Arc 3 - Chapter 50: Purple Liquid

(Reverence 5, 59 / 12:24PM)

All the Pacithiests soldiers huddled in the garden. They paid no mind to the scorching sun, as the rays danced on their brown clothing.

Most of them tidied up their weapons, ranging from shotguns to rifles. And in the center of it all, was an old man who glistened his eyes on his own subordinates. Seeing that they were attending to their duties, it was a preparation for the upcoming rescue.

Glancing at the second story building, he couldn’t foresee, since the rays of the sun were blocking his eyes. But inside that building…

“That boy is still asleep!?”

“What do you expect? With that type of beating, I’m surprised he wasn’t put in a coma.”

Inside the marbled floor room, were a sibling duo who stood in front of a bed. On that bed, laid a young man with light brown hair, whose breaths were shallow. White bandages cast around his body, his face was swollen purple.

Pressing her hand onto his forehead, she felt the warmth that he radiated.

“Boy sure has it in him.”

“So how is he going to lead when he looks like… this. Why did he have to precipitate in that spar…”

Pulling back her hand, she pushed it into her pocket, while her other laid on her side. With the two of them staring at Luke, he slept so silently that not a single groan mumbled his throat. And with the rays of the sun glowing his skin, Pacifica exhaled softly through parched nostrils.

“Yeah, we really should’ve thought this through. I don’t know when he’s going to recover.”

“But I think we found a solution.”

Because the door was already opened, the two of them turned around to see a cowboy walking in. His boots squeaking against the marble, he had in his hands a wooden box, its size small statured. Being squared, its dimensions were all the same, and the wood was polished to almost perfection.

Reaching the sibling duo, he extended his arms out.

“David…”

“Take it son. These vials will heal Luke in no time.”

“Vials?”

“They’re purple liquid.”

Grabbing the box with sweaty hands, Christian used his left to hold the base, while his right opened the lid. Pushing a single button, its hatch opened, leaving four to five vials of pure liquid. All lined up and organized, there was also a syringe on the side of the box.

“I think I heard of purple liquid, but I never know the full extent of its uses.”

“Purple liquid is high in price, so not many people have access to it. Because they’re so expensive, we could only use them for the worst of cases.”

Pulling out vial after vial, he clocked his eyes on the glass that kept the purple inside. From the way it was manufactured, Christian nodded at the handiwork, but laid the box on Luke’s bed.

Having one of the vials in his hand, he glanced down at the syringe still inside the box.

“But what’s with the syringe?”

“When taking purple liquid, you could swallow the liquid like water, or vaccinate yourself. I heard the taste is bitter, very bitter, but it only eliminates the pain, not the wounds.”

“So drinking it pretty much numbs the nerves.”

“Precisely.”

With one hand on the vial, his other grabbed the syringe with care. As the two objects felt light, he kept the lid closed on the glass. Staring at Luke, he glanced at the syringe that also glimmered in the sun.

But his right hand shook, and his fingers followed suit.

“And I’m guessing vaccinating yourself with it heals everything.”

“But if you go that route, it comes with a lot of pain. Tell me son, what is the worst pain you ever felt?”

“I guess getting kicked in the nuts.”

“Well once the liquid enters your body, the nerves malfunction by a power of ten. You feel all sorts of pain. Torture, a beating, a stabbing; everything. There’s a reason why it’s used for the worst of cases.”

He kept his boots glued to the floor.

If he pushed the syringe in Luke’s body, it would make Luke feel every bit of pain imaginable. But, he knew out of everybody Luke needed that shot, and the purple liquid was a means to help him. And yet, Christian’s hands shook.

David walked behind, and had his hands in his pockets. Keeping them there, he exhaled gruffly from his mouth.

“Don’t worry son. Him taking the syringe will heal all the swelling.”

“I know… but how did you acquire this? The box, the vials, if you said it was expensive… then—”

“It was I who acquired them.”

A woman came through the oak door, as her footsteps were silent like David.

The three of them turning around, they saw Iris walking right up to them. Her hair glowing its radiating purple, her cold eyes locked onto David. Pulling his hands from his pocket, he folded his arms right beneath his chest.

“Then how? I didn’t want to question you earlier, but I need to know. Who did you get these from?”

“A man gave them to me. He wore sweatpants and a black hoodie, and from the way he presented himself… he wasn’t from this country.”

‘Black hoodie? Sweatpants? Don’t tell me…’

Christian and Pacifica looked at one another, and David stared at the floor with quivering eyes. The strands of his hair staining his forehead, he used his right hand to tilt his cowboy hat up. Pushing and swerving his hair, he lowered his hat, and cleared his throat once more.

“When did he give it to you?”

“It was after I regained consciousness from my fight. He appeared right in front of me, like he was already watching me sleep. I tried to fight him… but it was like I couldn’t move, nor fight with my arms or hands. What that man has, isn’t strength; but power. Power even I can’t fathom…”

Iris recalled the events, but it was all fastened in blurred lines. Her fists were balled, yet her legs felt infused like jello. As the blood in her veins froze over, she wanted to strike… but a cold sweat ran down her back.

Shaking her head, she looked over at the box that was polished so magnificently. Balling her hands, she turned toward the cowboy right next to her.

“Do you know that man?”

David turned his eyes toward the window, his pupils taking in the garden that shone under the sun. And inside that garden, was the vast amount of soldiers all wearing brown clothing.

A second memory flashed before him.

“You could say that…”

But that second memory faded, once his eyes took in the outside.

He saw them fulfill their tasks, ranging from moving crates to meddling with their rifles. And in the center, Kenji had his hands behind his back, glazing at their heavy work. Observing each soldier like how a drill instructor would, David darkened his eyes…

“Christian. Has Luke ever told you about someone watching him? Like someone was keeping tabs on him?”

“Wait…”

Scratching the back of his head, Christian gazed his eyes to the marbled floor squeaking his boots. Using his nails to cleave off the dandruff, a low groan rumbled within his throat. Balling his right hand… he finally remembered.

[... I feel watched.]

Right before Luke and his group were sent off, Christian questioned Luke regarding Sean’s antics. He remembered the way he stared at him, the way he held those emotions in his cheeks.

[I don’t even know if anyone is watching me… but I just feel it.]

Lowering his hand to his side, Christian nodded back and forth upon those words. With his other hand, he placed it into his pocket, while straightening out his throat for saliva to run down. Keeping his vocals marinated, he coughed once, before moving his eyes onto the cowboy.

“He told me about some man, some figure that lurked in the shadows. From what I can remember, he felt that feeling ever since his escape from the courthouse. That was all he told me.”

David kept silent, as the sun shone onto the back of his neck. His cheeks swelled in that darkness, that lonely abyss worsened the more he thought.

‘So he’s the one behind that message…’

Before walking toward the door.

Having his eyes fixated on it, he didn’t even wave or say goodbye as he calmly left. Without closing the door, they were down to three, as Iris felt her right hand ball into a fist. Not out of anger, but out of frustration that swelled in her stomach.

‘Why doesn’t he tell me anything?’

Moving her eyes toward the sleeping Luke, his side bang covered his right eye. Trailing his body, analyzing it with stern eyes, she began her walk toward his bed. Hearing her heels click against the marble, it wasn’t long before she stood to the side.

“So… Do we have to?”

“I suppose we shall. It’s the only way Luke can grow. Whether it be from pain, or from trial and error.”

Taking one of the glass vials, she snatched it from Christian’s hand, and twisted the cap counter-clockwise. Once she popped it open… the smell shrouded the room.

As if the liquid harbored a malicious scent, her throat, nostrils, mouth; everything shriveled. It was like a skunk having dysentery on a wet summer day. The musky, manure-like, immediately made Iris clock her head away.

“Jesus! That thing stinks!”

“Gags… gags…” Pacifica took a few steps back, and gagged in a corner as the smell rumbled her vocals.

“But it’s our only choice.”

With one hand on the vial, she used her other to bring out a syringe from the box. Pushing the needle into the liquid, it was chock full of purple.

Until her gag reflex began to kick in. Averting her head away, her eyes reddened with water latching on them. But with a gust of air, she puffed her cheeks, and kept her mouth full of air, rather than content.

Taking a few steps forward, he pushed the needle into Luke’s forearm. Stabbing straight through his cast, it was like soft stone, and it wasn’t long before she pulled out.

“If we want him ready for the fight, we have to overdose him.”

Injecting the needle with the same liquid, from the same vial, the smell worsened in the air. Even though her forehead and cheeks strained with wrinkles, she nonetheless pushed the needle into his cast once again.

“Consider it lucky he’s still asleep. Otherwise, he would feel the pain of a thousand crucifixions.”