Chapter 20: 18 | tantrum; to stir up chaos

[he is somebody that thrives on death's edge]

——xxx——

Lucas yawned, slowly uncurling his body from the thin mattress on the floor.

The papers underneath crinkled with his movement since he'd hastily shoved the letter from Andrew back underneath, ignoring the ghost that watched him from the corner while he slept.

The floor was clean enough, so Lucas decided it was fine to keep the papers underneath until he needed to leave.

He blinked blearily at the ceiling, hair a tangled nest on his head as he felt his mind slowly drifting off again. He forced his body to roll off the bed and tumble onto the cold grounds to wake himself up.

Instead, the chill from the untouched floors made his body go limp and relax as he pressed against it. Thinking about this, it was Andrew's fault.

After all, had the man not kept the cell to startling levels of cleanliness, Lucas would be more unlikely to not melt and doze off against the cool. 

He sighed, rolling to his side to see a shadowy mound leaning against his cell. A broad back, slumped yet somewhat proper even in that position. Whenever he woke up early, he would see that man sleeping against his cell.

Of course, he'd go to sleep again and then be noisily woken up later.

It was strange, Lucas thought absentmindedly, both their relationship and their meeting.

How would they define it?

The used, and the using. A two-way partnership that would end the moment one of them stopped being useful.

The light from the outside corridors slipped inside, creating a somewhat warm glow against the man's face. However, except for the Punisher down the hallway, the cell block was completely empty.

Lucas raised his eyes, and his body moved naturally. The sound of soft shuffling mixed with the air.

The half-awake man was closer now, a hand wrapped around one of the bars and observing. Lazy, snowy eyes squinted as his lips pressed in thought.

He liked to examine people, figure out exactly who they were, what they were like.

Humans were treasure chests, dull and similar on the outside. But it was only when you begun to take a closer look, to dig a little more, that the glittering gems would reveal itself.

The small habits, use of language and flow of movements that was unique to every individual fascinated Lucas.

Elias looked innocent in his sleep, a little less irritating. Most people did. But he didn't suit the dirty floors outside the cell, dressed in his unbuttoned uniform with rolled up sleeves.

Did he get hot during the night?

Regardless, Elias seemed to belong dressed in a fine, carefully tailored suit with that sly smile on his face, attending elegant parties while lying through his teeth. The man's eyes twitched, moving the fine lashes along with his breath.

A swallow, and his neck moved, pulsing with life. The steady rise and fall of his chest, and his relaxed eyebrows that made him look utterly at peace.

Lucas observed him through the bars that separated them, hearing the man's breath fall against his ears.

The deep blue eyes opened, slowly cracking ajar before his pupils moved to look at Lucas. Elias' lips twitched in sleepy amusement, and he tilted his chin towards Lucas.

"I didn't think you were one to enjoy watching people sleep."

Lucas squinted at him, not moving his face with no shame apparent in his expression. "You're handsome."

Elias waited for the man to speak more, but Lucas stopped at those two words before falling silent again. Really, this sort of character made Elias a little speechless sometimes.

"Why thank you—"

"A waste of a good face, though." said Lucas somewhat sadly, shaking his head. "What good is appearance if the personality is trash?"

"I assumed you were fond of my personality, seeing as you keep me around." replied Elias without missing a beat.

Lucas was honest. "I'm more fond of your power, and usefulness."

"I'm glad we're on the same page, then." finished Elias.

Lucas stared for a little longer, before standing up and turning away. As expected, that boss of his was better when he was asleep, and or unconscious in any way.

In other words, Lucas liked Elias better when he shut up.

Unfortunately, the man talked more than usual on their walk to the cafeteria, and Lucas couldn't escape due to the rules on the Story, along with the chains that tugged at him when he grew dazed.

"Most of the people died during the Judging, did you know?"

Lucas glanced at him. "How many?"

"Over half. Do you think it would've been that many if you didn't play a little trick?" Elias' words taunted, probing at a person's guilt. Under the weight of his gaze, lying was difficult, if not impossible.

However, the tired man kept walking indifferently. "Yeah, most likely."

"Then do you have any regrets?"

"I wouldn't have done what I did if I was going to regret it after."

At Lucas' response, satisfaction filled Elias' expression before he stopped, pulling the chain to make Lucas stop as well. The latter scowled, "What the hell—"

A small metal bracelet was dropped into his hand.

Lucas stopped, looking down at the thin, chain bracelet that held a single charm. The Scales of Justice. The life-saving object he was waiting for.

"It was there, lying near your door when I woke up at night." Elias spoke calmly, as if the idea of a murderous statue roaming the dark hallways at night wasn't something entirely abnormal. "Cheating on me already, darling?"

"Yeah."

He wrapped it around his wrist, watching as familiar words appeared before him.

[The Scales of Justice (Rare)

Description: A gift from Lady Justice. Can be used to make an exchange, so long as the provided object is equal to the desired item. Duration of waiting in between each use is dependent on what was exchanged.

Additional: Seducing a statue? Grants you Lady Justice's adoration, you lucky player.]

Ignoring the additional comment as he always did, he curled his fingers up in thought. Had Lady Justice not taken the bait, he wasn't sure how he could find a way to communicate with the Punisher.

Of course, alternate methods existed, though the survival rates were incredibly low.

When he took a step into the cafeteria, the first thing he noticed was the lack of people on the seats. 

A dozen? A little more, perhaps.

The lack of life compared to the beginning was a reminder of the cruel reality.

Finding Nora, he took a seat beside her. She didn't move away, and continued to eat peacefully, looking over at him briefly. As expected, his actions had left a startling impression that couldn't easily be overlooked.

There was the faint sound of crisp paper rustling from somewhere.

Rome smiled happily on the other side of the table upon being looked at, blissfully unaware of the tension. Elias took a seat beside the boy, and the child's smile immediately dropped.

"There were several killed early in the morning, caught roaming outside their cells before being directed outside." said the woman mournfully, taking a deep breath. "The amount that remain aren't many."

"But that's not what I wanted to ask."

She placed down her fork that had been poking at the inedible clumps of soup, and turned to face Lucas properly.

"Lucas, what was the reason that you provoked the crowd?"

The man took a large bite from the soup. "I needed to test something, so my actions were necessary."

"Even at the risk of our lives?"

"Even at the risk of your lives."

She furrowed her eyebrows together, conflicted, looking as if she wanted to say something but couldn't. Clenching her fists in her lap, her shoulders trembled lightly.

"I am sorry to suspect you, but are we allies, Lucas? Are we friends? Can we trust in you to work with us? Tell me that, please."

Relationships were always hard to title. The stranger you spoke to in class a dozen times but never outside, were they friends? The person you enjoyed spending time with and always thought about, were they crushes?

In this case, Lucas didn't usually care much for labels and allowed others to claim their relationship however they wanted.

"Call us whatever you'd like." was the frustrating answer, spoken in the same, cold tone. "I wouldn't have done what I did if I thought you wouldn't survive."

It was true. 

His expectations for Nora and Rome were high, and he didn't doubt that they'd survive the chaos he created. Had he thought they wouldn't, then he would've found a different way to accomplish his goal.

Lucas couldn't be called kind, but he wouldn't kill somebody he decided to take care of.

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Nora stared at him, her clear eyes probing and searching, but Lucas remained unfazed as he continued to eat. 

 Finally, she looked down with a sigh and a faint smile. "I see."

She smiled kindly at Rome who tilted his head across the table and wondered, "What sort of world are you looking to create?"

"Create? I'm no god."

"You are strange, Lucas. I get the feeling that you're trying to do something bigger than you say you are."

The man shook his head, swallowing the last bite. "I'm not trying to do anything except save my brother."

Most of the other prisoners left the cafeteria already, leaving their lonely white table in the center. An odd gathering of survivors, all looking for different things.

Nora's voice seemed loud within the silent group. "It's tragic how fate works, sometimes. That our simple wants can become so complicated to achieve. How the greatest hero could die a villain, or a person's sole desire could fail to be accomplished."

"But I hope you can find your brother, and do whatever it is you plan to do."

She stood up, taking all the empty or abandoned dishes in a pile before Lucas stopped her. Slipping a hand underneath, he grabbed them from her with one hand, and pulled out a stack of papers from under his shirt.

Nora froze, her face a blank mask of surprise while Elias leaned back, laughter in his gaze. The man had pulled the sheets out so naturally, one would assume it'd been in his hands the entire time.

But what else could he'd have done? 

Hidden it in his pants? Honestly, Lucas had considered the option solidly for a few moments before deciding it might be a little crude, even for him.

"Take it."

Two words, not a hint of refusal allowed. Nora slowly reached out a hand to accept the papers, questions in her gaze.

He stepped forward, voice set into a low whisper that the watching boy couldn't hear.

"If I don't complete the Story—"

"Wait, Lucas." interrupted the woman hastily, flinching. "Why would you be unable to leave—"

"If I don't, confirm that Rome's father's name is the name as the writer of this letter. If it is, you can give the papers to the boy when you think it's fine to."

Seeing as the man was stubborn in not answering her question, Nora sighed softly, worry seeping into her voice. Thankfully, she was a person quick to understand the facts, and knew not to cross a line that had been clearly drawn.

"The crimes we're to solve in this Story are based on real life, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"...what a strange coincidence."

Lucas shook his head lightly, starting to walk away, in the direction of one of the guards. "The reason we entered this Story, and the roles that we were assigned—it could've all been predetermined."

He didn't believe in such nonsense as fate or destiny. Perhaps, in life, some things were bound to happen or occur, but everything could ultimately be prevented.

However, some things were naturally drawn to each other. The tragic letters a father left behind, and his abandoned son clinging to a bad man for survival.

Rome and Andrew.

Lucas wouldn't call it fate, but a forceful act of the world. How many people would enter Stories that they were close to? How many would live out the tragedy of somebody who'd died in their life?

Most likely, plenty. 

The Stories were attracted to human misfortune, after all, and what would be sadder than being forced to personally witness the fall of an old friend, or lover?

Lucas proceeded to walk, and Nora's expression grew stranger. Clearly, the direction to leave the trays was to the left, so why did he continue to walk straight?

A guard stood at the end of the path, glancing over at the approaching man with a mocking smile. "Hm? What does the little rat want from me?"

A certain 'little rat' stood silently in front, holding a pile of trays.

When Lucas didn't respond, the guard frowned and stood a step forward, using the bottom of his baton to poke at the frozen figure. "Oi. You ignoring me?"

Then, a calm layer of interest fell upon Lucas' face, as if he'd seen something entertaining. The guard was taken aback by the coldness in those pale white eyes, before a tray slammed over his head.

Baaang--!

A loud crash echoed in the room, trays and leftover food scattered to the ground.

Nora gasped, lunging forward. "Lucas!"

Before she could react properly, a hand thrust out into her path to prevent her from going forward.

"Sit down." said Elias, relaxed as his stare never left the scene, "I'd rather you didn't get in the way of such an amusing event."

"He's—"

"That sponge is likely aware of what the consequences are."

The woman hesitated, before noticing an odd word in his sentence. "...sponge?"

Elias' lips curved into a smile at her questioning look as he nodded, eyes still fixated ahead leisurely. "Boring, plain and unresponsive. Yet whether you cut their limbs off, or rip them to shreds, they don't seem to die."

"...are you referring to... Lucas?"

Elias leaned back in the seat, his finger lightly tapping on the table in a rhythmical beat. "Who else?"

Of course, Lucas wasn't quite as plain or unresponsive as sponges were, though Elias decided that their atmosphere were similar. A lazy, unbothered character that could be fantastically irritating at random.

He wondered how long a man could survive in a world he didn't seem to desire.

On the other side, Lucas continued messing around with the collapsed guard, tossing food high into the air, kicking cutlery against each other and being as noisy as he possibly could.

This was one of the guards near the bathroom that day, likely involved in the mutilation of a prisoner.

Therefore, Lucas didn't hold back as he smashed the tray over one more time for good measure, raining down an array of powerful hits without stop. Chunks of food smeared over the guard's well-kept uniform, who was on the verge of passing out.

Thundering footsteps rushed down the outside hall, and Lucas huffed, tired of all the movement. Deciding that he'd beaten the guard enough, he collapsed onto the floor, sitting...

...cross-legged?

In fact, he almost seemed like a well-behaved student, patiently waiting for who knew what. Eyes droopy from sleepiness, but patient and satisfied from his actions as he remained obediently still. 

A puff of laughter escaped Elias' lips as he watched in laughter.

"Y-you...!"

A female guard burst into the room, gaping at the ruined, slumped over person on the ground and the 'good' prisoner who calmly held onto a tray. A smear of blood lined the edge after accidentally nicking the guard's forehead.

Lucas nodded innocently at the unconscious man. "I beat him up." Then, as evidence, he raised the tray into the air. "This is the weapon I used."

It was an honesty that left even the malicious guards speechless.

Several more had rushed in as he spoke, staring blankly in an orderly line. Thinking that there hadn't been enough evidence to prove his crime, Lucas calmly gestured in the direction of the other three people in the room.

"They're witnesses to the crime."

"....."

Elias waved, offering a lopsided smile. "I can attest to that statement."

"....."

Lucas stood up, tossing the tray to the side before patting his numb legs to make them move properly. Patiently, he peered around and then back at the guards.

"I'm not really scared of your batons." said Lucas with a yawn. "So hurry up and punish me, so we can call it a day."

Finally, one of the guards reacted with a flinch and stormed over, violently yanking at his hair. Lucas' body jerked, pain rushing into his head as cold, metal chains were pressed around his wrists.

"Punishment? Ha! Yeah, we'll show you punishment alright, damn brat!"

Another rushed forward to hold him down, only to realize that Lucas wasn't struggling at all. Confused, and uncertain, they still tried to act rough. "Move it!"

A faint glimmer lit up in the cloudless eyes, confusing the guard who continued to drag away the prisoner anyway.

Perhaps this was a prisoner with mental deficiencies? Who would be excited for a punishment?

However, thinking of the brutal methods used during a session with the locked away Punisher, the guard sneered.

Tomorrow morning, it was likely there'd be another corpse to clear up from that room.

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