Truth

Two days later, Tristan was making his way to an underground grunge scene to meet the blogger who posited his theories about the explosion in the shopping district. His casual clothing totally in stark contrast to the costumes worn at the scene.

He finally found the person he was looking for. Bill, a huge guy with half rotten teeth and decrepit beard, chugging beer like it was water.

"You are the one who contacted? What do you want to know?" Bill asked with a smile.

"Does paranormal really exist?" Tristan asked.

"I don't know kid. But i do believe the government is hiding something. I hear things around here and there that make believe it probably does." Bill said. "Why are you so interested in this shopping district event?"

"I was one of the victims. If there is something really going on, I need to know." Tristan said with determination in his eyes.

Bill turned serious for a bit when he heard Tristan was a victim. He sighed. "Kid, I don't want to mislead you, I don't know if there really was any paranormal involved in your situation. But I know a guy who could help you. He is my usual source for these murmurs, it was he who mentioned the incident as being suspicious to me offhandedly."

Tristan walked out of the underground tavern and made his way through some of the underbelly of town before he came to a narrow winding street. The entire street was filled with bizarre and tiny shops for bizarre books, mediums, gemstones, and the like. It was as if all the fraudsters had gathered together to form a street of shops.

Walking through the tiny winding street, Tristan finally stopped at a store with a very narrow opening, Jack's Tattoo Parlor. The titular Jack was the contact that Bill had suggested Tristan should contact. It was now night and the shop was dimly lit. Tristan entered and knocked for a response and a thin, bony, pale man adorned with several tattoos, walked out. He was surprised to see a plain looking boy here.

"Are you looking to etch a tattoo?" Jack asked with uncertainty, his voice having a slight shrillness to it.

"I...was sent here by Bill." Tristan said. "He said you could help me."

"Bill? That Drunken Bastard? What help do you need from me?" Jack said, clearly unhappy.

"Shopping District explosion... you seem to know what really happened there?" Tristan asked cautiously.

"Why do you care whether I know or not? Are you from the government? huh?" Jack said with clear hostility in his voice.

"I was one of the victims... and I have been having nightmares about it ever since. I really need to know what happened and if the paranormal is real, what is going on...if you know... I beg you, I'll pay you for the information." Tristan sighed.

When Jack heard that he too sighed. "Nightmares huh... So the memory wipe failed on you..." Jack beckoned Tristan inside his shop and closed the shutters.

"I am like you." Jack lit up a cigarette, sitting down on a seat opposite Tristan. "I was a victim in an incident, the memory wipe failed on me and I've had a few mental scars ever since."

Tristan raised his eyes. "You too... Are there many others like us? Why did the memory wipe fail?"

Jack dragged in a breath of smoke. "There aren't many of us. Memory wiping usually works quite well on most people, very rarely situations like ours happen." Jack looked up. "Who knows why the memory wipe failed, I'm not an expert on magic."

"...Magic?"

"Hmm, Magic indeed." Jack nodded. "This world... there are two sides to it. One is the upper ordinary layer, your normal world and the other is an onion underneath. There is a evil fantasy world hidden beneath this veneer of an ordinary world "

"Fantasy world?"

"Yes. Paranormal or Fantasy, whatever you call it. Magical creatures, Beasts, Monsters, Demons, Ghosts, all kinds of things hide beneath the surface. They hide in this underworld of shadows. The governments of the world and powerful people are all in cahoots to hide this from ordinary mortals, for exposure would derail society itself." Jack went silent for a few minutes while Tristan didn't respond, overwhelmed by information.

"These incidents, like the one in the shopping district as usually collateral damage from skirmishes of this hidden underworld." Jack said. "That is the basic truth of this world. We ordinary people are simply cannon fodder."

Tristan closed his eyes. "How did you learn all this?"

"It took me decades to even find out this much. I searched long and hard and found a teacher who taught me how to inscribe some basic charms and spells as tattoos. I work in the underground as a tattoo artist, I print one time use spells like enhanced healing, protection or increased speed. I would get customers who participate in this hidden society from whom I would collect information." Jack smoked. "Every shop on this street is involved with the hidden world one way or another

"Once you are exposed into this world, you have three choices. Forget it all and act like normal, remain in the periphery working as I do, or dig deeper. If you dare dig deeper, be prepared, because your chances of surviving would be low."

Tristan clenched his fists. "The memory of that incident... that woman... is burned within my memory. I cannot be as powerless, act like nothing happened. I want to learn more... I have to. It is impossible for me to act like everything is fine."

Jack simply nodded, his expression one of sadness, but also understanding. "Ok, I'll help you out. It's too late now. Come back tomorrow, I'll introduce you to the fraudster Medium."