stiffened because Toby’s hand gently squeezed my wrist. 

“Don’t worry about her,” he murmured. “She’s probably here to mourn.”

That’s right. Embarrassment heated my cheeks and in defense, I turned my head away. It was useless, considering that he wouldn’t be able to see the blush on my face. With that action, he could all but deduce that I was somewhat abashed. 

Of course she came to mourn! We were in a cemetery. She just walked out of a church service. Maybe she had recently lost someone. Maybe the loss had time to heal and scar over. Whatever the case, she wouldn’t care about two other people who happened to be in the same place as her.

My worry lessened.

And just as abruptly, it heightened again. 

She meandered up and down the aisles of the cemetery, never looking at them, just walking past. I had thought that she was just making the rounds, but something… something felt off. 

Not off as something bad. Rather, something was shifting in my bones, spitting static in my ear. 

The way that woman moved, her apparel. The moon was practically my only light source, but I could detect bone deep weariness and something aged… like her youth had been robbed from her. She was…

She was familiar. 

At my side, Toby’s hand slid down from my wrist only to entangle his fingers within my own. I paid that action no heed. 

Closer.

Closer.

The woman was coming closer.

And with that closeness, I noticed that the static in my ears wasn’t something that I felt, but rather heard in my head. It was like I was within the Boss’ presence again. But how?

Step.

By. 

Step.

She came closer. 

Toby’s hold became all the more apparent.

And the static just. Kept. Getting. Louder. And. Louder. 

And then…

“Did you know her? My little girl, did you know her?”

I glanced up and caught the warm, green eyed gaze of—

The static screeched one, long note. It pierced my brain and struck an arrow into my heart. 

“M-Mrs. Rogers?”

The static overtook me and everything was no more.

When I awoke, it was the low lighting that came from the lamp that rests on the stand next to my bed. For a moment, I lay there, eyes closed and my heart still somewhat slow and peaceful from the sleep that I had indulged in. However, the longer I lay awake, the more I realized that there was something missing. Like… the sleep that I had gotten wasn’t something that I had taken willingly.

Rather, it felt like it had been forced upon me. 

What had happened? 

“Are you going to go back to sleep? Please don’t, I really want to talk to you.” 

My eyes shot open and I twisted my body to my bedside, somewhat surprised that Toby was there. He was dressed in casual clothing, not suitable for weathering the outdoors, but they weren’t clothing one would associate with going to bed either. He had taken off his mask, allowing it to dangle from his neck alongside his signature goggles. He sat on a spare chair, a graphic novel hanging loosely from his fingertips.

Mustering up the voice to speak, I asked, “Did something happen?”

Toby raised a brow, obviously concerned over my well being. Despite that, however, I could see that there was a stiff line of his shoulders—tension. There must have been something off. Quickly, I tried to run through my memories of what had happened before falling unconscious.

There was a cemetery.

There was a church service.

And…

Static.

But, before that… There was a woman. 

Older than me, but kind. She was—

I shot up from the bed, my eyes going wide with a mixture of excitement and dread. Just as suddenly as I had sat up, Toby placed a hand on top of my shoulder, effectively stopping me from acting reckless. Although I was thankful that I hadn’t made a fool of myself, I still scowled at him. 

“Connie!” I brought a hand up and grasped his wrist, eager to rip it away from my shoulder. I didn’t know what I was trying to accomplish, but the brunet held firm, so I had no choice but to elaborate. “The lady from the church. Where is she?”

Toby’s eyes furrowed.

“You know her?” 

His eyes were troubled and his breathing, I noticed, seemed shaky. Uneven. However, I paid no attention to such details. Instead, I nodded enthusiastically.

That woman.

She was—

“I was traveling from somewhere,” I recalled softly. The details were there, I knew that, but it was hard to sift through information that had gotten dusty when I hadn’t actively remembered them when under the Boss’ influence. I can remember, but I couldn’t remember at the same time. It was like trying to read a newspaper after it had been drenched in spilled coffee—I could just barely make out a few words, but for the most part, everything began to blur and bleed into each other. “I don’t know where, but I returned to come back to that town… My childhood home?” I questioned more to myself than to Toby. 

Meanwhile, Toby’s hand released my shoulder only to float down to my wrist where he began to rub lazy circles into the bones of my wrist. It was comforting. That sense of familiarity jostled my memories so that some of them came into clear focus. I didn’t know why, but I let it be. 

Words began pouring out of my mouth without my express permission, but that didn’t matter. Now was not the time for needless censorship.

“She was… a teacher? No… something closer,” I muttered to myself. I rubbed my eyes, now fully aware that I was addressing Toby without my glasses. I swiped at my stand, but came up with nothing. Gasping, I thought that I must have lost it before I was interrupted by a pair of hands obscuring my vision. 

Suddenly, my vision adjusted and it was no longer pixelated.

He chuckled warmly. 

“I was wondering when you would notice.” His cheeky smile widened further when I adjusted my glasses so that it rested comfortably over the bridge of my nose. “I’ve never seen you without glasses before.”

“So… Do I look better with or without my glasses?” I was hoping to stump him with that question. It was a fruitless quest to make him just as flustered as I was at times, but I could be hopeful at times. Unfortunately, that stupid smirk of his grew to the point where I wondered if stretching the healed scar on the left side of his cheek could hurt. 

“Ellie, you look wonderful no matter what you wear or don’t wear.”

That.

That was so—

I whipped my glasses off so that I could focus on cleaning the dust and fingerprints off of the lenses instead of looking at his mischievous expression.

“Right! Back on topic!” 

Ignoring Toby’s little whine of disappointment, I placed my glasses back onto my face and continued. 

“I think she was my tutor… When I returned, I remembered her… She was telling me….” The static was coming back and it did little to comfort me. The sense of anxiety and doom overwhelmed my senses; I could do nothing but rest my forehead into the precious cage of my soft hands. 

It wasn’t until I felt Toby pulling me into his arms that I realized that I was crying. 

He hummed something under his breath before saying, “Ssshhhh… Don’t push it. I remember a lot more than what I’m used to, but even I don’t know every single detail of my past life either… Don’t beat yourself about it. Everything in its own time.”

I nodded.

Within the warmth of his embrace, I felt somewhat tired. It was as if my little foray into the den of memories was a strenuous activity even though I had just woken up. It was surreal. 

Toby sensed this because he patted my head gently and told me to rest. 

Then I dreamed.

I found myself in a strange place. Not a bad sort of strange, but a strange that tickled me like a friend who knew all of my weak spots and was exploiting them for fun. It was a strange that was familiar and called to me, embracing me in the atmosphere of something that I once knew. 

As I looked around, I gathered that I must have been in a two story house. It was a quaint thing, almost like those stereotypical hours I would find in the movies. 

Behind me, a door remained closed, but I could tell that it was unlocked. I was free to leave if I so desired.

But I wanted to stay.

Carefully, I walked through the foyer and began my track up the stairs. I saw that they were carpeted and out of respect for such decor, I unlaced my sneakers and peeled them off my feet. I kept them on hand just in case I needed to run as I ascended the stairs. 

There were pictures that covered the walls of the stairwell. They were portraits of a family of four members: a mother, a father, a daughter, and a son. Some of them were taken when the family was still young, the children looking happier while the parents looked so close. 

However, as I continued to climb, I realized that the children’s eyes began to look dimmer, tired. The father figure, I noticed, looked more standoffish while the mother looked melancholy, her smile becoming more and more forced as time went by. It wasn’t until I reached the final steps of the staircase did I notice that there was a large space void of any pictures. It was as if the family planned a few more portraits, but weren’t able to do so. 

I shuddered to think of what happened. 

Carefully, as I finally reached the second floor, I began to peek through the doors. At my immediate right, I noticed that the door was ajar. A quick perusal told me that this was the master bedroom with an attached master bath. It was all right, I suppose. The decor wasn’t something that I could say appealed to me; in fact, it was downright boring. 

I stepped up towards the second bedroom and turned the knob. 

It was… It was a girl’s room if the muted colors of pastels and white trim had anything to say for it. The bed was fluffy with gigantic pillows arranged near the headboard. They were a variety of colors, some of them not even matching the rest of the bedroom. 

My eyes scanned the rest of the room. Nearest the window, I spotted a bookcase filled with trinkets (most notably, a camera) at the top few shelves with several books stacked on the bottommost shelves. If I looked closely, I could see that there was a scrapbook peeking out as if the owner had stuffed it back onto the shelf before doing something else.

A desk sat across from the bed. It was a wooden thing with a handful of pens and stationery scattered about. A feeling of nostalgia swept over me. Whoever this person was, she was probably a creative person, very artistic. However, I thought as I began to pile the stationery into neat, color coded piles, she was a bit messy.

So focused on my task, I didn’t notice anything amiss until—

“Lyra left out all of her best papers on her desk because she knew that you would take out some of the best ones when organizing them so that you could make origami animals out of them.”

I whirled around, some of the papers scattering to the ground as I did so. 

There, in front of me…

It was the lady from the church. 

Connie Rogers. 

Like the woman from the pictures that decorated the walls of the stairs, she had brown hair and a warm set of green eyes. However, that’s where the similarities ended. Wrinkles and creases lined her face, aging her appearance. Her body, once filled out and firm, had become bony, almost skeletal. 

If I were to hug her, she looked like she would immediately give way to my superior weight and strength. 

But the major difference was within her eyes. The pictures below did little to capture her brightness. From what I’ve seen, her eyes were always strained, sad. Almost as if she was making a Herculean effort to appear happy for the camera’s sake. 

But now…

She looked utterly overjoyed to see me.

“C-Connie,” I whispered. Slowly, I stepped towards her, hand outstretched. 

This scenario didn’t make sense, but I didn’t care. I was remembering! She was from my past! I needed to embrace her, to tell her that I knew her! 

Steady, steadier than I thought that she was capable, her bony, veined hands clasped mine. Her hands were dry, but they were warm and like a child, I was comforted. 

“Ellie, my dear sweet Ellie… Why is it that you immediately call me by name when it’s a dream?”

My eyes watered, but I withheld the moisture in my eyes as best I could as I laughed.

“You’re… you’re ruining the moment, Connie!” 

Her eyes twinkled merrily as one of her hands that she wasn’t grasping my hand with came up to my cheeks and began rubbing them. Shoot, I didn’t realize that my efforts to not cry had been overwritten by sheer emotional distress. 

“If this were real life,” Connie quipped in a cheeky manner that I could only know could come from her, “I would most definitely be doing more to ruin the moment. As it were, however, I think it’s fair to say that I’m holding back for your sake.”

I simply smiled and launched myself at her frame, my head nestling into the crook of her neck and shoulder. Despite knowing that this was a dream—probably built from my memories and based on past interactions that I was only just now remembering—she smelled like a bakery with a hint of pine. 

“You don’t have to,” I mumbled, voice somewhat muffled by her skin.

Connie wordlessly pulled me even closer to her, her arms winding their way tight around my frame.

“Ellie… this moment isn’t going to last long.”

“I know! Let me keep hugging you.”

“My dearest, Ellie, I can’t.”

I leaned back, fear flooding through my veins. 

“What… what do you—”

Her eyes were sad, but the firm line of her mouth held no give.

“I’m only just a fraction of your memories… If you are to break your contract, we need to trace the reason why you were chosen in the first place.”

Chapter Text

I stared at her, my mouth open due to disbelief. 

“Careful, dear, you’re going to catch a few flies.”

Closing my mouth, I asked, “How are you going to do that?”

She tugged me close to her again—I had no choice but to be pulled into her body. It was at that moment when I began to feel something gliding up and down my arms, as if I was being covered in molasses or sticky syrup. I tried to break free from her grasp, but quickly found that the more I struggled, the more she clung tighter. And tighter.

And tighter.

And tighter.

Soon, despite this being a dream that I was experiencing, I found myself gasping for breath. Breathing became all the more harder. My focus and concentration, the way I was thinking, became more muddled. 

My eyesight blurred and my hands were useless against her strong grip. 

Soon, I blacked out and fell limp against her arms. 

And I sank…

… to the floor. 

Only, I found myself being jerked in an upright position by some unseen force. Startled by such an action, I quickly opened my eyes and found myself confused. I was… I was somewhere, but not in a place that I was wholly familiar with. 

I was in a grassy area that was outlined by a series of trees. It looked like some kind of park reserve? In this area, there were an array of picnic tables, a parking lot that held only three cars, and a sign board that bore a map of what I could only assume was of the location that I was currently in. 

Intrigued by my surroundings, I slowly stood up on tottering legs and headed towards the map. The map was worn, almost illegible. I traced a finger over the glass that protected the map from decay and found that it came away grimy and dusty. With a sigh, I wiped my finger down the leg of my jeans and found that my attention was captured once more. 

This time, I caught sight of a few flyers that were taped on the glass. A few looked to be new, at least a few days old if the creasing was to be any indication while the others… were weathered and barely held together under the tape. I cast my eyes over these flyers and found my heart stuttering to a halt when I realized that there was something the flyers all had in common. 

Missing persons.

One by one, my eyes flew by the names that jutted out in black, bolded lettering. 

David Atkinson, aged eight. 

Mary Hollinger, aged eleven. 

Theresa Mendez, aged seven.

Philippe Thomason, aged thirteen. 

The names continued and the flyers continued to mount. My eyes helplessly scanned the flyers, trying not to panic at the bright smiles of young children of various families who looked at me as if I could be the one to help them. 

What had taken them away? 

Why had they disappeared?

I… I didn’t want to admit it.

But I knew. 

As I continued to pore over the flyers, I felt a presence at my side. Somewhat still shell shocked by the array of innocence being dragged away from their families, I was slow to react. However, that didn’t stop the hairs on my neck to stand on end and for my breathing to quicken in panic. 

Without turning my head, I glanced at my peripherals.

I shouldn’t have. 

There was a girl with dark brown hair, almost black, done up in pigtails. She was about five years old and she barely came up to my thigh. She was looking at the board with a scrutinizing expression, her eyes scrunched up behind a pair of very familiar eyeglasses. 

The frames of her glasses were a light lavender hue, the color light enough to almost look white, but with enough tinge in color to allow the viewer to know that it was a derivative of purple. The frames were small and thin—childish and easily breakable, I couldn’t help but think. Near the area where the frames would bend upon use, I saw a flower design covered in cheap rhinestones.

If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that the little girl had gone through my old belongings from when I was a child and had stolen my glasses. Kneeling down, I was about to ask the little girl how pretty her glasses looked when she startled and glanced over her shoulder. 

Stunned by such a reaction, I reached out and was about to tap her on the shoulder, but my finger passed through her flesh. 

Confused, I withdrew my hand hastily, almost as if I had spilled one of Cody’s chemicals on myself. 

“What?”