N/A- I don't own Heroes, but these characters are mine. So back off!
Anyway, thanks for even taking the time to look over this. It means a lot to me. Please feel free to comment! Hopefully I can crank out a chapter every week (or at least every other week). But for the time being prepare to be somewhat confused and hopefully entertained!
Three Days Over
Day One: The Revealed
Evolution is not a pathway.
It is not a ladder that every species climbs, where there is a right direction- up, and a wrong direction- down.
In reality, Evolution is close to a dark labyrinth in which occasionally one finds himself in a desirable position, and other times one finds himself in a perilous one, but in the end all are entrapped within the maze, forever changing direction with no concept of right and wrong.
In much the same way we find abstract concepts such as morality. Is there a right and a wrong? Is a wrongdoing done for the right reasons justifiable? If one knew that something was supposed to happen, or was going to happen, or was happening right before their eyes, does the spectator have a duty to administer justice?
Are there degrees of right and wrong, or is a sin a sin?
-
Museum, 5:00am
"Thomas," a female voice behind him called. Thomas' concentration broke. He turned over to the voice.
"What is it, Aubrey?" Thomas asked.
"We need to leave soon," Aubrey announced as she marched past him. "The museum will open soon, and then our private viewing won't be so private anymore."
"Okay," Thomas sighed. "I'll get to the car in a minute." His little I.D. card, identifying him as an authorized student, swung low as he ducked down to look at one last artifact. It was a pot, made of clay and with no identification on it. He reached out to touch it…
"Hey!" Aubrey called. "You better not be touching the artifacts up there!"
Thomas rolled his eyes. He didn't answer.
She walked farther away and out of eye sight. Thomas reached out and touched the pot carefully, just with the tip of his fingers. He exhaled loudly… closed his eyes-
"Damn, should've known it was a duplicate," he sighed. Thomas straightened up, walking across the room to the next artifact.
-
Just outside…
It was chilly out. Not cold enough for ice, but damned cold. A soft wind was creeping down the pre-sunrise street- the kind of wind that was just cold enough to cut through your hoodie and brush against your skin, causing an instinctive shiver.
Stephen felt such a shiver as he passed a girl coming out of the museum.
Damned early for a museum to be opened, he thought to himself as she walked over to the nearby parking lot in the opposite direction of the one he was walking. Must be five o'-fuckin' clock.
Stephen walked on, wondering how he was talked in to walking to the store instead of driving. Didn't even buy anythin'…
Suddenly Stephen noted something was wrong… the hairs on his neck stood on end, and it wasn't the cold.
…I'm being watched…
-
Back in the museum…
Thomas continued his touching spree in the museum. Occasionally he'd touch something that wasn't a duplicate but the original object. When it was, he'd know.
He always knew.
He made contact with another pot. Exhaled deeply… closed his eyes.
A potter with red hair spins the pot around on a pedestal… the exact date is September 4, 1243. Exactly where it was, Thomas couldn't tell-
He pulled his finger away, opening his eyes. Thomas didn't like using his ability for a long amount of time. It made him tired quickly. "This one's an original," he said aloud to himself. "It's been to many museums before here. Probably a new addition, but I couldn't get a clear history… it's too long and complicated to perceive unless I spent longer…" he trailed off, realizing he was speaking aloud. If someone overheard me, would they believe me anyway?
He went on to the next artifact. It looked like it didn't belong in the pottery section. Without hesitation, Thomas put his finger to it and-
"Thomas?"an echoing voice resounded.
Thomas' eyes flung wide open. He looked around. He peered upwards to a security camera, looking away from him.
"Who's there?" Thomas whispered.
"Don't worry. Nobody can hear me but you… I need to show you something."
Thomas' heart raced. "Who are you?"
"My real name doesn't matter right now. But I'm in your head now. You can call me God..."
"God…" Thomas repeated dumbly.
"You must step outside and follow the cloaked one," 'God' commanded.
-
Stephen pulled his hood down to see the man across the street more clearly- the one who'd been watching him- without turning his body or acknowledging the man's presence. The man across the street turned the corner right after an old lady passed that way, and suddenly Stephen felt something was wrong.
As all of this occurred, Thomas (by 'God's instruction) rushed down the steps of the museum.
"The cloaked one…" Thomas mumbled to himself. He caught what appeared to be a hooded figure across the street, just turning the corner, out of sight.
"That is him, all right," 'God' mumbled. "Now wait here. When I say so, I want you to run down that street you saw him go down. He won't get far…"
"Won't get far?" Thomas asked, alarmed.
'God' didn't answer. It would be several minutes.
-
It was now 5:30am. The sun still had yet to rise.
Aubrey had waited impatiently in the car for at least twenty minutes. Finally, she stopped the car and walked back towards the museum.
Suddenly, she spots a figure darting into an alleyway.
That looked like Thomas… she knew. She ran briskly down the street, puffing a frustrated cloud of warm steam into the frigid air. She turned the corner and there was Thomas, looking down at the alley ground in horror.
She looked down and gagged.
Blood and what looked like crystals of ice ebbed quietly into the storm drain nearby.
Thomas carefully reached down with his hands and touched what he assumed to be a piece of flesh.
"I knew you were clairsentient," 'God' mumbled into Thomas' head.
"Be quiet, I need to concentrate," Thomas said to 'God'. Aubrey held her hand to her mouth.
Thomas made contact with the frozen flash. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Then he slowly exhaled, pulling the event out of the item as he did with the pots not long ago…
-
It was 5:15 again; fifteen minutes before Thomas had touched the flesh, it was still a part of a living organism. Aubrey was still in the car waiting for Thomas, and the hooded figure of Stephen had seen a man run down this very alley after an old woman took the wrong turn, it appeared.
5:15- Flashback in the alley
Stephen dashed after the man and the old woman, sensing something wrong.
He was right. As he stepped into the alley entrance, the man had already pulled the gun out, loading the pistol and pointing it at the old lady.
The mugger noticed Stephen immediately, turning the gun to face him, too. The gun roamed from one target to the other.
"You first," the robber said to the elderly woman. "Drop the purse."
The white-haired woman carefully lowered the purse to the ground, mumbling something in perhaps German. Maybe a prayer, or a plead for mercy… Stephen was unsure.
The gun turned to Stephen. "Come on in," the gunman said.
Thomas took a few steps into the alleyway, out of view of the street now. He thought he heard someone nearby on the street, but it's not like he could've called out for help without being shot…
What were you thinking, Stephen… what was it, your sense of duty…? Why the hell are you here? This is a routine robbery, why'd you have to come this way? Why'd you decide to walk to the store today?
The robber calmly moved back to the senior lady with his gun. His face was solemn, contemplative. "You've lived long enough, right?"
"Stop!" Stephen shouted. He heard the walking noises on the other side of the street cease for a moment. The gunman panicked, turning the gun to him, his fingers crunching down on the trigger like a reflex-
-and Stephen responded with a reflex of his own, suddenly feeling a numbing heat-like sensation in his hands-
And he winced when he figured the gun went off, but instead he heard a different noise. A scream, but no gun shot…
The old lady ran passed him and onto the street, leaving behind her purse in her panic.
Stephen stared at the gunman in horror. A trail of ice that began a foot or so in front of Stephen had made its way four feet on the ground to where the gunman stood, encased in ice himself. The ice had already begun to crack, and as a piece of it crumbled off, so did the arm it enveloped.
Stephen felt his hands. They were warm… more than that, they felt feverishly hot. But he wasn't hurt. He put his hands into his pockets, flipping his hood back up first. He turned to leave the alleyway when he came face-to-face with another witness. It seemed to be a boy around his age, maybe seventeen or eighteen, but much taller. He stood at the site with horror.
Stephen passed the horrified spectator. "Get away from here while you can," Stephen said, still wondering exactly what happened- but not wondering what would happen if he were caught…
The spectator, still terrified beyond belief, finally regained some sense and ran away from the frozen perpetrator as well. As he did so, the ice statue crumbled even more and pieces of the frozen gunman shattered on the asphalt.
-
5: 30am
Thomas opened his eyes, tired and terrified, quickly withdrawing from the object he touched. He turned to Aubrey, who stood mortified exactly where another spectator once did fifteen minutes ago.
"Why did you want me… us… to see this?" Thomas asked his mental guide.
"I'm not done. I'm here to send you on a mission, but you still have much to learn. Go home with your girl, and then I will send you to uncover another scene. All will reveal itself to you…"
-
7:00am
'The tall spectator' had rushed home, locking himself into his apartment. It was growing light outside as the sun emerged over the city (and over the crime scene where police, by this time, had found the remains of the gunman). Light flooded into the shoddy apartment window.
"Oh my God," the terrified spectator mumbled to himself. "Oh my God… Oh my God… there really are others…"
-
In such a short time, such radical changes had occurred in several lives. An entity that calls himself God reveals himself to me; a boy named Stephen reveals his own abilities; and as the sun revealed itself over the horizon, a new day- the first of three in this tale- heralds even more radical changes. Put on the track we were on, we have no chance but to follow through with our actions as we are supposed to.
But what if we could break free of this 'fate'? What if Stephen didn't intervene with his own judgments and ideologies of right and wrong? What if my own 'little sin'- touching museum artifacts (but is this 'more wrong' than the armed robbery or are they both simply wrong?)…what if I had stopped, and went out to the car after Aubrey at 5:00am? Would life have gone on? Were certain events inevitable?
We shall never know; we are all trapped within the maze, and we must all follow our own paths to salvation, whether they are clear to us or not…
(to be continued)
Next Chapter: Day One: The Resolution