Salutations!
Hey- I got someone to beta read this! 'ShutUpYourePerfect' shouted at me for writing the word 'something' and I am very grateful. I have such a ridiculous ego and am astonishingly lazy, so I never really draft my chapters. Which is a problem. The best thing I've ever written had 7 drafts. Anyway, the point is she's a huge help. Check her out!
Why is it suddenly hot? I think Spring was skipped over here... Didn't even hear anything about magpies destroying people's faces. Huh.
Well I guess it gives me an excuse to complain about global warming, so it's fine!
Don't listen to Take On Me while drafting. You'll stop writing and be captivated until it's over.
Enjoy!
Chapter 9
The morning was tense and quiet.
They barely said a word to each other as they packed up and got ready to leave. Even when travelling to Washington, they weren't much for conversation.
They reached the town that Emil had lived after midday, still enough time to visit Lukas and the others. So, after finding a motel and talking a little on what this 'information' could be, they were just about to leave for the house.
Until the unexpected occurred.
Three hesitant knocks ominously came from the door. It hushed them, sending chills through Alfred. They had only just arrived there so... For someone to know where they were, they'd have had to be following them.
Alfred, despite his fear, silently offered to answer it, almost shaking as he approached, and tentatively opened it.
Standing before him was a frail little man, quivering and trembling, his head bowed. The man was unspeakably thin, so much so that his bones protruded from his fair skin. His hair was disheveled and matted, tear streaks were clear on his gaunt face and his eyes were wide and displaying indescribable horror- it was clear something very, very terrible had happened to him. A thick brown jacket was pulled tight around him, and it basically swallowed him, his hands grasping it firmly, as if for dear life. His hair was so blonde that it was almost white, and it made him look as if he had aged rapidly just because of the-terror-that-had-occurred, with the heavy bags under his haunted eyes adding to the effect. His hands were almost completely hidden by the long sleeves of the jacket, it looked very much as if he was hiding in it.
The paleness of his skin, along with the shade of his hair and the bony frame, made him look much like a skeleton.
He staggered into the room without hesitation, without even asking permission. The sudden entrance of someone so fraught and sickly caught everyone off-guard, and he opened his trembling lips to say a simple, chilling phrase.
"Please... Don't... Don't let them hurt me again."
He stood, shaking there. Then, there was an utterance. An utterance that completely changed their views of the ashen man.
"That... Couldn't be... Isn't that Emil Steilsson?"
In the moment, the person who had uttered such a thing was forgotten, but the phrase remained. It was confirmed by the eyes of all those within that place.
The man before them was, indeed, Emil Steilsson. He hadn't been recognised before- not only because the photos they had poured over had been several years old, but also because of his lack of body weight and general distraught appearance.
This sent Alfred's head spinning. Why... How could Emil just turn up at the door? An essential piece of the puzzle, a clue to Arthur's whereabouts so profound that it didn't even seem possible. Not only Arthur- the Icelandic's man was saved, now, and possibly everyone else who had gone missing on the 27th.
Everyone in the room now couldn't say or do a thing, from the huge revelation that had just occurred, so Emil took initiative and stumbled toward the wooden chair Alfred had been sitting in during their swift conversation, collapsing onto it in obvious relief.
Only then could any of them be brave enough to ask a certain question.
"Y-You are Emil Steilsson, right?"
Alfred's comment felt very stupid, especially in such an enormous situation, but it was all he could manage at that moment.
"Yes, I am... And since you seem to know who I am, I-I think I've found the right place."
The declaration, and the situation in general, took a long time to process.
In that time, they tried their best to make him comfortable. Yao went out to get him some clearly much-needed food, which he ate ravenously. He still seemed to be hungry, but didn't ask for any more food- in fact, at that point, it seemed the most he needed was moral support.
Without saying anything beforehand, he spouted out his story.
Emil had been happy. He had been going to a good college, living with his half-brother and friends.
Until one day they did something he didn't understand.
The people he had trusted, the person who was of the same blood had betrayed him in a terrible way. One morning, he had woken up to find that they weren't who they used to be.
They had said things. How much they hated him. How much they despised his very existence. How much they wished he would just die.
And their actions proved their words.
They had taken him somewhere secret in their very own house- somewhere even he hadn't been aware of. Where they starved him. Where they mocked him. Where, occasionally, they took out a wretched knife and cut his flesh.
Where were his real friends?
Why had they gone in the night and been replaced by these copies?
Why did their bodies have such cold eyes?
Why, why, why, was his life now a living hell?
He was so scared. Not only of the knife. But also that it was possible the people behind the knife could actually be the people he had once trusted, the people who had once protected him.
The one he couldn't believe the most was Lukas. Lukas... Had been so overprotective, had been so caring. What on this earth that caused him to pick up that wretched blade and draw his half-brother's blood?
One day, they stopped. They stopped the cutting of skin and the words.
They had let him go. Simple as that. Just got him to leave that terrible place.
He was going to rush to the police as fast as possible, to people he could feel protected next to. He was going to rush into the nearest populated place and find someone, anyone, to help him.
But before he was barely out the back door they had shoved him through, somebody had grabbed him.
She had tugged him into a dark corner, and told him something hurriedly. Apparently, the police wouldn't help him. Apparently, there was only one place he could go that would save him. She shoved a piece of paper into his hands, and told him to go to the address scrawled upon it.
Emil wouldn't have believed her. He said so- he asked her why he should trust her. She had bit her lip impatiently, and whispered, "Because I'm the one who got you out of that place."
He had been taken aback, and asked, "How?"
She replied, "I was in cahoots with them. I can't tell you why they wanted to do this... I convinced them to let you go. You see, I'm a double agent. Something very, very big is going on, and I was left to spy on the enemy."
Suddenly, the woman before him became a thousand times more menacing, "That's not enough to make me believe you. For all I know, you could be making all this up. Why should I trust someone who helped me get t-tortured?"
"Because I'm your only hope. Listen to me. If you go to the police, you're screwed. Do you have any evidence? Do you think that they would let you go without guessing you might go to the police, so they'd destroy the evidence? Law is a tricky business. If a few scars and a testimony is all you have, you won't get very far."
His limbs were shaking. Not from the cold or hurt.
"But... They'd protect me..."
"Emil... They are the most dangerous people imaginable, with the most numbers. The police couldn't do a thing."
He was almost in tears.
"Why... Should I believe you?"
"You've seen the things they'd do to their own friends- to their own blood! This is your only hope. Please believe me."
"What's your name...?" He now was beginning to cry. Why was this happening?
"Lien Chung. If you follow my advice, we'll meet again. I'm going to do my best to protect you."
"Okay... W-Who belongs to this address? It's at the motel..."
"Some people trying to find someone they love. They'll know who you are. Let them fill in the rest."
"Alright."
"Tell them that Arthur Kirkland lives."
Then she was gone.
Lien is Vietnam, by the way.
Ahh, this is a huge plot point! Tell me what you think of it.
Hope you enjoyed!
