Arc 2 - Chapter 4: He ... Doesn't Smell

(Quintiles 29, 59 / 3:50PM)

“What do you mean we’re leaving Lagefor?! I just bought a house for me and Ellie!”

“Unless you have a death wish then get the hell out of there! You and that goddamn cat!”

A young blonde haired man spoke through a telephone. Having it right up to his ear, he let his sharpened eyes low to the wooden table.

Next to him was a cat-girl two years younger than him, who had brown hair and perked up ears. Her hands slightly shaking, she had them placed softly onto his shoulders.

“Then where should we go?!”

“Just get to the ranch at Haxouburg. You can follow that simple rule, right feline fucker?”

Shaking the phone violently, bits of metal creaked the more he tightened his grip. Moving her arms and hands, she had them wrap around his chest, and made a soft purr as she closed her eyes. All the air that he trapped in his lungs … seemingly blew out.

Loosening the grip with the phone, he cleared his throat with watered eyes.

“… Yes father…”

Hanging up the phone, he still had his phone raised up to his face. In an instant, he slammed the poor metal device onto the mainframe base, leading to his arm to shake erratically. Breathing heavily, he stared blankly at the desk, as Elizabeth continued to purr and hold him.

“It's ok Johnny … If we have to go, we have to go.”

“You know how the ranchers treat beast-humans … if we go back to Haxouburg…”

“I can handle myself.”

Letting go of Johnny’s chest, she walked around face to face in front of him. Her brown eyes gazing at his tall height, she clasped her hands, and looked up to his gray eyebags beneath his lower eyelids.

“We could work things out together like always. All we have to do is listen to your father.”

“But that’s the problem Ellie … he tells one thing and asks for another. At this rate, I feel like I could never leave my family.”

Looking down at the wooden floor, his eyes shadowed by the strands of his blonde hair. Seeing him sulk, she extended her hands, and clasped them onto his pale and cold cheeks.

Rubbing her thumbs along his silk skin, she could sense all that exhaustion just by smelling his breath. Wanting to cry, he kept them in, his eyelids enacting like dams on the verge of collapsing.

“It’s ok…”

She let go of his face, and wrapped her arms around his waist. Trapping him with her hug, she nudged her right cheek onto Johnny’s muscular yet slim chest … as a couple of tears rolled out from her.

“We’re going to be ok…”

In return, Johnny wrapped his arms around her waist, and slumped his chin onto her shoulder. Clutching her tightly, he stared at a singular map of the country of Haxouburg, the country to the South.

With the map full of towns and cities, there was a specific railroad line looping around the country.

“We’ll have a better future … I promise you that …”

He shed out a singular tear from his right eye, as his shadowed eyes resumed to light.

‘Even if my family drops dead.’

________________________________________________________

(Quintiles 29, 59 / 5:56PM)

“So you went to a diner after you found her … explains why both of you took so long. You weren’t followed, correct?”

“Yes. I checked in behind me the entire time.”

Boris, Jenny, David, Jerry, and Loraine stood in the back of the dimly lit room. Boris, whose body began to shake, turned his head to Loraine. Her run in with the old man unfading, she continued to sweat and clam her hands and body in a pungent odor.

‘Jenny said it was an old man that spooked Loraine … but is it this bad?’ thought Boris.

Jenny held Loraine’s left hand, all the while the teen girl looked down. David and Jerry looked at one another, and gave each other a nod once they began their walk toward her. Putting his right knee on the ground, he had his face leveled with hers.

“Did you know what the old man looked like? Appearance wise?” Said David.

Loraine kept her lips sealed.

Feeling her hand quiver vigorously, Jenny let her thumb rub against the teen girl’s knuckles. Trying to calm her quaking body, Jenny directed her eyes at Boris, and took a couple of steps forward.

“He looked to be in his mid 50s. From what I can remember, he wore metal glasses, a weird white robe and sandals. Oh! And he had green hair.” Said Jenny.

Boris rubbed his chin with his right hand, and tilted his head. Tapping his chin, the tips of his nails softly scraped against parts of his dead skin. Seeing him think into the abyss, all of them kept their focus on him, with some of them folding their arms above their stomachs.

‘Someone told me long ago about it … but who?’

A bead of sweat got inside one of his eyes, causing him to temporarily lose focus. Lowering his right hand, he jagged it into his pocket, and brought out a white handkerchief. Raising it to his right eyebrow, he scrubbed the area furiously … until he stopped.

‘Wait a minute…’

He moved the handkerchief away from his eye, and let the cloth roam free in his mind. Having his eyes unmoved from it, the rag began to softly shake.

‘He had a handkerchief … I think—’

Placing his other hand onto his eye, he covered it with the butt of his palm, as he garnished a buttload of pressure onto it … until it finally hit him.

“Oh … oh no …”

Boris took many steps back, before his back hit against one of the dressers. His legs buckled fast, his hands tried to grip against the wooden furniture, but even they failed.

Causing him to land on his bottom.

““““Boris!””””

Four of them ran toward him. With their excessive strength, they helped Boris get up, as the old man couldn’t find the strength within his chubby legs.

“Hey you ok? What happened?” Questioned Jerry.

Continuing to be drenched with sweat, he couldn’t even find the strength to breathe normally. Bringing out a little inhaler from his pocket, he placed it firm into Boris’ mouth. Clicking on one of the buttons, much needed air sweeped into his black tarred lungs.

“Hey, talk to us. Did you figure out who he was?”

Pulling the inhaler out, David had his hand on Boris’ shoulder. Lifting his head upward, his face remained ghostly pale, as his breathing returned slowly.

“He’s the weakest of the generals … pants … Joseph … pants … told me all about them…”

—“Don’t spoil it for them.”—

They heard a voice … behind them.

Out of a large cabinet, burst free a skinny and frail young man. His hair shaded in pitch black, his skin as pale as snow, he had everything that made him human, as he wore a normal soldier uniform.

“Boris! Get—”

All of them smelt the putrid odor from the man. Leaping toward them in slow motion, the three of them noticed black tar dripping from the corners of his eyes, causing David to hesitate from the smell.

Getting past them, the man snuck behind Boris, and tightened his feeble arms around Boris’ neck. Time resuming again, they walked backward as the man held Boris hostage. David’s hands twitched, with a vein popping out from his right eyelid.

‘His odor is too much … but why …?’

Tar oozed from the man’s ears, while he placed his right hand onto his bony cheek. Tilting his head to the right, his eyes remained hungry at Jerry.

“Long time no see Jerry. Remember me?”

Jerry pulled out his AR from his jacket, with his right hand firm on the grip. Having his left hand on the handguard, he pointed the barrel straight at the man’s head, leaving the man to let off an ugly smirk. Everyone saw his rotting teeth, which reeked of yellow and black.

“You still don’t remember? Remember that time when you were a rook? When we saved those kids?”

His gun began to shake, but he swayed his head and kept his aim steady. Unable to back down, the man began to walk forward, as he still had Boris hostage.

Everyone had their weapons on standby, with most of them pointed at the man. Once he was two to three meters in front of Jerry, he slightly looked down at him, all the while Boris remained silent.

“Remember when you let me die?”

He took a step back with widened eyes; and lowered his gun to the floor.

“No way… Pedro?”

“Ah … now you remember…”

—The front door burst open—

Flying halfway through the room, the door crashed onto the furthest couch which Boris usually sat on. The door itself broke in half, with it being bent like a broken popsicle stick.

Everyone turned their eyes behind, as they saw a dark silhouette standing menacingly at the door frame. Even Pedro saw the figure, leading him to let out a small sigh.

“Late to the party like always, Kenichi.”

“What did you say?”

“W-What…?”

The figure stepped into the room, and upon entering, everyone configured his face and clothing.

“What the hell…” Muttered David.

The man wore all black, while having a bandana covering his mouth. Having ginger hair, it was all over the place, along with him having a light tone complexion. His eyes blue, his height being the same as Jerry’s, his body type was similar to Luke’s, but slightly muscular.

The ginger-haired man looked at everyone with soulless eyes. Their hands quaking from the sight, David and Jenny acted as if they had seen a ghost.

“K-Ken … Ken…”

“How are you still alive…?”

Tears rolled down Jenny’s cheeks, as the spiked frying pan she wielded shook intensely. Hyperventilating, she clutched her chest with her left hand, while she gripped the handle of the pan with her right.

David couldn’t aim at him. His eyes wide and his teeth clattering, he shook his head repeatedly as his vocals strained evermore. So much so … he couldn’t contain them any more.

“What is this!?” Yelled David.

Loraine sniffed the air, and noticed one unique feature compared to him and the man holding Boris hostage.

“He … doesn’t smell …"