Furuno
I lay on the bed, unable to sleep. The events of the previous night keep haunting - there's nowhere to turn from the mories.
It's not the first ti I've killed soone - but it's the first ti I shed blood without my own control.
I've tried to feel remorse, guilt, pain, anything.
Instead, I feel as light as ever. Empty. Nothing.
The images play in my head - how her eyes went blank.
Once shimring, then, blank. Glassy. Dead.
She had crumpled to the ground and died instantly.
The voice kept laughing at , taunting without restraint.
I rub my sore eyes lightly. Leaning over, I glance at the alarm clock perched on the bedside table. It's shaped like an owl - which is weird for an early morning tir.
It's seven already.
Karim had asked to attend a eting. Soti during the night, I had given up all hope of becoming a beast slayer - that future had been hijacked from in the worst way.
Instead of killing beasts, I might just turn on my own kind.
A bitter laugh escapes .
"You okay?" My roommate asks, spraying perfu about his hair.
"There's a general assembly by eight - I don't know if you heard. You should probably attend, freshn benefit the most from these stupid events." He says.
I say nothing, just watching.
He scurries around the room, packing his scattered clothes into his arms. Then he dumps them into an overflowing basket.
That laundry pile has been there since I moved in.
"See you later… or not." He says, his gaze faltering.
Then, he dashes out of the room. As the door slams shut, the windows rattle mildly.
I head to the door, intending to lock it.
It didn't click properly, so I open it - intending to shut it back again.
A shoe hinders the door.
Who is it?
I'm not in the mood to talk.
"Go away."
The foot remains.
Annoyed, I open the door wider.
Spatial blondy stands there, his expression as arrogant as ever.
Tsk - just what I needed.
"If Karim sent you, tell him that I'm feeling a bit under the weather."
He arches a brow.
"I'm not here because of Karim. I ca to see you." His voice alone hints he has sothing important to say.
What could he possibly want to say to ?
Then, without warning, he slips into the rooms.
As he brushes past , his expensive cologne wafts to my nostrils.
He picks up my discarded jacket and flips through it. He pulls out the now-dry file and flips it open.
"What's this?"
I completely forgot about the file. I haven't even looked through it.
"Nothing that concerns you." I mutter, wishing he would take the hint and leave.
He smirks.
He slips the file under his arm and moves to the windows.
"What the heck are you doing?" I ask.
He draws the heavy drapes away.
Brilliant sunshine floods into the room, blinding instantly.
"Shut it, you… I specifically demanded that it should always be closed."
He doesn't pay any heed to a word I say.
I shield my eyes with my hands until they adjust to the scalding light.
"What do you need all this light for?"
He stops moving, pinning with an intense stare.
I can't seem to look away - it's as if I'm being held by so unseen force.
"Look away." The voice in my head warns.
Then, he blinks.
The connection cuts off instantly.
"What were you doing to ?" I ask, annoyed.
"I was looking at you." Then as if realizing his answer is too vague, he adds, "The real you."
"What do you an by that?"
He settles down on the chair by the window uninvited.
His gaze flickers over my disheveled clothing - I hadn't bothered to change.
"The voice in your head, who was it?"
I shrug.
Even if I wanted to tell him, I wouldn't be able to.
He regards , skeptism etched over his features.
"Why were you in the catacombs then? Is that where you got this?" He flashes the file.
I itch to snatch it from him and kick him out.
"And Angela was with you, wasn't she?"
I refuse to et his gaze.
How does he even know?
He seems to read my expression perfectly, because he says, "I heard your voices coming from the catacombs. She talks too much - that's how I knew it was her."
She had been babbling, I rember.
"So, you were the one up there." I sum up imdiately.
"Your session was supposed to have ended long before that ti. What were you still doing there?"
It's his turn to look away.
"Important things."
"Sa with . Now, if you won't mind, I would like you to leave."
He smiles, baring a perfect set of teeth. The way his face brightens up adds an unusual glow to his already-handso features.
"I had expected you to kick bodily out of the room, not be polite."
"Don't push it." I say, smiling as well despite myself.
He had guessed exactly what I wanted to do to him.
"Yeah, but I'm not going anywhere… at least, not until I get all the answers I ca for."
"What answers?"
His smile vanishes.
"It's about the voice in your head, Furuno. I know it's listening right now, probably even telling you what to say. What I don't know is how you survived the Apocalypse."
The voice in my head, huh? Lord Sinclaire.
My stomach turns at the ntion of his na.
"How do you know there's a voice in my head? Also, how do you know that I survived the Apocalypse?"
He rests his hands on his knees with a sigh.
"It's wrong to answer questions with questions." He says.
"Well, it's wrong to barge into people's rooms and poke your nose where it doesn't belong."
He tilts his head surveying with narrowed eyes.
"Is it you speaking or the voice?"
I raise an eyebrow.
To be honest, I really don't know. I've been doing a lot of things against my will recently. And now, those things are becoming part of - nearly normal.
"It doesn't change the fact that you're trespassing."
He leans his chin on his wrists, looking bored.
"You love to evade questions - why is that?"
"Get out." I manage to keep my face low.
The motherfucker even crosses his legs, daring to throw him out.
"You're doing it again. You haven't answered a single one of my questions. If you don't, I'm not going anywhere." He says, impervious to my threats.
I roll my eyes.
"That's because I don't owe you any explanations, blondy. Leave before I throw you out."
He stands to his feet, brushing off nonexistent dust from his brocade to ruffle .
I watch him as one would watch a pestering cyclops.
"There is a reason people run away from ." He says, his voice low but silky smooth.
I don't miss the threat beneath his casual words.
His eyes flash dangerously.
I step back instinctively. The room suddenly feels too small for the both of us.
He shoves his hands into his pockets, but not before I notice the shaking.
They're not shaking from fright - they're trembling from restraint, I realize.
The killer look in his eyes makes start.
"Let's try this again, Furuno."
I gulp, wondering what would befall if I don't answer his questions.
"The voice in your head - who is that?" He asks.
My eyes dart to the file under his arm instinctively. He follows the subtle movent.
He holds out the file and flips it open, his eyes still holding mine.
"Vert Sinclaire? Is he the owner of the voice?" He questions in a tone that dares to evade.
His eyes darken as I remain silent. I grip the door knob beside , preparing to dash out of the room if I have to.
"I like him." The voice says.
A shudder courses through . Perspiration trickles down my back.
"Yes." I blurt out, surprising myself.
Sinclaire let speak?
"So how do you explain being the only one to survive?"
How the hell should I know? I can't see the future.
"I don't know, man."
He moves closer. I lean back against the wall.
"There is sothing else about your companion that bothers ."
Sothing tells that I won't want to hear whatever he has to say - but I don't have a choice.
"What… is that?" I ask, trying to mask the dread I feel.
He walks over to the football poster on the wall. He slowly runs his hands over the highlights.
My roommate is a big fan of football, it would seem.
"Why did you free the creature trapped in the Dungeons?"
What creature?
Before I can respond, the door jerks open. I stumble forward as the door crashes into my back.
Angela stands there, pale and disheveled.
We just stare at each other while Blondy stares between us.
Her face is tear-streaked and hollow.
"What the hell happened to you?"
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