Chapter 19: 17 | silence; black and blue

[the child's tragedy has come to light]

——xxx——

During the coldest of nights, Lucas always remembered the past, as if the memories naturally rose to dominate his thoughts.

He was sensitive to weather changes, and curl up in his bed. The young child would shiver, but refuse to complain or state his discomfort. He'd shake, but not want to be a bother to anybody.

A knock, careful and gentle, would rap against his door.

"Lucas."

His brother's voice carried notions of comfort and care in their soothing warmth, and Lucas would peek his head out of the covers as the door cracked open. Kane would stand at the doorway, a book in his hand.

"I'm cold," he'd say calmly with a light smile, although his short-sleeves and calm expression said otherwise. "Can I stay with you?"

Then, Lucas would nod and shuffle into the corner of his bed, allowing space for another person to squeeze in.

The pair of brothers were quiet, and got along not in their endless conversations but the peaceful silence they often shared.

Sometimes, Kane would talk about the current book his was reading, or a new series he'd taken interest in. Lucas would always listen, and then read the same book or watch the same series the next day.

Lucas closed his eyes, pressed against the wall of his cell as he waved away the memory. Kane. He was certain that he'd eventually find a way to remember his brother, but these thoughts that kept him alive would soon disappear temporarily.

That idea scared him, more than dying alone in this Story, or failing to achieve success in the damned world.

A jingle of keys from the door steered him away from his thoughts, and Elias's blue gaze scrutinized him. "Awake, dear subordinate?"

Lucas raised his head and sighed reluctantly, before exiting the cell.

"Are you going to make an excuse to explore now?" said Elias with a careless grin, without turning his head. The doorway was right ahead.

Lucas didn't look at him. "Going to the bathroom isn't an excuse."

Elias laughed knowingly and released the chains before waving goodbye, and leaving. Probably going off to wreak havoc and bother other people, thought Lucas with a shake of his head.

As Elias was walking towards the cafeteria to waste away time, a small figure bumped into him. The boy stumbled, but Elias made no signs of moving to help.

When the child's head raised, what stared at him wasn't the innocent, large eyes of a naive boy, but sharp, dangerous brown. Elias glanced down lazily before tilting his head with interest.

"Have I done something to offend you, perhaps?"

"I don't trust you." said Rome bluntly, childishly tugging his lips down into a suspicious pout. "Why do you keep following mister around?"

Elias raised his eyebrows at the honest accusation, and a slight chill brushed over his eyes. "Trust me, I didn't plan to end up in another Story with that man. And as long as he doesn't seek my out, I have no intentions of meeting again. But you're right to not trust me, kid."

Rome shivered and took a step back from the towering shadow of the man.

A terrible, murderous smile rested upon Elias' lips.

"I have anything but good intentions."

Before Rome's danger bells rang even more intensely in his head, urging him to escape immediately, the air quickly became mild again, and Elias returned to his carefree, arrogant self.

"Run along," shooed the man, gesturing to the door. "That man you're clinging to is likely messing around in places he shouldn't be again."

Bored, he added, "He's been stalking out that room recently, so it's a safe time. The next patrol won't be for another hour."

Rome stepped back hesitantly, before scurrying off, casting one last glare at the man who simply waved. Without a doubt, Elias was a dangerous, not-to-be-underestimated person.

Only, Rome was confident that Lucas was likely aware of that fact. So why continue to interact with him?

In front of the medical room was where Rome found Lucas, looking around carefully for any signs of guards. After determining that the area was safe, Lucas paused with his hand resting on the handle, casting his steely eyes onto Rome.

The boy's footsteps were quiet—he hadn't realized the child's approach until just now.

"Mister." said Rome quietly, running up to him with soft steps.

A natural-born thief, somebody with much use in this Story, thought Lucas distantly before lowering his chin in greeting. "I'm searching for documents. You can look to figure out the real criminal behind your accusation."

Rome had witnessed the cruel act of Lucas', stirring up the crowd to gain the amusement of Lady Justice. Of course, the child didn't know of the reasons, but had clearly seen the chaos created by a few words.

However, despite understanding this, Lucas didn't ask questions about the previous events and Rome didn't bring it up.

But the sight of horrible sinning would forever engrave in his young mind.

People killing people, the secrets piling up from simple crimes to horrendous acts of abuse and violence. The screaming, shouting, pleading for their lives as they fell over one another, clamouring to survive.

The light from the pathway in Lady Justice's body dimly illuminated the pathetic foolishness in the crowded space.

In fact, most didn't die at the hands of the statue, but instead pushed down the chasm accidentally or with purpose, crushed under the stampeding crowd or beaten bloody in a fight.

Rome had watched it all, unblinkingly, even when Nora attempted to shield him from the sights. Her entire body trembled as she crouched down in the corner, as far away from the scuffle as possible.

But Nora had been called up first.

And Rome was left alone in the bloody scene.

"Come here, Rome." said Lucas suddenly, surprising the other, who blinked his large eyes obediently, walking over. "Raise your sleeves, please."

Rome blinked a few more times, before nodding and pulling up his sleeves.

Lucas paused at the sight, exhaling deeply. The entire skin was covered in purple and blue bruises, littered with faded cuts and injuries. Nothing as severe compared to the injury from before, but still horrible.

He grabbed some ointment from the table and begun to carefully apply it. Rome watched him without speaking, thinking that the coldness from the man's hands was strangely comfortable.

They treated his bruises with such caution that they almost seemed apologetic.

"You don't have to feel sorry, mister."

The hands flinched before unwrapping the soaked bandage on the bone-thin arm. Lucas didn't respond, so Rome continued to speak instead. "It really doesn't hurt."

"...this doesn't hurt?"

The boy shook his head simply. "It's okay, I'm used to it."

Lucas felt his blood run cold at the easily spoken words, and the innocent, unaware expression on the child's face. Used to it.

It explained the boy's strange indifference to things, and the lacking expressions.

Lucas finished wrapping the wounds, tucking the rest of the cream into the boy's pocket. "Apply it again tonight. If you need help, call me."

A malnourished body accustomed to pain. Lucas could only imagine the things this child had likely been through, and the worse to come.

Rome watched the changing expressions, the subtlest of twitches with interest. He'd crawled through the crowd of screaming adults, pushing and being stepped or stomped on. He'd almost been thrown aside, had blood splatter on his face.

But, in the life that he remembered, violence was common. To be beaten if one did something wrong, to have little and hope for little.

Somebody pitying him was common, but not the twisted expression on Lucas' face.

Anger.

Somebody was feeling angry for him.

Rome blinked as a large hand stretched out slowly and ruffled his hair, staring at his bare feet.

"Good job, Rome."

The little boy broke out into a shy, genuine smile. He jumped off the bed he'd been sitting on and rushed up to sort through files. Occasionally, Lucas would slip him a piece of paper to read.

Sure, Rome couldn't read everything properly, but the man wasn't pushing him away! He didn't get mad, or irritated even if Rome couldn't do much.

A soft, cheerful air radiated from the boy, and Lucas glanced over to ruffle his hair once again. 

It couldn't be helped. Lucas truly didn't believe himself to be a good person, and if abandoning a child for the sake of his ideals became necessary, he would resolve himself to do it, but...

Lucas' eyes grew slightly gentler, a fraction so slight that nobody would've noticed. If he could help it, he didn't want to drag this boy into the hell that awaited.

At least, he would help Rome stay alive for as long as he could.

"Oh, mister," called Rome softly, tugging at the man's shirt. "I think I know who the ghost is watching."

Lucas stopped and lowered the sheets of paper in his hand. "Who?"

"The golden-haired lady who left the room before you yesterday."

The man's mind immediately snapped to a particular woman, and his frown tugged further into a displeased look. 

An acquaintance of Elias could never be normal.

"Be careful around her. I'll investigate more." said Lucas finally, before continuing to read through his files. The most prominent information regarding Andrew was the child he left behind.

A young boy diagnosed with extreme depression and anxiety. Pills, therapy, all sorts of treatments attempted and failed. Money that was endlessly spent by a father who wanted nothing more than his child's happiness.

Would such a man risk going to jail and leaving the child behind so easily?

Of course, that sort of thing proved nothing in the face of the law—or whatever system this Story ran by. An assumption of one's psychological state could indeed be useful, but could not overturn clear evidence.

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He pulled out photos taken at the crime scene, narrowing his eyes further. 

Multiple shallow stabs. However, the thing that killed the woman was a lucky cut through the brachial artery, killing the victim within 90 seconds.

But based on Lucas' scrubbed clean hands that were blistering from hand wash, and the cleaning chemicals that covered the oddly clean cell, Andrew seemed to have an OCD.

Lucas couldn't determine the severity of his OCD, but it was likely that he had it. This could be determined further with proper medical files. It was valid proof—why would a man who despised dirty things create such a messy, inexperienced death?

Not to mention, the shallow wounds weren't ones a large male such as Andrew would make, even if he'd been hesitant.

Then Lucas faltered on a photo of the blood splatters.

They were pointed down, diagonally left. Due to the direction of a slash, it was likely that the culprit was right-handed.

Andrew wore a broken watch on his right wrist. Although once again, it couldn't be certain. However, that was a habit of left-handed people in many cases.

Would this much evidence suffice? 

But if nothing was conclusive, then the accusation couldn't be overturned. However, this much would give him room to argue Andrew's innocence, and perhaps that was enough.

If he could get his hands on information confirming Andrew's left-handed status to contradict the blood splatters, then it was enough to overturn the accusation.

His eyes wandered back to the child, the boy who was left without a mother or a father, growing up under harsh circumstances. The medical files for the child, ironically, were plentiful, and Lucas closed his eyes.

Black and blue wounds, all over. A bloody mess, slender bones that could break with a single touch.

Just like Rome.

A strange thought flickered into his mind, and he turned his head around. The boy looked up, tilting his head as soft, brown curls brushed his forehead.

"Hey, how old are you?"

The answer came instantly. "Twelve."

Lucas flicked through the files once again. The boy who had been left behind was seven years old at the time of Andrew's execution.

It was a far stretch. A ridiculous farce, a joke even. But Soul Stories were based on genuine tragedies, and he couldn't help but wonder...

"What happened to your parents?"

A man with no delicacy.

Or a man who knew exactly what to ask and what reactions to seek.

Rome blinked slowly, crouched down on the ground, reading. He looked back down. There was sorrow in his delicate voice. "My dad's dead."

"...and your mother?"

Lucas flinched.

The boy snapped his head up, staring with large, innocent eyes. And yet alone in this room with just the two of them, Lucas felt a chill run up his spine.

"She's dead too." said Rome, the hint of a smile pasted on the pale pink lips.

"How did she—"

"There are some questions you shouldn't ask, Lucas Silvius." interrupted a voice, a smooth melody that was almost like a siren's lure.

Lucas' body tensed cautiously.

His name. There hadn't been an introduction, far as he knew.

A golden-haired woman stepped inside lightly, glancing over the two with indifference. "I'm glad you're here. Child, you can stop looking for the true criminal of your accusation now."

Rome stared at her, confused. "Why?"

"Because my role is the real thief who is meant to witness your execution."

She walked over to the filing cabinet, rummaging through before eying a few sheets she needed. The entire time, her movements were graceful and with no unnecessary movements.

Lucas leaned back on the table, crossing his arms. "What are your intentions, Sylvia?"

"Tch, I knew I saw an irritating face earlier." She scowled, wrinkling her nose in purposeful disgust. She was referring to Elias.

The woman glanced over and coolly looked away. "Is it wrong to do anything to survive? I'm simply prioritizing my life, which I have no right to waste away on my own." The papers in her hand was the DNA evidence of a name Lucas didn't recognize.

"Whether or not that boy and woman complete their task, I will still survive."

Lucas rolled his head, yawning. "It would've been easier to keep quiet."

"Really?" Her golden eyes flicked up, almost taunting. "I assumed there was a terrifying animal protecting him."

Lucas didn't reply, and she too turned away once again. A kill or be killed society. Where the kind and innocent were the first to fall.

Because even if they survived, what they once were could never remain untainted.

The world corrupted people. 

And the easiest way to trudge through the nonsense that was life was to turn your back on humanity.

She walked away after finding what she was looking for, stopping at the open door. There was no caution or worry about any guards approaching, and her sharp eyes observed Lucas carefully.

"I intend to have somebody else take my place for the crime. Will you stop me?"

If the man answered no, then it would mean he didn't care for anything other than those under his protection, such as the child and the woman. That wasn't wrong. It couldn't be wrong to prioritize what you knew, understood and cared for.

If the man said yes, he was a foolish idealist. Those types were always charming idiots, ones that naturally attracted the worst kinds of people. It would make for an interesting Story, if that was the case.

Instead, he stared at her and leaned back, dragging his focus back onto the files. "I can't."

"Why is that?"

"I have no right to pretend to be righteous when I've already prepared myself to do so much worse."

Sylvia remained silent for a few moments. 

Did that answer fall under the 'yes' category, or the 'no'?

He wanted to keep people alive, but would cast lives aside if necessary.

A very logical, and straight-forward person.

She laughed softly, like a twinkle of bells that left as quickly as it had come. "Then you'll survive for a very long time."

Lucas ignored her as she left, predicting her following actions. Forging evidence, faking a crime that her own character was meant to shoulder. She only needed a willing sacrifice to take her place, for everything to carry out smoothly.

Though Lucas was certain that whether she succeeded easily or with difficulties, she would undoubtedly succeed.

Rome had been quieter than usual, so Lucas folded a piece of paper scraps on the table into a small crane and placed it in front of the boy.

He'd made many cranes when trying to pass the time, but when he'd made a thousand and prayed hard for a wish, he never made them again.

Rome's eyes lit up and his small hands played around with the wings with childish intrigue. He peered at Lucas.

"Are you going to kill somebody, mister?"

Lucas contemplated the question. "I already have. And I will kill more in the future."

"Hmm... I see."

The boy didn't protest or say anything adverse, and they both left the room. They went to the cafeteria for food, and Lucas noticed Sylvia close to a man. He noticed the ring on the man's finger, likely indicating marriage, and considering his age, it was possible for the man to have a child or two.

Was this her scapegoat? He frowned, thinking that, but decided to look away. If he chose not to interfere, he couldn't ask any questions either.

Elias moved over and clicked the chains back into place. "That was an awfully long bathroom break."

Lucas shrugged and started to eat the awful gruel. "I spent time checking myself in the mirror."

"For an hour?"

"Mn."

Elias laughed, amused, and sat beside Lucas with a tray of delicious, mouth-watering food. Lucas glanced at it, clearly envious, while the other ate it in front of him.

However, he soon turned to his own food and ate with vigour, once again frightening everyone in the room.

Elias licked his lips in satisfaction, purposely faking a look of delight at his food while he ignored the jealous sights around him. After seeing Lucas continue inhaling his questionable meal, Elias sighed.

"When will you meet with the Punisher?"

Lucas swallowed a particularly large spoon of disgusting mush.

"Tomorrow."