CH #11 - Too Many Questions

"I can't fucking believe this..."

Only silence now hung over the ruined classroom, a space where the only light that made its way came from the window panes, cracked and shattered to dust and pieces.

And that same light was the thing that illuminated the element that stood between Ryan's feet and that hideous pile of flesh that was once a group of living, happy people.

"There was nothing. I couldn't do anything."

Kneeling, he stared at the floor, thinking about all the things that were happening. The scarlet blood was already starting to cloth, hardening like visceral red jelly. A subtle reflection of his shape could be seen by observing the outline carefully.

His mind in those painful seconds did nothing more than thinking about how he could have worked things out in a better way. Ryan Savoia ended up not getting a single positive result from the rash actions that took place.

That was what made him feel so bad about all that could be seen. None of these people deserved to die, especially because of his sheer irresponsibility when it came to making choices.

Almost as if seeking some sort of relief, or a declaration that all of this wasn't his fault, the boy let his eyes dart beyond the visible horizon of the red lake before him, taking in what was behind him.

He doesn't hear an answer, as he should have expected, considering who was that person. No one in their right mind would target Lira Aiken as a source of emotional support.

Fact was that the girl didn't seem to care who the victims were or their condition, being more focused on observing the environment and watching the delinquent sitting in the chair. The blood that dripped from his nose was still plentiful, though it had mostly stopped.

She was ready to punch him in the face in any case, but that was it. Saying something other than facts and stating once again it was all his fault was a distant expectation when it came to her.

Ryan swallowed the saliva, acknowledging how expecting anything from her was nothing but silly. Lira wouldn't go out of her way to tell him something positive, especially when she came to be the person who criticized him so sharply and couldn't be more correct.

...Since it was precisely because of his lack of logical thinking and excessive emotion that this scenario was allowed to happen.

"Forgive me. Please forgive me for not being able to save you."

That was an unacceptable mistake, one the boy would never forgive himself for. Ryan didn't know any of those students, but he felt they would all follow him for the rest of his days.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Lira's voice resonated throughout the space, heading specifically for him. Her eyes pink as cherries and sharp as pocketknives met his. It didn't take more than that to determine she didn't plan on supporting him with the pain anyway.

"Unless you want your fingerprints embedded in the corpses, thus creating a chance of being incriminated, I would not touch that body if I were you."

Ryan closed his eyes in a unique kind of rage – the one that came deep inside and gnawed its way out. Very carefully, he struggled to contain that fury and keep it from coming out.

Nothing to stop the Aiken girl from knowing what was in his heart, however.

... But as much as Lira was drowning in the desire to tell him how wrong he was and to belittle and break his spirit until she made the boy cry through words alone, the girl still recognized that wasn't the right situation, and that the context had already taught him the lesson.

All she would do was to wait for someone to arrive.

***

RYAN

"What the fuck... What the hell happened here, Ryan?!" Cast asks, sliding his hand along the white painted wall of the classroom. "We leave you alone for five minutes... And a classroom turns into Swiss cheese!"

He analyzes the various holes in the wall, even pulling out a pencil that is stuck there.

I walk in painful steps, sit down in a chair, holding my shoulder – afflicted by the attack from before – with the opposite hand painfully. I can't bring myself to say anything, and the desire to avoid looking at those bodies is all that consumes me.

"This place looks more like a war field! How did you get like that? Was it that punk over there?"

Cast points to a chair in the front left corner of the classroom, near the blackboard. Sitting there, the delinquent unconscious as a result of the strong blow he suffered in his face thanks to Lira's shoe, is under surveillance.

Lira evacuated the remaining unhurt survivors, but not before asking – or rather forcing me to erase all their memories of the incident. It was a horrible idea from start to finish, and one I can't bring myself to agree with, even though I've been obliged to do it.

None of them will retain any memory of the attack, any of the events, or even their friends who so brutally lost their lives. Each of them will live their lives equally happily, with a mind filled with false memories about a normal day, in a life where they never knew any of the victims.

None of them will be remembered by those who stayed and trusted their promises so much. Every secret had to be forgotten, as did every meager trace of what their lives once meant.

The Junior students who were present at the time of the attack now firmly believe that a flaw in the building's foundation somehow caused all that damage to the classroom. It was painful like nothing to have to erase all those memories while Lira soothed them with her supernatural ability to manipulate feelings .

She made it all look so easy... Just a glare, and none of them showed even the slightest sign of empathy for their fallen friends. Seeing that was truly frightening.

But, it's not like there's much I can do right now. What has passed cannot be repaired. All I have left is to try and swallow this indignation.

"He has an ability to control objects and launch them in the form of projectiles. I heard a noise and came to investigate." I start to tell my side of the story.

Cast slides a hand over his face, closing his eyes and taking in a huge amount of air. He approaches me, with disappointment visible on his face.

"You should have called us to solve this! From what I saw here, you could have died in this fight! Look at you, full of holes. What did you think when you decided to come here alone?"

The tone of his voice is unpleased. I can't deny that Cast is right. It was heavily individualistic and risky to get involved in this all by myself, and it caused all the inconvenience.

"Sorry."

"Only that?! 'Sorry'...?! That's what I say when I bump into someone in the hallway!"

Cast doesn't take any time, and immediately let me know how enraged and disappointed he was.

"You damn...!"

Okay... I deserved this...

I get up without complaining given I have no right to, so all I can do is wipe the blood from my mouth. The cut on the inside of my left cheek is deep enough to really hurt.

Still with his fist outstretched, trembling with his method of education, Cast continues what he had already started with so much hatred.

"Ryan, I can only wonder what the hell you were thinking about when you decided this... I don't know if you remember what we agreed on the first day, but it looks like it's already gone from your memory."

He approaches me again. I don't need to read your mind to know what's going on in it.

"So let me make it loud and clear, yes? We are a team, you know? A. Fucking. Team!"

With each word, the iron taste in my mouth increases. The sound of impacts was not even detected by my ears, but the pain and that taste are characteristic.

Cast finishes with a low kick, making me fall to my knees past that sequence of punches. He grabs me by the collar of the now not-so-white shirt I wear, pressing my disoriented figure against the wall.

"And by the way, I'm the crazy one here. That is, I, Cast Cravache, am the only one who is allowed to act irrationally and impulsively in this type of situation! We're in this together and we'll always be... Until someone dies of stupidity for trying to play the lone hero! Got it?!"

It wasn't that simple, but there's not much to say. I wasn't really looking to play the hero, but it's not the right time to try correcting Cast.

"Do you understand, you son of a bitch?!"

Another punch, and more blood comes out.

"I get it."

He once again takes a deep breath, dropping me against the wall violently.

"All right. Now let's interrogate that one... Let me take a look at this fine maiden here..."

Cast brings his concave-shaped right hand close to the guy's ear, and with a quick jab, slaps it hard enough to pressurize the air to the point of creating a sound similar to a bursting balloon.

Disoriented, the cause of all that chaos awakens with a start, startled by the impact that left him partially unable to hear with his right ear. He looks in all directions, adjusting his vision to the low light in the environment. The three of us approached him, soon giving a warning.

Cast punches the surface of a nearby table, generating an echo that propagates throughout the space.

"You are surrounded. Don't try to resist or fight, and maybe we'll consider letting you go, although I can't guarantee you'll be left unharmed. Oh, of course... We know your little secret, so don't even think about trying!"

"Let's ask some questions. Respond honestly, and don't doubt what we can do to you if you don't." Lira says, snapping her fingers.

Lira's memory makes him click his tongue, baring teeth a little angrily.

"I hope you know what's going on here. We won't take it kindly." She continues, causing her fingers' joints to click as if ready to fill his face with blows.

The delinquent just laughs, and as typical of his personality and behavior, doesn't even resist interrogation.

"Look, I'd usually say 'no shit' and refuse, but I know you guys are way more than you look and…" He looks at me. "…You have a mind reader. That complicates things a lot for me, doesn't it?"

This turned out to be easier than any of us imagined. Anyway, Lira starts the sequence of questions.

"What is your name?"

"I'm Keith Webb... What is it? Don't tell me you want my number after that! No lie, I think I started to like you, bitch!"

Lira doesn't seem to have been affected in the slightest degree by that proclamation, and just blinks as she normally would in response. Keith in turn laughs sharply, enjoying the situation.

"Understood. So Keith, why were you attacking the people in this room?"

"Oh, it wasn't for any special reason, you know? I just wanted to test the new power, like anyone else would in my place! ... Or do you want me to believe that you didn't enjoying forcing your fetishes on me, humiliating me and forcing me to enjoy you stepping on my face while I clearly didn't like that sort of thing?"

Once again he laughs out of the corner of his mouth. It is clear to see that he seeks to get a reaction from Lira.

"Okay... Looks like someone wants to be a clown, huh?" Cast decides to get involved at last. "We'll get you a real reason to laugh."

Lira steps back and Cast takes control of the interrogation. Keith doesn't seem concerned on any level with providing answers, which is somewhat alarming, as any average person would react in a far more extreme way.

"Open up and tell me about these powers. How did you get this shitty skill that can't even lift a TV remote?"

Keith lowers his vision, looking at the ground. Sensing his silence, Cast again raises his fist in the form of a punch, causing the delinquent to simply raise an eyebrow.

"You can lower that fist, since I'm about to tell you." He says, laughing. "It turns out that my memories may be a little hazy and-"

Before Keith can finish, Cast punches the wall in a region of close proximity to the bully's head without the least bit of bravado. That punch makes the whole structure shake a little.

"I think you better start remembering already, 'cause I won't miss the next one..."

Realizing he can't dodge Cast, Keith bites his tongue, finding himself forced to speak.

"... I opened a letter, okay?!" He says, in a mood altered for the worse. "Does that explanation satisfy you, damn Cravache?"

Cast and Lira's responses to those mere words are capable of surprising me, as soon as we hear them, their gazes are filled with immense attention, and both move closer to Keith. Cast grabs the collar of the bully's uniform, shaking him violently.

"A letter?! What kind of letter?! Spit it out already! What kind of letter did you open?!"

His tone of voice is that of someone who is in a life-or-death situation. For what reasons is a letter causing such a strong reaction in these two? I need to find out more about this, and that is, I must keep listening.

"You better cooperate, or the experience will feel much worse." Lira reinforces the threat, kicking the chair.

Keith's back collides with the ground, causing a sharp cry of pain to be heard. There is no way out of this place, other than continuing to say everything he knows.

In fact, it's almost like he didn't want to leave, given how serene and peaceful he seemed to be, all the conditions and threats considered.

"It was a strange white one. It was about five days ago, like I said... I had just taken some money from a couple nerds on the way out and went home with the boys, Ryder and Ethan... We were both hanging around the streets that afternoon and stuff like that... And that's when I found an envelope on the floor."

Now even I am strangely interested in the subject. I get up from the chair I'm sitting in and walk, leaning on the objects in the room, until I approach the center of the room where Keith is being held.

"It was a weird envelope, no name, no address… There wasn't any kind of information written on it. I was curious, after all, it could have been a large check or something like that, so I called them both and opened it."

Keith closes his eyes, pausing for a moment. Sensing the pause, Cast forces him to continue.

"What happened next? What happened to the other two bastards who were with you?! Speak up, dammit!"

"Inside the envelope was a white powder that blew in our faces. We got mad and threw that crap in the woods... And... The next day, Ryder and Ethan... They... They died."

Keith's suffering when talking about his friends is noticeable. As much as they weren't exactly good people, the thought of seeing someone close to you die is often even more shocking.

No... I will not look back... I will absolutely not look back.

"How did they die?" Cast's tone becomes more subtle.

"They got sick… The three of us got, but I survived that load of bullshit. And after that, I found that I can do these weird things... These 'powers', as you might call it. And now, I'm here... Is there something more to ask, you son of a bitch?"

His tone of voice became increasingly weak and melancholic, and his expression abandoned its usual features, giving way to something strangely serene and compassionate.

Cast walks a few steps away from the interrogation site. Thoughtful, the boy with eyes that burn like the raging blood of a dragon paces back and forth, putting the pieces together in his mind.

"I think that's all we need to hear from him."

I resolve to intervene. There is still one question I want to ask.

"You said there are 'others', didn't you? How many? Who are they? What can they do?"

Keith laughs bitterly, the same gesture that was repeated over and over during our clash, the only difference being the remarkable weakness in comparison.

"Oh, that's something I can't say... Simply put, I can't say it because I don't know."

He continues.

"But one thing I can tell you… The thing I'll be telling the worst bastard of the three…" He looks at me. "... And I'm talking to you, little hero."

Keith, slumped and forced to look up at the ceiling while still tied to the chair, closes his eyes, smiling in a truly full way for the first visible time.

"You better prepare yourself. This city... This piece of land forgotten by the rest of the world... There's something that lurks around here, you know? A much worse and cruel thing than some teenagers who seek to cause some chaos…"

Keith laughs like a maniac. The laugh indicates a specific level of mental abandon that was typical of someone who-

"Ryan Savoia... Given that fucking fancy surname you got, in the end it just had to be you..."

Upon hearing that, my mood changes completely. I completely ignore the pain I feel. I have to know...! He can not...

He cannot die...!

"What do you mean by that?! What does that mean?! What do I have to do with this whole situation?! Please! I need... I need to know this!"

"Find out for yourself, sucker. Ryder... Ethan... I... I'll be there soon..."

"Wait...! No, no!"

Keith closes his eyes, and the body loses all support. The head drops to the right side and consciousness fades away. Cast approaches him quickly, shaking the fallen body hard as he grips his shoulders.

"Hey! Wake up! Wake up!"

... ... ...

"He is dead."

The words escape my mouth bitterly. Cast gives up trying to wake him up after hearing that, and like Lira, he stares at me in silence.

I look at Keith for a few seconds, and summon the courage to put my hand to his forehead. There are no doubts.

"Since I understand myself as a human, I have this ability to read and manipulate other people's minds... And when I touch each one of them, I can see everything... Dreams, hopes, loves... Fears... Nothing is impossible for me to find out. The minds of some are clear and easy to navigate, while those of others are deep and almost impossible to analyze. But the general fact is that I can feel the presence of thoughts in all of them."

I stop for a minute, contemplating Keith's image for a few more seconds.

"…But for me, a dead person is the same as an object. Objects don't have thoughts, don't dream, don't feel fear... When someone dies, their thoughts fall with them, and cease to exist. Dead people have no minds."

As I say that, a heavy minute of silence takes over the room. Each of us looks to one side, thinking the same thing, each in our own way. Cast looks down at the ruined floor, stress on his face visible even as he tries to hide it. Lira looks at the broken window, immediately placing herself in the only spot of light that invades the entire space. Trying to figure out what was on her mind was like finding a needle in a haystack.

And as for me... I keep that delinquent's words as something precious – a piece in my mission to find out more about myself.

I'm going to find out more about all of this... About these letters – or whatever they really are – and most of all…

"I cannot allow more avoidable deaths to happen." I promise myself in a low voice.

Keith Webb, we will unravel this mystery.

Cast's steps are heard. He approaches the entrance to the dark room.

"There's nothing more to see here. The police won't find any clues and won't solve the crime. Also, we need to take Ryan to the infirmary."

***

"I'm home!"

"Good afternoon, bro!" Hannah's familiar voice is heard.

I go into the living room, and there I find my sister watching television. The TV is on a movie with a boy who appears to be half dragon and a girl with feline features like ears and tail. The movie is full of special effects to simulate the use of magic.

"I must say you're quite early. Did something happen?"

"Yes. Today is a day off. They're investigating some cases of a strange illness, so not all members of the staff are currently there. They think it's some kind of superbug, and... What happened to your face?!"

When she finally looks at me, Hannah is caught by surprise, after all, it's no wonder. The entire left half of my face is bandaged, thankfully with the exception of the eye, and the same could be said of my left arm and right leg.

"Oh my gosh… What happened to you, brother?! Got involved in a fight or something?!" she questions, worried.

"I fell on my bike down a slope in the morning. That's it." I lie. "It's just that the landscape is too beautiful not to look at it!"

Hannah looks at me suspiciously. She changes the angle of her vision several times, all of them holding that impression.

"You're no good with lies, brother. It certainly wasn't just a fall off a slope... These wounds are too cohesive and the clothing would protect you if it happened."

Having someone used to seeing this sort of thing on a daily scale and who knows about it makes the act of trying to deceive that much more complicated, if not nearly impossible.

"Be sincere. What happened today? It's not good to keep that kind of secret."

Under the circumstances, there is no way to continue hiding.

"Okay… I got into a fight at school. It was against a bully."

I can feel myself saying this with some hesitation. What happened in that classroom can't even be remotely called a "fight".

"From what I can see, you must have lost, huh…" She replies, smiling as she caresses my face.

I don't feel able to say something like "I won," so I just raise my eyebrow, hoping she'll read the contextual clues to my facial expression.

"Don't tell me you won?! Oh my... If that's your state, I wonder how this bully must be!" Incredibly, she looks happy at the idea of ​​me beating someone.

That phrase came out innocently. She doesn't know a thing about what happened there... And it's better for it to be kept that way.

As I remember the state Keith Webb was left in, my facial expression can't keep up as playful.

Hannah notices my sudden silence and change of mood, and questions what happened.

"What is it, brother?"

I force a smile, camouflaging my thoughts.

"It was nothing. Anyway, where's Joanne?" I change the focus of the conversation.

"Working, as usual... She never shows up at home!"

"That's true. It's been a while... Well, I'll go up and take a look at this." I draw a circle with my finger around the left side of the face. "In a little while I'll back down here and we'll start making dinner!"

"You'll need some care later!"

"But of course. I look forward to having my excellent sister treat me."

I make my way upstairs, removing that smile-shaped mask from my mouth. It is not known what caused Keith Webb's death. Lira called an ambulance to the school, we already knew he was dead. To cover the case we decided to use standard procedure.

After confirmed death, his body was taken so that there can be an exact determination of what led to it.

There weren't any classes that day, and I spent the rest of the period fixing the mess by erasing memories of the entire building, and then walking around town to consume the time necessary to make it seem like a normal day, while trying to get used to those sights and memories.

A white envelope with no names or address. We didn't talk about it for the rest of the day. What is it about that envelope that kills the majority of who open it, and guarantees those capabilities to the few survivors?

There are more questions for few answers. Maybe, if I follow this line, I will be led to what I lost five years ago...?