Volume 3 Chapter 16 Night of Thunderstorm

Chapter 16 Night of Thunderstorm

I

Tschimuo’s wife and son had come home.

It was time for dinner. Tschimuo cooked the dinner for them.

At the dinner table, his wife and his son were watching their elementalical spheres. Their hollow eyes fixed deadly on the visions of the tortured prisoners. They were all whispering dirty words to reproach the prisoners.

They looked like zombies without souls. They were already dead. They were cureless and nothing could save them.

In the old days, Tschimuo, his wife and his son always chatted happily while eating the dinner. His son would talk about those interesting things that had happened in the school, and his wife would talk about her job.

However, everything was different now. The atmosphere in this house had become stuffy and suffocating.

Sometimes Tschimuo would lose his temper and curse this world. Sometimes he would even slam the table, but he couldn’t change anything. His son and wife thought that he had become difficult to deal with.

Only Tschimuo himself knew that it wasn’t his fault. It was the fault of those elementalical spheres. They had corrupted people’s souls, just like drugs.

He used to try to tell people that those spheres were no different with drugs, and they would make people violent and evil, but people treated him as a hilarious clown in the circus.

To most people, he was just a cynic who would be finally eliminated by this society. No one would remember his success as the ex-commissioner-general.

What was worse, he almost had repugnance to everything in this society. He thought that this world had rotten … Every friend and family member of him knew that he would end up in the asylum one day. He was the cureless one.

“ꡃꡡ ꡜꡧ ꡙ,” [I’m done,] whispered Tschimuo. He had had enough of those sleazy popular catchphrases and dirty words that his families whispered to the prisoners through the spheres.

His wise used to be an elegant charming lady and his son used to be a cute lovely boy. Now, their souls had rotten irreversibly.

He walked back to the second floor and stormed in his toilet. He began to vomit. Everything that he ate during this dinner was vomited out of his mouth.

There was some scarlet blood in his puke. He always knew that he was sick. He had seen the doctor and the doctor said that alcohol could make him happy.

He walked to the front of his wine cellar and took out a whole bottle of liquor. He began to drink it. The liquor streamed down along his throat. His throat was burning as if it had caught fire.

His stomach was burning too, as well as his intestine. Scorched by the liquor, he began to puke once again. He vomited out all the liquor that he had drunk along with some blood. His head was aching and his heart was thumping madly like a running leopard.

“ꡃꡡ ꡗꡠꡧ ꡛꡝꡞ ꡙ! ꡃꡡ ꡗꡠꡧ ꡛꡝꡞ ꡙ!” [I’m dying! I’m dying!] he told himself.

He wished that his wife and his son would go upstairs to check if he was OK, but they wouldn’t. Their attention had been complete drained by those elementalical spheres. To them, the virtual world inside elementalical spheres was much more important than the real world.

Tschimuo was valueless to his son. He was not a good father. He was decadent, and he was a loser.

Tschimuo was also valueless to his wife. He was not a good husband. He always got angry, and he had bad temper, because he hated all the things in this world.

He wondered if it was his fault or not. Tiredly and weakly, he walked to the front of one of his windows in his house. Looking outside, he could see the grey clouds gathering in the high sky. There was going to be a great thunderstorm tonight.

Now he knew what he really wanted to do. He was born to bring chaos to this world. It was time to get mad. It was time to fight against the corruption of this world …

II

He walked up to the attic. The Normanians were there. They were looking at the grey thunderclouds in the sky too through the window. The city had been wrapped by a layer of thick mist, inside which the whole world was darkened.

With twilights devoured by the thunderclouds, the world was immersed in blackness. Rain was pouring down from sky, becoming the prelude of the thunderstorm.

Rainwater was streaming down on the surface of the window, and raindrops were beating against the window like drumbeats.

The attic was rather dark, since lighting it up might make Tschimuo’s wife and son notice the presence of the four.

“Hello,” greeted Floria when Tschimuo climbed to the attic.

“I’m here to check whether you’re all OK,” said Tschimuo. He closed the door of the attic and locked it. The smell of alcohol filled the air in the attic. Obviously, Tschimuo had been drunken due to the liquor.

“We’re fine. Thank you. By the way, won’t your wife worry about you locking yourself in the attic? And are you OK? You look so drunken …” asked Floria with concern.

“She won’t. She can spend the whole night playing with her elementalical sphere, and she won’t notice me. Even if she notices me, she won’t be curious about what I am doing here. To my family, I am no different with those madmen in the asylum,” complaint Tschimuo, his voice trembling because of alcohol.

“Your family thinks that you’re mad? But why?” pursued Aisling.

“Exactly. In fact, when the whole world is crazy, the sober ones will be sent to the asylum. I don’t know whether I am sober, but I am sure that you four are sober, and that’s why the constables are hunting you. You’re wanted criminals in Normania, Desertia and Reauneia, right?” questioned Tschimuo.

“That’s true,” Floria nodded.

“In fact, I want to be criminals too. I want to kill people! I want to slaughter those abominations. I want to see blood! I can’t resist my impulse to kill! I am bloodthirsty! You four have killed people, right? What does killing make you feel?” queried Tschimuo, his voice twisted in hatred.

“Wait, we don’t like killing … It is not moral … Though we have killed someone too, those we kill are killers themselves. Grey Factory has killed lots of dwarves while Macchina Gloriosa has killed lots of assassins. We never take the lives of innocent ones,” explained Floria.

“Neither do I! I want to kill those who create the Internection, that hell on earth. They have corrupted the brains of …. Sorry …” Tschimuo began to retch.

He walked up to a empty bucket in the attic and began to vomit there. Nauseating puke was pouring down from his throat. The smell of his vomit filled the whole attic. It was disgusting …

“I’m sorry. I’ve drunk too much liquor. I’m sorry about those words. They’re just joking … They’re just angry words …” whispered Tschimuo.

Whispering in Reauneish, he threw the whole bucket of vomit out of the window. With a ding-dong, the bucket crashed onto the ground in the street.

“Now, continue your story please,” pleaded Tschimuo.

“Fine,” Stasha nodded.

In the dark attic, the four continued telling their legendary story to Tschimuo, who was a curious but patient listener.

Clearly, Tschimuo’s life wasn’t happy. He had been through lots of unhappiness. However, he didn’t give up and he was eager to fight against the dark side of this world, though his eagerness might turn into anger and violence finally.

He always said that the souls of people had been corrupted by the elementalical spheres. Though he didn’t’ watch elementalical spheres, he was a victim too. He had lost his sober soul too. Fortunately, he could find his soul of kindness back when listening to the story of the Normanians.

The thunderstorm began. In the distance, surges of lightning were descending from the sky, bringing a flash of white light along with rumbling sounds of thunder.

After about two hours, Stasha finished telling the story.

Tschimuo looked at Aisling.

“So you’re going to … You’re going to die, right?” asked Tschimuo with concern.

“Yes,” Aisling nodded.

“Aren’t you afraid?” pursued Tschimuo.

“I’m not afraid, because my sacrifice will be meaningful, and … I’ve already spent lot of cheerful unforgettable time with my friends. We’ve been through a lot of things together. I have learnt what friendship means to humans and I have experienced what love feels like … That’s enough for me … My life worths it, so that I am now ready to face my final destiny,” drawled Aisling.

“Final destiny … Sacrifice … Meaningful … You’re right … I am ready too …” muttered Tschimuo.

III

It was late at night.

The four were sleeping in the attic of Tschimuo’s house. The room was filled with the sounds of raindrops beating against the window. Those sounds were beautiful and rhythmic, hypnotized by which, the four soon fell asleep.

In her dream, Stasha was adventuring inside an abandoned asylum.

With her heart thumping in fear, Stasha was walking in a dark corridor, on the sidewall of which there was bloodstain. The air was brimming with smell of corpses.

“Help! Help!” Stasha heard someone scream.

She ran to the source of the sound, and see a nightmarish scene came into her sight: a dishevelled man was dismembering a corpse. He was drinking the blood from the corpse.

“Who are you!” demanded Stasha bravely. The Spring of Sylvana was streaming inside her veins.

That unkempt man raised his head.

It was the mad face of Tschimuo!

“I want to kill! I want blood! I am bloodthirsty!” roared Tschimuo.

Stasha woke up, her clothes wetted by cold sweat. Her heart was still thumping and she was panting in fear.

“What happened?” asked Floria quietly with concern.

“You’re still awake? It’s late at night,” whispered Stasha.

“I was awakened by your scream. Is that a nightmare?” explained Floria.

“Yep. It’s horrible … Well … I want to pee right now, isn’t there any toilet in this attic?” complaint Stasha.

“For sure no. You can pee out the window,” proposed Floria.

“Oh! Gross! I’d rather go downstairs to find the toilet,” commented Stasha.

“What if we’re discovered by Tschimuo’s wife or son?” asked Floria.

“Then I’ll knock her or him out … That Tschimuo is creepy. I don’t trust him,” replied Stasha.

“Neither do I. He is a little psychopathic,” consented Floria.

“Yeah. Well, I am going to the second floor to find a toilet. Do you want to go with me?” invited Stasha.

“Are you still afraid of dark?” giggled Floria quietly.

“Yeah, a little,” Stasha nodded.

She looked at Stasha and a weird kind of desire to protect her crawled through her spine.

“Fine, let’s go,” commanded Floria.

The two climbed down the ladder to the second floor, leaving Aisling and Yanni sleeping in the attic. Quietly, Floria opened the door of the toilet. No one was in there.

“Well, don’t you think that this mirror looks weird?” inquired Floria while Stasha was urinating.

“I’ll check out,” Stasha took out her tunning fork and began to hit it. Soundwaves began to resonating in this whole room. Stasha closed her eyes and the soundwaves streamed back into her ears. She sensed something behind the mirror.

“You’re right, Floria. There’s something behind this mirror, maybe a hidden room,” revealed Stasha.

Floria kicked the mirror apart and a secret tunnel came into her sight.

“I said, I didn’t trust Tschimuo. He was hiding something from us. He was not such simple,” murmured Stasha.

The two climbed through the secret tunnel and arrived at a hidden room.

It looked like a laboratory with all kinds of tubes, flasks and glass bottles.

“What is he trying to make? That Tschimuo is a madman! Seemingly my dream is predictive,” muttered Stasha.

“Something had gone wrong. Let’s wake up Aisling and Yanni. We have to leave here right now. It’s not a place to dawdle,” urged Floria.

IV

It was in the wee hours right now. The thunderstorm had ceased but the rain was still pouring down from the sky.

With an umbrella, Tschimuo was walking on the street. The drainage system of this city had stopped functioning because there was too much rainwater, and the street had become like a river. Therefore, the shoes and sockets of Tschimuo had been soaked up with rainwater.

Quietly, Tschimuo arrived at the front door of the Internection. Under his black umbrella, Tschimuo looked like a dollop of mysterious shadow.

He opened the door of the house and walked inside. The words of Aisling were echoing in his brain.

“ꡃꡡ ꡂꡠꡃ ꡝꡟ ꡂꡦꡟ ꡛꡞ’ꡮꡞꡃ,” [I shall not be afraid of sacrifice,] He told himself over and over again.

He took off his shoes and sockets, which had been wetted by the rainwater. On barefoot, he walked to the second floor.

“ꡊꡝꡞꡃ’ꡊꡝꡞꡃ! ꡇꡞ ꡮꡞ ꡮꡟꡗ? ꡇꡞ ꡒꡗ ꡆꡠ ꡒꡧꡡ ꡮꡞꡏ?”[Wait! Who are you? What are you doing here?] someone called to him.

With his heart thumping madly, Tschimuo turned back. It was Tudius.

“ꡇꡞ’ꡜꡧ, ꡉꡟ’ꡊꡞ. ꡂꡠꡋ’ꡊꡧ ꡇꡞ ꡜꡝꡞꡋ ꡔꡟꡃ’ꡜꡞꡃ,”[Hello, Tudius. It’s my honour to meet you,] greeted Tschimuo, his teeth clenching because of anger.

“ꡄꡠꡏ’ꡊꡡ! ꡮꡞ ꡇꡞ! ꡇꡞ ꡒꡗ ꡒꡜꡠ’ꡙꡞ ꡒꡧꡡ ꡮꡞꡏ”[Tschimuo! It’s you! What are you doing here!] demanded Tudius.

Tschimuo didn’t say anything. Clenching his fists, he walked up to Tudius. He hated elementalical spheres. Those ugly purple balls had controlled the minds of people, corroded their brains and degraded them.

The source of all those sins were now standing in front of Tschimuo. He remembered those great old days, when his wife and son were amicable and easy to get along well with.

He could remember those unforgettable dinners when he and his family could chat happily about everything and share their lives to each other. Now, there would be no such kind of days anymore. His son and his wife had been addicted to elementalical spheres and their minds had been polluted by violence and bloodiness so much that nothing could save them.

Gathering his full strength, Tschimuo punched on the face of Tudius. The nasal bone of Tudius was broken by Tschimuo’s fist and blood was streaming down from his pathetic nostrils.

“ꡇꡞ ꡂꡡ ꡮꡞꡋ’ꡂꡞꡃ’ꡎꡞꡃ!”[You psychopath!] cursed Tudius. He punched back on Tschimuo’s head but the latter dodged and kicked Tudius to the ground.

They were both strengthened by the strongest form of earth elementium ray. Therefore, they were

Tudius was moaning in agony, while Tschimuo continued punching him on his head. Tudius’ head was broken and blood was streaming out from his eyes, noses, ears as well as mouths. The deafening scream of Tudius splat the air.

Though Tschimuo really wanted to torture Tudius right now, there was no time, so he left the scene and walked to centre room of the Internection, inside which lay a gigantic elementalical sphere, which was the nexus of all elementalical sphere.

He took off his clothes, inside which he had hidden ten bottles of explosive liquid which he made in his hidden room behind the mirror in the toilet of his house. He was going to blow up this room, the destruction of which would be a piece of earth-shattering news tomorrow.

All elementalical spheres were connected to this nexus. Without this nexus, the elementalical spheres would stop functioning.

He poured the explosive liquid on the ground and started to summon particles of materialized shadow into the liquid. With only one tiny sparkle of energy, this room would explode into dust and cinders …

When he was about to ignite the explosive liquid, Tudius stormed into the room.

“ꡉꡞꡃ’ꡜꡨ, ꡇꡞ ꡂꡡ ꡮ’ꡒꡝꡞ! ꡔꡟ’ꡂꡧꡡ ꡇꡞ ꡗꡞꡋ’ ꡎꡧ ꡆꡟꡃ’ꡮꡟ, ꡉ ꡜꡟꡗ ꡎꡧ’ꡆ ꡎꡞꡃ ꡮꡞ’ꡰꡃ ꡋꡋ’ꡗꡞ ꡛꡠꡃ’ꡛꡠꡃ ꡙꡠꡃ’ꡂꡞ ꡊꡞ ꡋꡝꡞꡃ’ꡙꡠꡃ! ꡔꡟ’ꡂꡧꡡ ꡇꡞ ꡆꡠ’ꡏꡧꡡ ꡒꡧꡡ, ꡆꡞꡃ’ꡂꡡ ꡅꡞꡃ’ꡮꡞ ꡜꡟꡗ ꡎꡟꡗ ꡰꡟꡮꡠ ꡉꡟꡋ’ꡏꡧꡡ!” [Stop, You fool! If you blow up the nexus, it will explode and release unimaginable amount of dark radiation! if you do this, the whole city would be devoured by the radiation!] shouted Tudius.

However, he was too late.

The energy released by Tschimuo’s mutant hand had touched the liquid. The explosive liquid was ignited.

Boom!

The Amethyst exploded!