Esper Chapter 13: Whiplash

Part 1

Morning rolled around, and just before the sun managed to break through the gray clouds, Vernon Marino sprung into his routine. A light workout, suit preparation, remaking his bed, a shower, and finally, drying off at the breakfast table while eating a meal. (Ahead of schedule!) He was pleased with himself. A quick glance of the calendar reminded Vernon of a task. (If I remember right…it’s Marisa’s birthday. I’ll make sure to have a card sent to her. Best to stay friendly with HR, after all.) Finished eating, he cast a cloud of telekinesis over the plate and utensils, then floated them off to the sink. An attempt to twist his radio’s knob, however, resulted in fumbling that accomplished nothing. (No dexterity, still.)

Vernon sat on his couch, comfortably watching the hands of his recently purchased grandfather clock tick by. Noting the time, he ringed a friend. “Hello…?” The raspy voice of a man yanked from his sleep crackled through the phone. “Vernon…dude, you don’t need to call me every day.”

“I know that. Just making sure you’re not moping around. You've been out of work for a month now, Rob.”

“…Give me a break, will you? Getting laid off is a bummer, man. Not everyone can bounce back from everything like you.”

“Hey now, if I can do something, everyone can. I’m just as normal as the next guy!” The irony wasn’t lost on Vernon, levitating his dress pants and shirt down onto the couch beside him. “I’m actually getting ready to head into town. You and the lady driving by Trenton any time soon?”

“Nah. I probably should look for a job before traveling anywhere. Why? Did you want to meet up? I would like to see this new girl you’re screwing around with.”

“It’s not…” Vernon paused, assessing their relationship. Still unsure of what to designate it as, he continued. “…just screwing around.”

“That’s a first.”

“You make me sound really bad.”

“What’s up? Is she special?”

“…Don’t know. Haven’t known a lady like Raquel before. This isn’t about me though.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Same old shit. Do you call all your friends from high school and pester them, or is it just me?”

“You’re my best friend, so I have an obligation to annoy you. Anyway, we’ll talk later. I’ve got work in an hour or so. Put in a job application, you lazy bum!” Vernon hung up and resumed prepping for work. After a meticulous skin care regimen, and slicking back his dark hair, he returned to sending out messages. [Hey, training tonight at 8! No ghosting this time!] The text was sent out to the survivors’ group chat. He didn’t expect any responses immediately, though followed up with a particular member personally. [Amala, you can’t keep missing work. I know things are hard, but you’re going to get reprimanded soon.]

[I’ll be there today.] Flat and without ceremony, Amala Singh’s response was swift.

[OK! We have a meeting at 9:30. Make sure to be ready.]

[Fine.]

[I’ll send over the notes!]

[OK.]

“…” Recalibrating to conversations with the direct and cautious Amala would take time. Electing to worry later, the busy man slipped into his suit and left home. After taking a seat and hitting the car’s ignition, a want for a more pleasant interaction overtook him. He could feel his heart flutter just hearing her yawn. “Morning! Didn’t wake you, did I?” Vernon phoned Raquel Childs.

“…Kind of…sorry Vernon, I’m not feeling great. Call me back later.” She hung up.

“…” That ill-fated day began on a sour note. “…*sigh*…” Vernon hoped it wouldn’t end on one.

Part 2

Morning rolled around. A cheerful tune and announcer called for her to get up! Those eyes begged to remain shut, yet the melody charmed them open! “Hey, Digi-I Megan Byte here! Let’s get the day started right! Load morning…start!” Rolling out of bed, routine kicking in, she moved to brush her teeth, comb her hair, gather clothes, and only broke stride when her aching shoulder was strained! “…ugh…” Amala Singh dropped to her knees and collapsed back onto the floor, eyes locked on the ceiling. “…” Tears streamed down her cheeks, as Amala struggled to wipe them away. “…I…I’m doing the right thing…right?!” The previous day not only weakened her resolve but nearly cost Amala her life and freedom! “Chelsea…I am, right?” Alone with only the plain white walls of her apartment to offer comfort, the isolated woman wept. “…D-darn it.”

Amala’s phone buzzed; signaling a text had come through. The message was to her group chat. [Hey, training tonight at 8! No ghosting this time!] Vernon messaged, with an eager smile adorning his face, Amala assumed. Almost immediately, another message. [Amala, you can’t keep missing work. I know things are hard, but you’re going to get reprimanded soon.] Was sent only to her.

[I’ll be there today.] Curtly and unconsciously, Amala replied.

[OK! We have a meeting at 9:30. Make sure to be ready.] He continued.

[Fine.]

[I’ll send over the notes!]

[OK.] A notification on the phone cut the conversation short. Anxiety rattled her; forum posts and updates flooded the screen! Amala had subscribed website feed for hunting down human traffickers, and all the other users were panicking! Fingernails dug into her seriously bruised shoulder, holding tightly with fear it may slip out of the socket. Haunting heat arose in a ring surrounding her. Images of the previous night flooded Amala’s head, unraveling what little composure remained! (Why do I keep feeling this way…? Please someone…) Filling the apartment with steam like a sauna, everything within range of that odd new power boiled, even the floor beneath Amala. Alone, her eyes met the phone screen, scrolling through contacts for any confidant, ally, or even just a friend. Nicolaus Thompson’s number, seeing that wound a pit up in her stomach. (…) Dejected with a mixture of unclear feelings, Amala tossed the device to her couch and began taking deep breaths. “I…I’m alone. I need to handle this like an adult.” The sweltering heat refused to subside. “Crud, why is it like this?!” Manipulating her telekinesis into a dome, she narrowly avoided the searing rouge haze all around. (Focus! Think of something! Anything nice…)

The phone, she attempted to grip the device with her powers yet failed to do so. Everything that passed through the stream of energy was singed black, and the tighter her fist clenched, the greater the heat rose! Scrambling about her own mind, Amala landed at her single emotional bedrock, again. Sasha’s firm hand patted her head, Patricia stroked her hair soothingly, Loran whispered empowering words, and Chelsea…hugged her bratty little sister unlike anyone else. Amala’s happy place, only reachable deep within her memories.

The heat finally faded and Amala calmed down. She looked around, seeing the walls damp with condensation, and a dark ring forming around her on the false hardwood floor. “…work.” She grabbed her phone, hot to the touch, and continued to get ready for the day.

Part 3

In a long purple and beige plaid skirt, cream cardigan and black side saddle bag, Amala stowed away in the corner of a quiet train. Despite multiple open seats, and few other patrons aboard, she stood. (Don’t stand out. Don’t stand out!) She thought, not realizing she’d garnered attention from some men in her cart. Even downplayed, her good looks were captivating.

Amala’s shoulder throbbed even under her phone’s minuscule weight. Attention divided between messages forwarded along, and train stops, the young assistant perused those emails’ contents. The second the door to her side opened, she unconsciously stepped off, only to realize it was the wrong station, and hastily jump back on!

Thoroughly embarrassed, when Amala’s stop finally came, she rushed off, certain to not repeat that mistake! “Oh, Amala, hello!” Someone called. Familiar with the feminine voice calling her, Amala turned to see an older, wider woman; the HR representative for her floor.

“…Hello…” Amala forced that little bit of interaction through the cracks of her awkward outer shell. Marisa flashed a massive grin across her round face, bright enough to blind the gray clouds smothering the sun overhead.

“It’s been a while since we spoke in person. How are things? Has the therapy been helping?”

“…Yes…” Amala shrunk away while masking her prominently bruised shoulder. (Shoot…I recognize this woman, but we’ve only spoken once!) As the two strolled away from the station, Amala frantically scoured her foggy mind for topics to chat about. “…Marisa.” There was nothing to grasp onto aside from the woman’s name and job!

“…Uh…” Even from a distance, the frustration was palpable to other pedestrians. Light beads of sweat grew on the well-dressed, seemingly injured, petite lioness’s forehead. “So…have you been watching anything interesting recently?” Marisa offered an olive branch in an attempt to better their, evidently, not great relationship.

“…” Despite walking alongside Marisa, Amala ruminated until that question reignited her brain! (…Ok! Perfect! I can tell her about what I was watching the other night!) She took a deep breath, feeling her shoulder ache again, preparing to speak. “D-” Her voice cracked. “Digital idol Megan Byte!” Shouting unintendedly, she spooked the HR rep who was happy to just have her say anything.

(That’s something my daughter watches, and so do most of her friends in elementary school. Is that popular with young people?) Marisa was at a loss, but noted remnants of a smile forming on the sullen young woman’s face. “Oh, I’ve heard of that! Lots of the music from that is played on the radio!”

“Really?”

“Yes! I guess the radio’s really only for us old folks now, huh?”

“Yeah, it is.” Amala’s surprising bluntness was a bit off putting. “I don’t like the radio, not enough classical! Just rock and rap all the time, boring.” They entered their building and got onto the elevator just as a message came in from Lidia, Amala’s therapist.

[Hello Amala. Could you stop by tonight?] She pouted, as if anyone aside from Marisa would see Amala doing so. [Finishing our conversation from before would be nice. I’d like to hear more.]

The doors sprung open to their floor, and several co-workers who idly chatted, until meeting with those fierce purple eyes. A noticeable flitch jolted through the crowd of workers, incentivizing them to disperse. “…Goodbye.” She quickly broke from Marisa and speed walked away! Though their desks were in the same direction, Amala elected to take a detour. Passing through a bustling computer data center, across a set of halls, and down a small flight of stairs, she walked by people only familiar with her in name and rumor. Her goal was in sight, a row of cubicles sat off to the side of a corridor. With a deep breath, she nonchalantly strolled down the line, purposely maintaining a false, casual look at her phone while her focus lay elsewhere.

First cube on the corner, an older woman sat. Without looking too hard, Amala spied the overly busy worker, with multiple documents and post-it notes plastered from wall-to-wall, discussing business over the phone. The next cubicle on the row sat empty; barren to an uncomfortable level. Rings of dust laid where appliances once sat, a chair with a sweat stain melted into the back haunted the cube. Then finally, she walked past the third cube, expecting to accidentally on purpose, stumble across Nicolaus Thompson. There was no one. Cubicle seemingly undisturbed all morning, Nicolaus was nowhere to be seen. “Oh, Nicolaus is that you?” From the cube behind him, an older man leaned out, bald head leading the way. “Um…you’re Amala Singh, right? Project manager assistant extraordinaire!” The warm smile lobbed in Amala’s direction was cut down with an icy glare. “I-if you’re looking for Nicolaus, he’s not in yet.”

“I wasn’t. I was just walking by.” Attempted deflection when Amala realized the row of cubes lead down to a wall with no exit. Embarrassed again, she quickly turned on her heels and speed walked away! (…Nicolaus isn’t in? Normally he’s in by 9. It’s about 9:20 now.) No messages, no read receipts, none of Vernon’s messages from the morning were seen by the absent technician. (I wonder if he’s still mad about yesterday…?) Absorbed in thoughts of the previous day, Amala shut out her surroundings.

“Amala, there you are!” Catching his assistant off guard entirely, Vernon rounded the corner! His arms were full of folders packed with documents. “Perfect timing! Let’s head over to meeting room 3 and set up!” He grabbed the small woman by the hand, and tugged.

“Ugh!” She winced in pain, dropping her bag and phone!

“Are you alright?”

“Y-Yes…”

“…You sure? You don’t look great.”

“I’m fine, Vernon!”

Part 4

Tree branches were a reminder those dreams; reaching out, accusing him, yet the idea of going to school throttled Vergil Trask with anxiety. Every inch of his mindscape was cluttered with paranoia. “Vergil!” His name suddenly being shouted nearly caused the teen to jump out of his worn down sneakers! Out through the leafless bushes emerged Harper Wolf, Vergil’s dearest friend. “What cha’ doing here, buddy?”

“…I-I…” Overlooking how Harper was able to locate him, Vergil intended to brood alone in the woods.

“Wanna’ skip class?”

“Huh?! O-Oh…no…I-I mean…”

“Homeroom ended a while ago, first period will probably be out soon too. If you aren’t around by lunch, everyone’s gonna’ notice and they’ll call your house.” Harper shivered. The sun’s rays couldn’t overcome winter’s remaining chill grasping ahold over Trenton.

“D-Dammit.”

(Doesn’t matter how far I am away from Vergil and the others, I can always hear their thoughts. Shit gets louder the closer I am, like a fucking metal detector?) Harper pandered for a second.

Meanwhile, Vergil loaded his things back into his backpack, murmuring. “…I dropped Wi-Wilhelmina off t-this morning. She was scared…”

“Scared? Of?”

“…Oh right. I-I never t-told…” Vergil considered what to say. Would he lie to his closest friend about the incident? “Wilhelmina…” Lie about Warren?

“…” Harper quickly scanned Vergil’s mind. He knew better than anyone what’d happened to Vergil’s little sister, but he wasn’t sure how much his best friend knew. (He still doesn’t know I was there. Thank fuck! He…lied to the police?! Fuck! Well…not worried about me, at least.) A smirk crept across Harper’s lips. (…I guess I feel kind of bad for him, so I’ll just try to be nice for the rest of the day!)

“S-she—” Still collecting his things from the ground while scrambling to make a choice, Vergil was falling apart! Harper reached out offering a hand in cleaning up.

“Well, you’re okay, right? She’s fine too, so it’s all good!” That smile directed at Vergil fell flat. Lying to the police, his sister’s trauma, getting yelled at by his father, and that paranoia, all contaminated any optimism Vergil could feel. (…He’s not thinking about my dad at all? Good.)

“…I lied…to the police.”

“Wha…?!” Truth burst free of Vergil’s fear logged chest! (Why did he tell me?!) Half of Harper was shocked, and the other half, angry.

“T-They came to my h-house…a-after what happened to W-Warren.” With each word Vergil sunk further down into the dirt, meanwhile Harper grew more alarmed!

(Is he going to tell me he killed Warren?! Do I want him to tell me this?! What does he expect me to do?!) Panic set in on Harper! (No! I don’t want to hear it!)

“I-I…K-killed…”

(Shut up!) Harper fed tons of words into Vergil’s head! Murderer, police, arrest, trust, hate, danger, all forced sideways into Vergil's mind, stifling any confidence, impeding his own thoughts!

“…” Again, Vergil was paralyzed; tongue tied in the worst possible way!

“…You know what…? Let’s forget it! Let’s get to class, yeah?”

“…S-sure.” Drops of blood leaked from Harper’s nose. “H-Harper, your nose!”

“Oh? Don’t worry about it! Come on, before someone notices that I’m gone too!” Harper pushed Vergil along as the two snuck under a nearby fence and crept back to the school grounds.

Part 5

“Katie, babe, come on! You know me! I wouldn’t do anything that could put you at risk!” Owner of the Trenton Theater House, Matthew, pleaded with his star and lover over the phone! “Nothing has been moved through the theater house in months! I swear to you; I have only ever moved drugs!” Though Katie Vang listened intently, she didn’t bother to respond; sickened both by Matthew’s ineptitude and carelessness. “Babe, I told you I’d get you to the big screen, remember? I’m the one, trust me! I am that guy!” Without a word, Katie hung up. Putting on her work skirt, the waitress exited a utility closet in Captain Louie’s Ale House ready to work. Matthew’s persistence only drove that wedge between them deeper.

(Fuck that. I’m done with Matthew!) Katie grabbed a menu at the front, paying no mind to a patron entering the restaurant. (Dumbfuck! Human trafficking and drug running?! Are you serious?!) She presented the customer with a picture perfect smile, despite his imposing physique. (Should I turn him into the police, get ahead of everything?) She led the man to one of the many empty tables and handed him the menu. “Sir, whenever you’re ready to order, let me know.” Like a professional, unfazed on the surface while still in deep thought.

“Hmm…how about Shepherd's pie and some black coffee, pretty lady?” The customer smiled in return with his weathered face.

“No problem! Coming right up!” Katie strolled back to the bar, feeling the man’s eyes tracking her rear the whole way. (Another one of these types, huh? Well, I’ll probably get a good tip, even if I also get a bunch of creepy compliments.) A thought popped into the redhead’s mind. (Now that I think about it, I haven’t heard from Spike yet. Dude normally replies to Vernon in the group chat every morning, then tries to send me a message separately acting cool. Maybe the idea of…oh god, what was the name I made up? Can’t even remember. Whatever. Hopefully the idea of me having a boyfriend finally scared him off.) Despite Katie’s firmness, a bit of camaraderie was fostered between her and Nicolaus. (…) Even to the point that she did check when he last looked at the group messenger. (Offline for a few hours, huh? He'll message me sooner or later.)

“Hey, Vang! What are you doing?! Just because it’s slow doesn’t mean you can slack off!” Her boss shouted from the bar, making Katie nearly drop her phone.

“On it!” Pissed, Katie maintained that pleasant smile.

“No big rush, pretty lady!” With a booming voice able to shake the whole room, the customer assured his object of affection. Katie brought the hearty patron his Shepherd's pie while still mowing over if she should turn Matthew into the police. “Pretty lady, you got something on your mind?”

“Oh! No, it’s nothing! Just thinking about life.” Again, a bright smile. A walking talking façade, truly Katie Vang was an actress deep to her core.

“You know something, in my line of work we’re expected to remember names and faces.” The man’s wooden chair creaked heavily under his muscular frame, taking a sip of his coffee and leaning back. “Job’s kept me in this town for a little over two months now, and I’ve got to say, it’s been really boring; except when I went to a play recently.”

“…” Suspicion sparked. Katie’s eyes quickly shifted to her boss, signaling him to be wary. “…Sir, what are you talking about?”

“I’m saying I saw you on stage. You stand out, pretty lady! Makeup don’t exactly hide those freckles; blonde wig don’t hide the red locks.” Out of the corner of her eye, the alerted waitress noted her boss bringing his phone up. “Don’t worry sir! I’m just here to get some food, and offer the lady a job, then I’ll be on my way! Maybe stop off at the gym if I have time.” Without even turning his head, the owner’s actions his back were identified perfectly! “What do you think, pretty lady?”

“…Who are you?”

“Can’t give you my name right now, but I promise you’ll at least want to hear me out.”

“…” Weighing her options, Katie assessed that, if need be, she could use her mannequins to hold off the man; though she’d never used them in combat. Guard up, she sat down, watching the man’s every movement across the table. “What exactly are you angling at, sir?”

“First of all, drop the ‘sir’. I’m only a couple of years older than you.” There wasn’t anything else to refer to the man as, since he didn’t give his name. “Haha!” He laughed, wide chest on full display even under the straining fibers of his black shirt. “Now, let’s stop beating around the bush. Pretty lady, do you like working here?”

“…Well…” With a glance to her boss, still eavesdropping from behind the counter, Katie smiled and answered. “Yes!” Then under her breath… “Sometimes…”

“I get ya’. Well…” With the slightest hesitation, the man continued. “What if I told you I’ve been watching you…and your friends?”

“…” Trained to always maintain composure, Katie stifled the urge to shoot up from her seat and scream! “…” Silently thinking through every option, Katie decided to play the conversation differently. “…Cut to the chase. What are you here for?”

“I’m sticking my neck out here, pretty lady. Shouldn’t even be revealing myself to you, honestly, but you remind me of my ex-wife.” Another hearty laugh, though the comment left Katie feeling uncomfortable. “Listen my boss is kind of…untrusting. Keeping tabs on people and whatnot, me included!”

“What is this job…?”

“Government…sort of.”

“…I’m going to say ‘no’, then.” Even with the chance of her escaping the mundanity of life fading away, Katie’s instincts won out. A thought stopped her walking away, however. “You know about us, right? You know…” Katie gestured with her hand, confusing the man for a second. “…Don’t make me say it out loud.”

“Ah!” He caught on. “Yup, we know a bunch of things, including the changes that have happened to you all.”

“…” Frozen with indecision, Katie returned to her seat, still eyeing the man carefully until…

“Oh! Hang on!” He pulled his phone out, feeling a call had come through. “Right…right. Alright, I’ll be there soon.” Finishing his meal and coffee almost in a single gulp, the man rose up from his seat and dropped a hundred dollars on the table! “Keep the change, and make sure you hang onto the rest as a good tip!”

“Wait, you can’t just leave!”

“Sorry, duty calls!” Before leaving, he stopped and delivered his final offer. “One last pitch!” He said, approaching Katie again. “…Your name will mean something.” Words that struck a chord with Katie right away. “When this is all said and done, our names are going to go down in history. We’ll have changed the world…or at least that’s what I’m told! Here, pretty lady, take this!” Handing a card to Katie, she noted the man’s coarse left hand was missing its little finger. “You know what, call me Baxter. We’ll talk more again, have a nice day!” The man turned to leave and bid her farewell.

His colossal body disappeared down the city streets among the growing crowds. Katie could just watch from the door as the mysterious man left her with more questions than answers. In her hand, however, was the card with his phone number. Emblazoned on the other side was ‘bringing the future forward’ and a hand lifting a head encircled by a halo.

Part 6

The bell rang at Landon High School, signaling a respite for its weary students, though not Vergil or Harper. Both teens silently watched the clock tick by, as they were subjected to lunch detention for ditching earlier classes. The detention monitor's snoring rattled the windows, as he was fully prepared to sleep his way through the break. Harper snuck his phone in under the desk to escape immense boredom. [Can I ask you something?] Vergil messaged. [It’s about your dad.]

(Seriously?!) Harper glared at the back of his friend! (What the fuck is going on in his head?! I’m going root out those thoughts right now!) From the back of the classroom, Harper began probing Vergil’s mind. A whizzing, like air slowly leaking from a balloon rang in his ears, and a small trickle of blood rolled down his lip. (Ow, ow! Fuck… hang on. What…am I seeing, hearing, feeling…?) On Harper’s end, he was seeing things deeper than ever before!

Nostalgic feelings of Vergil sitting with his mother on a drive out of the city were vivid, more so than Harper’s own memories. A warm hug from his father when he rounded home base in little league, looking up at his mother cheering from the stands; lucid enough, Harper reached out his hand as Vergil did then…

“Ugh!” Vergil grunted in pain! “My head…!” The invasive combing through his memories and thoughts was akin to a worm burrowing into his brain! Harper halted rooting around in Vergil’s mind just as the teacher reawakened.

“Trask, quiet! Don’t make any trouble.” Wiping drool off an already stained dress shirt, the man sat up from his seat and growled. “Harper, what happened to you? Your nose is bleeding.”

“Is it?” A plausible excuse didn’t immediately appear in the boy’s still hazy mind.

“Whatever. Go to the nurse’s office. In fact, both of you get outta’ here! I don’t get paid enough to watch you two over my lunch break. Just don’t go skipping classes, get me?” The man stood up and opened the door, herding both boys into the hall. He slammed the door shut behind them; immediately, snoring resumed in the classroom.

Other students relaxed on the football fields, chilled about the campus, or were smoking just off campus. Harper pinched his nose, walking with Vergil, massaging his temples. “H-Harper…”

“Yeah, what is it?” Despite asking, Harper knew what the question would be and had a quick answer lined up.

“Um…I started hearing weird stuff again.” He whispered. “L-like right before we went back to the r-ridge that night.”

“What are you hearing?” Playing dumb was easy for Harper. He knew every thought Vergil would have before it left his mouth.

“I-It sounds like it’s talking t-to me now. Saying messed u-up things.”

“Shit, that’s wild! Maybe it’s a side effect from you guys getting powers!” Leading his friend to a conclusion and drawing attention away from himself, Harper schemed.

“But I don’t think anyone e-else has heard them. Nicol-laus hasn’t mentioned them since.”

“Bet it has something to do with your powers! I wouldn’t know, I don’t have powers and have never heard those voices.” Harper boasted confidently, only for Vergil to find that statement odd.

“B-But you did when we were with Vernon before…I remember…”

“…Ah…” Hadn’t prepared for that response, as Harper’s mouth outran his mind. “You’re probably remembering wrong.”

“…You n-never got powers, right?”

“No! Of course not!”

“…Ok. I-I was just wondering. O-Oh yeah about—”

“Will you lay off my dad!” Before Vergil could even form another thought, Harper shouted at him! “Fuck’s sake! Everything that bitch said was…I mean, don’t worry about it. Let’s just drop it!” Harper turned away from Vergil and stormed off to the nurse’s office!

Worried he angered his friend, Vergil relented on the subject, though the accusations made by Amala weren’t lost on him. For reasons unknown to him, his head still ached. That boring sensation lingered, like sections of his brain had been stretched beyond the point of rebounding. The lone teen recalled his mother for the first time in years. He didn’t enjoy it, recalling one of the last memories he had of his mother, repressed, yet not buried.

When Vergil reached the door leading to the cafeteria, a faint shriek, followed by the sound of squealing car tires erupted in the distance! Beyond mentally exhausted, Vergil paid it little mind aside from simple acknowledgement. On his way in, Lefty and Pete intercepted their friend, both wrapping a friendly arm around the tall, lanky boy! “Good to see ya’ Verg!” Lefty playfully fussed with his silvery hair.

“Let’s grab a seat!” Other students watched from a distance, cautiously. Interest once again grew in Vergil after the scene he’d caused a day prior. “Free spot!” Pete slid down onto a bench opening up spots for his friends to follow. Just as Vergil prepared to bury those dormant memories of his mother again, Harper burst in through the doors!

“V-Vergil!” Still bleeding, Harper squeezed by other students and made his way over to the table! “Come with me…I…you need to come with me and stay calm!” That last piece rang ironic coming from a person who’s nose had turned into a blood hose, staining the collar of his jacket red!

“Harper, boy, what happened?!” Lefty pulled napkins from a container on the table, but Harper pushed them away and insisted again on Vergil!

“Not now! Vergil, come on!”

“W-What’s going on?” Giving into the urgency, Vergil followed Harper out back into the school loggia! “Harper, a-are you alright?! You’re bleeding a-a lot!”

“Forget it! Listen…Stay calm and listen, man. Don’t freak! Ok?!” Vergil nodded, fearing the worst, but was unprepared for the news about to be dropped onto his stressed-out shoulders. “…Your sister…may have been kidnapped.”

End of Chapter 13