1 Volume 1 Chapter 1: Pilot

Written by: Akosiibarra

Translated by: cassa_white.rabbit

It took some hours before I successfully reached Pampanga. Because of the heavy traffic in EDSA and the extremely slow pace of the cars, it would almost convince people that forever exist no matter how you bitterly say otherwise*. It was by chance that an accident occurred in Cubao so the traffic was prolonged even more.

It was almost five in the afternoon when we reached the province. On our way to Angeles City, there was a slightly heavy traffic in McArthur Highway, but still better compared to the traffic in Manila. The first thing that I noticed in this environment is there are almost no tall buildings that appeared to be reaching to the heavens.

The car stopped in front of three-floored apartment complex.

The driver helped me collect my luggage from the trunk and placed it beside the dark colored gate.

"Thank you," I told him.

"You're welcome, ma'am," he replied with a strained smile. The drive took some hours so I'm sure the driver was also tired, especially since we were stuck in the traffic for so long. "Please take care,"

He got on the car and drove off. For sure, it'll take him until late night to reach Manila because of the long drive. I hope he won't get stuck in the traffic this time.

Seconds after I pressed the doorbell, the gate opened and revealed a woman with shoulder-length hair and wrinkled forehead, perhaps due to aging. Her name was Martha Henson, my aunt who owned this apartment that I'll be living-in in the following months.

"Oh, Lorelei! I've been waiting for you!" She hugged me tightly that I almost couldn't breathe and then touched her cheeks to mine. "How's the journey? Did your father drive you here?"

I smiled at her inquiry. It was as if she doesn't know what kind of person father is. He didn't even find time to see me off because he's a little 'busy'.

"He had a meeting earlier so he couldn't accompany me. He even wanted to see you," I lied.

Dad didn't say anything like that.

"Come, I'll show you where you'll stay. I cleaned the room that you'll be staying in,"

I carried my one of my luggage bags while she carried the other one. She let me in first before she got in and locked the gate.

The apartment complex that Aunt Martha is renting seems to be a slightly bigger, maybe about ten units. And for sure, the rent is higher than normal because the place is near the university. Majority of the people renting the apartment are students, especially those students are from distant areas who doesn't want to commute every day.

"Is it okay if you have someone else living with you in the unit?" she turned to me with slightly knitted brows. "All the units here are already occupied. Only unit has a vacant room,"

"Is the other person a female?"

She looked at me hesitantly, as if debating if she'll answer me before opening the door to the apartment. "Male,"

I swallowed my saliva. I don't have a problem with a roommate . . . as long as they aren't male.

"I know you have an issue against males but this one's different," She probably noticed the uneasiness on my face so she tried to explain. "And you have different rooms. You'll only see each other in the living room and the kitchen. If you want, we can install three or four locks on your room,"

Men are all the same. When they find a weakness, they'll take advantage of it. They're like natural predators looking for prey in the dense forest.

"How is my roommate different?"

Aunt Martha went ahead of the stairs and walked carefully.

"He's as quiet as a rock when he's with someone. He doesn't talk unless necessary. Mysterious, as if he's in his own world. And he's not that fond of girls. The other day, I asked him if he has a girlfriend and he answered, he doesn't have time for that sort of stupidity,"

"Then, is he gay?"

She laughed softly at my serious question. "No, he doesn't have any interest in males, either. He just appears to have no interest in people. He's been here for two years but not once did I see him bring a friend or even a classmate,"

"But he did have others who roomed with him before?"

"Yes, there were others who rented the place and roomed with him but after one or two months, they suddenly left. According to them, there's a ghost that keeps on bothering them at night. When they use the bathroom, they feel a pair of eyes staring at them from the window. When in their room, they hear someone calling their name,"

Creepy. So Aunt Martha actually rents out a unit straight out a horror film. Good for my aunt that the man didn't leave the unit because if it was me, I would've hastily packed my things and left before ghosts start to visit me in my dreams.

"Don't worry, according to your roommate, there's no ghost," Aunt Martha assured me when she noticed my expression. "He said, perhaps they were just hallucinating or oversensitive that they kept seeing things. He hasn't seen or even felt anything paranormal yet,"

Is it really alright to feel assured with what Aunt Martha said and that guy's testimony?

It wasn't long when we reached the third floor and stood in front of the Room 302.  Aunt Martha knocked before opening the door with her key.

The unit wasn't small nor was it big for a student, it was just right and it seems that it's also well-furnished. Upon entering one will see two couches facing each other with a small wooden table in the living room. In the small kitchen area were a circular table surrounded by three mono-block chairs. There's also the ^gas stove and water dispenser by the kitchen sink. On the right side of the apartment were two closed doors – the bedrooms, perhaps?  There's a slightly open door at the back which might be the comfort room.

But what caught my attention was a male student sprawled out on the floor and seems to be trying to complete a huge jigsaw puzzle. The pieces were scattered all around him and what's weird was that those puzzle pieces have no design or color. They were just … blank.

"Excuse me, Loki?" Aunt Martha forced out a cough to get his attention.

What an odd choice of name, by the way. He'd been named after the Norse god of mischief.

"I'd like you to meet your new roommate,"

He stood up, faced us and eyed me head-to-heels. I did the same to him.

The first thing I noticed from Loki is his hair that that almost covered his eyes with its length. It seemed like he was trying to hide his jet black, lackluster eyes from everyone's sight. He has a lean face, obvious cheekbones.

I waved and introduced myself. "Hi, I'm Lorelei Rios. Pleased to meet you,"

"Loki Mendez," he replied with a cheerless voice. "Sorry, I'm in the middle of solving a puzzle here so do you mind not disturbing me for another 5 minutes?"

He went back to his original position that we found him in and focused his attention on the jigsaw puzzle.

Great. What a cold reception. And I will be sharing this unit with this guy for a couple of months. At first, I thought that Aunt Martha's description was exaggerated.

My aunt and I looked at each other and she shrugged. She must be used to this Loki's cold reception when introduced to his past roommates.

"Anyways, your room will be the second one," Aunt Martha led the way to my room.

While walking to my room, I noticed a post-it note stuck on the flat screen TV. There were numbers written on it which resembled codes or trigonometric equations. There's also a dartboard on the wall with a photo of a guy skewered by darts.

If that Loki person put those there, he's really weird …also a bit mysterious.

Aunt Martha put my bag on top of my bed and gave me the key. "Make sure you lock your room when you sleep. I trust your roommate not to do anything wrong while you're here. If you need me, I'll be at Room 102,"

"Thank you, aunt," I gave her a hug that lasted for some seconds. She also embraced me warmly, and it felt like my mother was also hugging me.

"I hope your father visits to check on you," she told me after we parted. "I sure he's missing her only daughter,"

After Aunt Martha came out of my room, I couldn't help but smile. It wasn't the usual broad, genuine smile, but a wry smile. Even if I left our house in Manila or not, it won't make a pennyworth difference to my father.

It was past six in the evening when I finished arranging my clothes in the closet. I changed my jeans into knee length pants and went out the room carrying my MacBook. I sat on the vacant couch. That Loki guy already completed the jigsaw puzzle and was sitting on the opposite couch reading a book titled And Then There Were None.

I wanted to watch on the TV but because of the post-it notes on the TV screen, I gave up the idea. It might be for some assignment in school, so it won't be good to touch those or my roommate might get upset.

Instead, I logged-in on my Facebook account and checked my inbox. A number of my classmates – former classmates – from my high school in Manila private messaged me. While I was checking them one by one, Loki stood up and passed behind me to go to the bathroom.

Most of the messages from my classmates were asking how I was and asking where I transferred. I closed the messages without replying to them. They'll surely notice I've seen their messages. Even on my phone, they are also messaging me but like what I did on Facebook, I didn't reply to any of them.

I'm not angry at them. I just don't want to have any more connection to the past because I wanted to forget everything that happened before.

For me to move on, I guess I have to cut ties with the past.

The hours passed by but Loki and I still didn't talk to each other. Like what Aunt Martha said, he won't talk unless necessary. He's either busy figuring out puzzles or reading books. Looks like he really doesn't want to get to know who he's living with.

The same situation went on the next day. When I woke up, I greeted him good morning but he didn't reply. He's still reading and he's still on the same position where I last saw him before I went to bed last night. Wait, did this guy even sleep or did he spend the whole night reading?

In the afternoon, I, again, sat on the couch. And Loki? He was writing some numbers on a paper, seems like he's solving a mathematical problem. While I was watching some funny cat videos on YouTube, I kept glancing on what he was doing.

And then, a miracle happened.

"You kept on looking at me. Either you have a couple of questions or you just want to start a conversation with me,"

It was the first time he talked to me. Looks like Aunt Martha put something on the dish that she sent us earlier at noon that caused this guy to speak.

I looked up to see if he's talking to someone on his phone because he might not be talking to me but someone else. When I was sure that there's no one and that he was really talking to me, I shut my laptop and faced him.

"I'm thinking, as roommates, we should know a little about each other since we'll be staying with each other for a few months on the same apartment," I told him. "Aside from our names, we really don't know anything about each other,"

He stopped writing and turned to my direction. "Oh, I disagree,"

I slightly narrowed my eyes while studying his reaction. "Excuse me?"

"I know that you're from Manila and that it was you're decision to transfer here in Pampanga," he explained, returning to writing numbers on his paper and didn't look at me again. "It's also probable that you'll be attending the same school that I go to,"

"Aunt Martha told you that?"

"Nope," He said. "I deduced it based on how you were dressed yesterday. Compared to people in the province, people from Manila have a more sophisticated fashion sense. How about school? Most, if not all, tenants here attend the same high school which is Clark High School. Of course, the deduction relies on a probability, not on absolute certainty,"

My mouth hung slightly open while listening to his quick explanation. So that's why yesterday his eyes scanned me from head to toe like an X-ray. He tried to read a bit about me based from my appearance.

Just as when I thought he was done, he continued, "But that's not all. If my deduction is correct, you're running away from something, from your past maybe? That's why you came here to seek refuge and solace,"

I swallowed and blinked at him. There's no way for him to know something about my problems or my past. After exchanging names, I didn't even speak with him. Is it possible that Aunt Martha told him about me?

"You're mistaken. The landlady didn't tell me about you," he said as if reading my mind. "And even if she did, I probably wasn't listening,"

"If that is so then, how did you know that I'm running away from something?"

"Simple," he stopped writing again and fixed his posture. "You were ignoring your friends' messages on Facebook and probably on your phone as well. Disconnecting yourself from people in your past is an indication that you're trying to escape, if not forget about something,"

"And how did you know that they messaged me on Facebook?"

"When you're checking your inbox yesterday and earlier, I passed behind you and saw how you ignored their messages," he explained, gesturing at my laptop. "They were showing concern about your wellbeing and yet, you chose to ignore them,"

Not only did he glance but he also read my messages. Where is his respect for my privacy?

"A new question emerged: What are you trying to escape from?" I wanted to cut him off but he spoke like a machine gun, not giving me a chance to speak. "Something must have happened in your former school in Manila. You were probably involved in a big issue or scandal that's why you decided to transfer here,"

I gripped my knee as I listened to him.

"The mystery now is why would you transfer here in the province? Judging from your MacBook and iPhone, your family is quite well-off. You can afford to study anywhere in Manila. Why not attend those prestigious universities? Perhaps the incident you're involved in is too serious that you needed to stay somewhere far – like here – until it dies down and won't bother you anymore. Staying in the vicinity might trigger a memory,"

I couldn't help looking away. Does this guy come from a family of shamans or something? He sounded like he knew something about me, about that incident. I don't know how to react to his speculations especially since most of them are true.

"I can only thing of three probable scenarios of what happened," he raised three fingers. "One, it's possible that you witnessed a heinous crime. Two, it's possible that someone tried to—,"

"ENOUGH!"

I couldn't take his nonchalant speculations anymore so I yelled for him to stop talking. If he thought that I was involved in something serious, why doesn't he keep his mouth shut and keep it to himself? Did he really have to show off how good he is at deducing people's life story?

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked as if he didn't realize my mood from my reaction. He looked like as if he still wanted to enumerate other possible scenarios he could think of.

Carrying my laptop, I stood up and went to my room wordlessly but before I turned the doorknob, I looked at him and sneered.

"Now, I know why your roommates didn't dare to stay here for long term, you're even worse than those so-called ghosts,"

I closed my door and locked it before lying down on my soft bed. I closed my eyes and continuously breathed in and out.

Whatever happened back then, I don't want to remember anymore.

Translator Note: Just so you know according to the author, Sherlock Holmes is the biggest inspiration of this on-going work.