REND

Chapter 8: 1.8


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“Hi, Mom.”

“Erind! Thank goodness you picked up. I couldn’t contact you. I thought something bad happened to you.”

“I was inside the elevator, Mom. Now, I’m walking to my room.”

“Is that so? You gave me a quite scare, dear. I saw the fire on the news fire...the mall near your school?”

“Sanders you mean? Really? It’s on fire?” I said with fake shock. I stopped in front of the door of my room and took out my key card. It was, fortunately, safe inside my wallet along with my credit cards, school I.D., and other important stuff. On the unfortunate side, all the other things I left inside Deen’s car were probably already ash.

My bag, all my notes—those were not a big loss, I could just buy a new cheap tote bag and reprint my notes. Good thing I didn’t bring any of my expensive law school books today. But what pissed me off was my foldable bike getting burned. I had to take the bus from the train station to get home.

I absolutely detested sitting close to people on the bus. The train was fine, I always stood in the middle, holding on to the grab rails. The bus passing by my apartment, regrettably, was nearly always packed which was why I’d rather ride my bike. And now, I didn’t have a bike.

“Yes! It’s on the news," Mom said. "Cheryl, she’s my new assistant, by the way, cheery girl, you should meet her. Where was I?

I rolled my eyes. “Cheryl,” I said to Mom. I pressed my key card against the lock and it clicked. My room was dark because I always closed the heavy blinds. I flicked the lights on.

“Oh yes! Cheryl, she said she saw it on the internet, and then she showed me. I was panicking because I know you go there sometimes. Thank the Mother Core, you’re safe.”

“I didn’t know about it. We had a meeting for a group report after my class this morning. I have a bit of headache, so I decided to go home right after.”

“A headache? Aspirin and a couple hours of nap would do you good. Also drink plenty of water, dear. All that late-night reading strains your eyes. Take care or you might have to wear glasses before you graduate.”

I felt around my eyes. Shit. I dropped my glasses somewhere. When I wasn’t concentrating on putting up a face for someone, I sometimes forgot certain aspects of my face, like my fake glasses for example. I didn’t realize I lost it until now. “I will, Mom. Don’t worry about me.”

“I will worry about you, I'm your mother. Promise, after my convention in Switzerland I'll visit you for a few days. Is that okay with you, dear? We can go shopping at the mall… oh, the mall is burning.”

“We can go to other malls. Or I can just tour you around the city.”

“Sounds great, dear.”

“I’m inside my apartment now, Mom. I think I’m going to order lunch. Thanks for calling.”

“Have your lunch and take a rest. You should also check on your friends if they’re safe. Love you, Erind sweetie.”

One friend is probably dead. “Yes, Mom,” I said. I hesitated then added. “Love you too.”

Passing by my wall mirror, I caught a glimpse of myself. Every morning, before I went to university, this was my last stop, checking my outfit, makeup, and hair. Funnily enough, this was the first time I was wearing a different outfit than the one I left the house with.

The pink blouse with puff sleeves I took—okay, I shoplifted—was too striking for my taste and also a couple of sizes too large for me. But it did its job of covering the splotches of blood, my own blood, on the upper part of my jeans. I raised my blouse to reveal the smooth skin of my abdomen. No holes, as if I wasn’t turned into shish kebab earlier.

I should remember to avoid getting injured in front of other people and healing too fast or getting myself in a situation where I'd be forced to get tested. Any future medical examinations should be avoided. Employers required medical certificates, ugh. That was if I could even hide my secret and survive until graduation.

Would you look at that, the campus legend that anyone who studied in view of the Black Spire by the sea wouldn’t be able to graduate might have some truth to it?

Still, my super regeneration was a minor concern at present. This was only the start of my bodily transformation. I opened my right hand and grimaced. Protruding from the left portion of my palm was a tiny white crystal, about the size of a pinhead. It reminded me of the crystal on the golden gauntlet SpookyErind wore on her right hand.

I had no clue what to do with this one. A band-aid? Make-up? A pimple patch?

I turned on the TV and switched to the local news channel. Sure enough, there was live coverage of the fire. Nine injured, two serious, and the authorities weren’t sure if there was anyone left inside the burning building.

Tuning out the news, I focused on my two concerns right now.

First: getting discovered as an Adumbrae—I am an Adumbrae, right? If the authorities were onto me, then I should prepare to run away and live the rest of my life in hiding. Wow, that’s such a hassle!

Second: there were Adumbrae who wanted to kill me and I had no idea why.

There was nothing on the news about the possible suspected arsonist. But I knew the fire was caused by the ones after me.

If the fire was only in that employees’ corridor, how did it spread all over the mall so fast? When I got to the first floor, people were already running away and smoke was everywhere; the fire was started fires in multiple locations. Did it mean they had two objectives? Burn the mall, and also kill me?

I couldn’t make heads or tails of this but, at the least, I could reasonably expect the police and BID wouldn't come looking for me anytime soon. My would-have-been killers wouldn’t want to be caught either, which meant they'd cover their tracks, indirectly covering any evidence leading to me. Maybe that was why they burned the mall.

“Breaking News,” blared the television, intruding in my genius-detective-brain-time. “Update on the ongoing Madagascar crisis. An Adumbrae has just been categorized as a Kreggan. We are informed by the spokesperson of the United Nations Security Council that the Category Kreggan Adumbrae is currently roaming the southern part of Antananarivo City, capital of the French Protectorate of Madagascar.”

The screen then showed grainy footage of a gigantic Adumbrae, around sixty feet tall considering the height of the buildings it was demolishing. It was vaguely humanoid, except it had six forearms, three branching out from each elbow, ending in hands with dozens of spindly claws. Stretching out its arms, it paraded through the street with a huge grin on its withered, almost mummy-like, disgusting face. Buildings crumbled into dust as it walked past, and then the video cut off.

The reporter continued, “That was the only footage we are provided by the UNSC of this Titan Class-C Adumbrae. After constant bombardment for three hours with no visible effect, and the data gathered by drones, the Free Will Initiative and the Gerhard International Research Alliance recommended to the UNSC tagging it as Kreggan, or an Adumbrae that developed conscious reality rending capabilities. This is the first Category Kreggan Adumbrae in the last six years. We now go—”

“What the fuck is happening in this world.” I flipped to other news channels, all of them talking about the Adumbrae in Madagascar.

“—multiple protests across France. The public is decrying the inaction of the French government in monitoring the situation of the seeding rate in its protectorate territory. Public opinion is divided whether the Adumbrae crisis in Madagascar is considered an external threat which requires the mobilization of the French Army under the treaty of—”

“—the UNSC has officially requested assistance from the Corebring Hive. Two Overseers have already been dispatched by the Hive—”

“—Toamasina, the second largest city in Madagascar, and currently holding the biggest concentration of refugees in the country is under constant attack. The 14th ComExo Expeditionary Unit of the United States has reinforced—"

“Where’s Madagascar again? Africa?” I said as I searched my phone. “Okay, it’s pretty far from here. So, not my problem.” I turned off the TV.

I boiled water, poured it into a cup, and plopped in a teabag. Peppermint to relax my nerves. No honey. I sipped my tea so slowly it eventually got cold. All this time my thoughts went back to how turning into an Adumbrae would change my life moving forward.

An hour or so passed. I wasn’t taking note of the time, staring blankly at the wall.

Thinking.

This is such a hassle, I kept on repeating.

I stood up and searched for a knife in my kitchen, then went to the sink and turned it on. With more bravado than I usually possessed, I held the knife’s sharp point against the white crystal on my palm. It felt awkward holding the knife with my left hand because I was right-handed.

The progression of an Adumbrae possession wasn’t public knowledge. Like I had no idea how a giant Adumbrae comes into being. I also didn't know how fast or slow someone mutates once an Adumbrae started taking over their body. One thing I was certain about, any mutation would progress until the individual wasn’t recognizable as a human anymore.

My cute self would be no more.

And I didn't want that to happen.

What if I just removed any anomalous growths as they appeared? I inhaled and started to drive the knife below the crystal, into my skin, into my flesh. Blood spurted out of my palm and dripped down to the sink. My face contorted with anger and pain; pain that was eerily bearable even though I was digging around my palm with a knife.

Not a very human trait.

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The knife hit a snag. I pulled the knife out and selected another entry point. I furiously dug around the crystal, clenching my jaws and tensing all the muscles in my body. The scarlet flow continued to cover the silver of the sink, mixing with the swirling water, eventually going down the drain. Knife scraping against bone was a repulsive feeling—multiply scratching a chalkboard with your nail a thousand times and add in pain.

Lots of pain.

It was no use. The crystal was connected to my bone somehow.

Unless I cut off my hand...no, I wouldn't go that far.

I dropped the knife to the sink and stared at both of my hands.

My right hand shook uncontrollably. Flesh around the crystal looked like my botched first attempt at filleting a fish in my high school home economics class. Bits and pieces of flesh jutted out like petals framing the crystal; it was almost lovely like a flower.

I shook my head.

The pain.

Rather the absence of it.

If I was still human, I should be writhing on the ground right now. The blood also stopped flowing, scabs forming, peeling off, the skin renewing. You wouldn’t even need Professor Deslys' machine to check if I was healing like a human.

I am no longer human.

My future…all my plans. Gone.

I would say that this was depressing, but I couldn’t feel that much of an emotion that would be categorized as a depressive state.

Denial?

No, no. I pretty much accepted I was an Adumbrae. As SpookyErind said, there was no point thinking about whether my mind had been taken over or not.

Anger?

Yes, I could feel some of that. Anger I couldn’t continue living a normal life. Anger that it'd take an enormous amount of effort to hide I was an Adumbrae, and that this would continue on the rest of my life. A life that could be long or short depending on how well I hid it, and also how lucky I was.

Sadness?

Sad my life changed forever? Sad that surviving would be a pain in the ass? Not really. More like pissed. Maybe sad that my ending was pretty much set and I was just waiting for it? But then again, all of us are waiting for our end.

Despair?

No. I didn’t feel despair.

Happiness?

Surprisingly, a bit. In a way. Normal life was indeed boring and this potential for thrill and adventure was nothing like anything else that could've happened to me had I stayed human. But at what cost?

I walked to my mirror and stared at myself...

as my blood dried on my skin…

for awhile…

“Are you fucking stupid?!” I screamed at my reflection. I balled up my hands into tight fists and punched my face as hard as I could. Right, then left. Again and again. The salty taste of blood filled my mouth, a hot dribble dripped out my nose. Along with healing powers, my strength also went up. “It’s so simple! Just follow the Rules!”

I wiped the blood off my nose with my arm then held up my right hand. Golden liquid rose out of the crystal, twisting, swooshing through the air. Gold turned to red, liquid into solid, into jaws, angry fangs. The mask I had worn sat on my hand.

An actual mask that became a face.

Follow the Rules!

Rule #8, I couldn't kill myself. If I gave up trying to hide my mutation, go surrender to the police, or did something else that would cause my death, it was equivalent to killing myself. And that wasn't allowed.

Rule #4, I wouldn't bother the world if I wasn't bothered. But I was bothered. Very much so. I have so many fuckers to kill. With this power, I could do it.

There was no problem. I'd go living as usual, following my Rules.

No problem at all.

My phone rang. I stared straight into the eyes of my reflection. I wasn’t finished pep-talking myself.

The ringing continued. I sighed and closed my hand, the red-fanged face disappeared into thin air. What is it this time? I thought, taking out my phone.

The name 'Amber Deen' was displayed on my screen as the caller.

Deen? She was alive? I already wrote her off as dead. She wasn't killed by the Adumbrae in the parking lot? Or the fire?

Perhaps this was someone else using her phone. My finger hovered over the answer button, unsure whether to take the call or not. Deen could also be at the hospital and someone was using her phone looking for friends or family members.

But what if this was one of the people who attacked me and they had her as a hostage or something?

I had to answer this before I could decide on my course of action.

Okay, what was the appropriate emotion for this? Remember, I didn’t transform and fought an Adumbrae. I was just a normal girl that escaped a fire and didn’t know shit about anything. Upon seeing this call, I wasn’t going to assume this was a trap; I’d think this was really Deen.

Sooo…distressed?

Distressed, come on, girl, show me distressed.

I answered the call, "Deen! Where are you! Are you okay? There was fire and, and, and, uh, where are you?" I decided to keep it vague just in case this was the police; I wasn’t going to instantly admit I was there at the mall.

"Erind," Deen replied, confirming she was alive. I relaxed upon hearing her voice. "Erind, listen…I have to tell you something. You won't believe me because this will sound crazy. But I need you to trust me on this one."

What the fuck is this now?

 

 

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