Chapter 2: Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December

You know there’s some days in your life that you just can’t forget… Ever? No matter how much you try to, no matter how much you drown yourself in work, or indulge in better things, there’s certain things that just refuse to leave your mind. Just like stains of ink on some white clothes, they don’t ever leave. And if you happen to be as cursed as I am, there ends up being more ink than white on those clothes.

Misfortune has plagued me since I was a child, much like a seasonal cold that just refuses to go away. On one wintry morning, when I was eight, I had opened the garage door to find my then pet dog Jim motionless, still, and cold. That’s when I first learnt of death; the first of many that I would have to witness within the relatively short span of my nineteen years of life.

When I was twelve years of age, I lost my father. It was on the car ride back from my karate classes, it was me in the backseat and him driving, as another car drove right into ours. I survived the crash… He didn’t. His whole body had been crushed by the impact. I watched in tears, as people hurriedly pulled me away from the car, and as the leaking oil and flying sparks from torn wires caused the vehicle to explode into flames.

Two years after that incident, my brother died. It was from some sudden undiagnosed and unidentified illness. It was all too soon and unexpected. On the day of my brother’s funeral, I remember my mother’s words to me, still just as clear in my head as the very first time I heard them.

“You monster!!” she’d screamed, as she held onto his casket tightly, not wanting to let go, “You killed them all, it’s your fault. You’re the one who should’ve died”

I remember the tears flowing from her eyes, the hoarseness in her voice, and pain in her face, and at the time, I felt utterly helpless, griefstruck, and alone. Her sisters grabbed her and pulled her away from the casket, and some distant relative of mine was given custody of me.

In any case, that was the last time I ever spoke to my mother. I received word a month or so later that she had jumped off the rooftop of the apartment building we used to live in.

Needless to say, my life from that point on, became yet more miserable. In every moment of quiet that crept into my everyday, I could hear those last words of hers echoing within my head. In due time, I started believing that myself, as well. I really should have been the one to die. I stole their lives from them. And that I shall continue to make everything worse for those around me, as long as I continue existing. But, I am way too much of a chicken to kill myself.

It’s not that I never had any thoughts of that sort, or that I never tried putting an end to it. I did, and I tried, on more than one occasion, as I would get myself into situations that would more or less guarantee a swift end to my life, but I would back out at the very last second.

That’s until two years ago, when I finally thought to myself that enough is enough, and this time I would finally do it. I stood at the Commercial Central Bridge overlooking the rapidly flowing waters of the river Precretoria. As I was clumsily trying to make my way through the guard railings on its side to stand on the edge, I felt someone pull me back. I lost the balance off my feet, and tumbled, bumping right into the woman who saved my life. I turned my face back, to see the face of the person who had interrupted my suicide, but before her countenance could even fully register in my brain, I felt a sharp sting on my cheek, as I fell backwards with the impact of her slapping me.

“Are you fucking stupid?” she yelled at me. I looked up to see her face. She was beautiful, but in that moment, whether that be due to her saving my life, or due to the tears that started to blur my vision a little, she appeared to me like an angel the heavens had sent down to stop me from doing something stupid.

I was no religious man, but right then, I’d really thought that maybe there was a God up there who was looking out for me, and that my time of suffering had finally come to end. Maybe it wasn’t me who was responsible for all the ink stains on the white laundry. Maybe… Maybe I could live a happy life too if I wanted… That’s what I thought when she agreed to go out to dinner with me the next day as my thank you to her. And, that’s what I thought when she agreed to be my girlfriend, when I asked her out a month or so later.

Why is it then that I’m standing in front of a grave with her name on right now? Why do I have to leave the flowers on the headstone that has “Maria Blove” inscribed on it? Why can’t I just leave the flowers in her soft hands as I look at the smile on her face, and listen to her voice chiding me for wasting money on such unnecessary trifles again?

Why does everybody I love end up dying?

Why am I still alive?

—

I got up from my chair, arching my spine backwards to pop my stiff joints. I walked up to the printing machine, pulling out the warm pages it had freshly spat out. I flipped them over, reviewing them one last time, before handing them in at the Editor’s desk.

I walked out of the office, thinking of myself as lucky for getting to leave early. I yawned a little, checking the watch on my wrist. A quarter to six? Not too bad… I thought to myself. I had to work a lot of overtime the past couple of days, causing me to pull all nighters. I can finally sleep tonight.

The streets I passed through were just starting to get busier and livelier by the minute. The bureau that I report at, is located quite close to the pleasure district. Something about getting the news straight from the source or whatever.

Any case, I decided to stop by at the small ramen stand in the corner. I sat down on the small wooden bench positioned less than three feet away from the boiling pot. I put in my order, the usual, shoyu broth with nori, egg and naruto on top. As the master served up my order after a few minutes of waiting, I wasted no time to dig right in.

After downing the bowl of the usual cheap ramen, I thanked the master, leaving the cash on the counter. I walked to the other side of the crossroads that leads to the Metropolitan Area, where my place is. Oh… It suddenly occurred to me, I need to go pay Doc a visit soon… I was supposed to have done that two weeks ago…

I was lost in a train of my thoughts, but that train abruptly came to a screeching halt, soon as my eyes fell on a little girl carelessly crossing the road, as there was a car speeding straight her way. With no time to think, I jumped in front of the car, trying to cover the girl and protect her. The world seemed to slow down around me, every single fleeting moment seemed to last for hours, as I felt my arms wrap around her, pushing her forward, the sudden and hard impact of the speeding car landing straight against my backside. I shut my eyes, as I had braced for impact, and rolled over to the side, the girl still in my arms. My head throbbed, I felt my consciousness flow out along with the incessant blood that oozed out. I somehow opened my eyes, as I felt people rush from around and lift me up, I could hear them calling the ambulance hurriedly. My eyes were fixed on the little girl who lay on the road in a puddle of blood, I could see the people gasp, pressing their fingers against her neck and wrist furiously.

I couldn’t help but let out a chuckle, “And of course… I still live…”

Tears streamed down my face, mixing with the blood from my wounds, as I struggled to free myself from the grasp of the people around. I thanked them as I told them to take me to the clinic two blocks up. “I have a peculiar condition I suffer from, and he’s the only one who can treat me,” I explained to them, before I lost consciousness.

—

“Oh you’re finally awake huh?” I heard the familiar voice of the doctor, as my eyes slowly opened to find myself lying on the bed in his clinic.

“Don’t move,” he said with a firm voice, as his form appeared into view. His slicked back dirty blond hair, paired with his trimmed yet thick facial hair, gave him a dignified look.

“What time is it…?” I whispered to him, looking up at the pale grey ceiling of his clinic.

“A bit after three in the night, you’ve been out cold for nine hours or so… How are you feeling?”

“Like shit. Yet another person dead due to my fault, Doc.”

The doctor lightly patted my head, “It’s not your fault”

“IT’S ALWAYS MY FAULT!” I screamed, as tears made their way back to my eyes yet again, and I started sobbing inconsolably.

“Well, yeah… It kind of is your fault still, for not coming here sooner. This was bound to happen, Will. I was just being nice to you. Why did you not take the shot you were supposed to have taken on November 28th?”

“I was busy with this investigation for work so I figured I’d take it later… And then I forgot…”

“And because of your forgetfulness, yet another person has died. How’s that make you feel?”

“I’m… Oh god… Just kill me already”

I could hear the doctor sigh, as he stood at my side. “Sit up. You should be able to, now.”

I did as he said, and I indeed could, the pain seemed to have almost subsided. I felt his warm embrace around me. I heard his voice, soft and caring, as he said, “Never say that again. You’re still alive for a reason. What that reason is, that’s for you and those around you to figure out. There’s a lot of things in this world that go beyond reason or logic, you’re one of those things, William. You’re necessary…”

I sniffled, as my tears died out little by little.

“That’s a good boy, come on. Just remember to come back again on the scheduled day to get your shot, and take your meds regularly, and everything should be just fine.”

“Thank you Dr. Faust. I appreciate it,” I said.

“Just call me Jude, we’re not that far apart in age, I’m only six years older than you are.”

“That’s still a pretty big age difference, you know…” I laughed lightly…

“There we go,” he smiled kindly, “Keep that smile on your face. Remember, it’s not your fault. You’re just as much of a victim as the girl was.”

I didn’t say anything to him, but his choice of words was a bit perplexing to me. Did he mean to say patient? Because victim would imply… Well…

“Lie back down, Will. You still need rest, you can leave in the morning.”

—

I was starting to get tired of waiting outside the graveyard. I stood on the small bench below a ginormous Katsura tree, with its bare and empty winter branches. As my target finally made his way out of the cemetery, I made my move.

“Hello, there good sir. Happy Saturday… Or not so happy, I guess, since you were just standing in a graveyard… Whoops, my bad… Any case, I’d like to have a chat with you.”

The man looked me dead in the eyes as he opened his mouth slightly, “I don’t know who you are, but please leave me alone. I’m not in the mood for this right now. Also, please don’t steal the narration from me, this is supposed to be my chapter”

“Aight bro, my bad”

—

I took a good look at the man that stood in front of me, he was a bit over six feet tall, maybe even six feet one. He had messy hair, and pierced ears, with eyes that seemed sharp and alert like a hawk. Underneath his silly demeanour, I could sense a dangerous man that shouldn’t be messed with. Given his outfit consisting of a full three piece black suit that seemed like a uniform, I could make an educated guess that he belonged to some underground agency, probably affiliated with the government, judging by his nonchalance.

“You’re William Korspole, right? Junior reporter at Crater Daily?” he asked me, as he fiddled through the pockets of his trousers, digging out a plain white business card. Before I could ask him any questions, he continued speaking as he said, “I’m Beiker, I work at PRECIPICE. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.” He extended his hand forwards, to shake mine.

What is going on? What is this guy’s deal? What is this PRECIPICE thing he mentioned?

Multiple questions cropped through my mind, as I shook his hand, accepting his card which had the name “Liahan Beiker” on it. Next to his name it said, “P.R.E.C.I.P.I.C.E. Division 8, Second Lieutenant.” A lieutenant? Is this some sort of army? I thought, as I flipped the card the other way around to see the neatly embossed insignia of a raven.

Raven!?

That’s when it occurred to me. So that’s what PRECIPICE is… I had heard the rumours for a good while, and right now I was face to face with the real deal, one of the ravens… I could not let this chance slip. I don’t know what this guy wants from me, but… I can use this opportunity to dig more about the ravens, as well as their prey.

Finally, all of this city’s secrets shall be finally unraveled before me… is what I thought… Oh how wrong I was to have not realised any sooner as to how massive the can of worms that I was opening here was…

> To be continued

Author's Note:
This chapter's title is taken from Edgar Allan Poe's "The Raven", which seemed only fitting given that the story takes place in December, as well as that the imagery of Ravens will be a recurring thing. This "PRECIPICE" group's insignia seems to be the raven, a symbol often associated with prophecy, calamity, and insight. I love that poem, by the way. I read it first when I was in 8th grade, and to this day it remains to be one of my favourite poems ever.

Thank you to everyone who read yesterday's as well as today's chapter, and I shall be looking forward to your continued support in the days to follow!!