I do not own Chaotic nor anything related to it. It belongs to TCDigital.

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The Knife

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Shasta closed the bar early. It's just him, Sett, and me in here now.

"So, tomorrow is when you find out whether the Humans like you or this Frank guy more," Sett says to break the silence at the table.

I nod, but stay silent. I have three different newspapers in front of me, and I'm flipping the poll numbers around in my head.

Sett reaches across the table and gives my shoulder a light punch. "Relax a bit, Michael. You've got a lot more support than Frank."

I shake my head and point at a paper. "It's not a lot more. It only looks like a lot more because my supporters are more vocal than Frank's."

Sett stands up and looks at the article I'm pointing at, then turns the paper so it isn't upside-down for him. "What does that symbol mean? The two circles divided by a line?"

"Percent," I say.

Sett's eye ridges pinch together. "You have a ten percent lead according to this."

"Which doesn't mean anything if that survey is biased," I note. I flip open another paper. "This one says Frank's more popular, and both of them have only a two-hundred person sample size."

Sett looks up at me. "Is there any way I can convince you to tell me what Frank did to you? Or maybe tell all the other Humans?"

Shasta, who'd been silent up until now, speaks up. "How would it help, Sett? They were children at the time, and even if Frank hasn't changed from back then, he could counter it by saying he's matured in the mean time."

"I'm also trying to avoid directly accusing Frank of anything," I add. I read directly from one of the papers, "'Although Frank is significantly more skilled at actual debating, he hurts his chances by trying to accentuate negative qualities in his opponent, with most of his attempts being defeated with one or two sentences from Michael.'" I look up at Sett. "As long as Frank keeps digging his own grave, I should do well."

"But you're still nervous," Sett notes.

I point at the paper. "Do you think Frank ignores the news? If he takes this and shapes up, then tomorrow's going to be a lot rougher."

There's a knock at the door. Shasta turns to it and shouts, "We're closed!"

"I need to talk to Michael," a male voice says.

Shasta blinks, "That's Frank. Am I right?"

I nod.

Shasta calls out again, "I said we're closed!"

Sett's eyes light up, and a small grin appears on his face. "Wait," he whispers. "Michael, can you guess why he wants to talk to you?"

"Probably to try to threaten or bribe me," I mutter. "Most likely threaten."

Frank's voice says, "I can wait out here all night if I need to."

Sett glances at the door. "Let him in. Don't give any indication that I'm here."

"You're not going to attack him, are you?" I mutter. "Not that I'm complaining, but it'll make me look bad."

"Only if he attacks you first," Sett says before his form flickers and seems to vanish.

I glance at Shasta. "I do feel safer talking to him with Sett standing guard."

Shasta stares at Sett's chair in confusion for a moment, then stands up. "Fine. Michael says he'll talk to you." He opens the door.

Frank cracks a wide smile at Shasta. "Can Mike and I talk alone, like old friends?"

Shasta gives Frank an unamused stare. "I must have missed the part where Michael said you and he were friends."

Frank's smile falters a little. "Look, lizard, I want to talk with Michael without you hovering over our shoulders. If you're not going to leave, I'm going to have to find another way to keep you from listening to us."

"I'll be fine," I say.

Shasta glances at me. "Okay then..." Frank steps aside, and Shasta leaves.

Frank enters the room and locks the door. "There," he mutters. He turns to me and glowers. "Why do you always have to make everything so difficult, Mike?"

I stare at Frank. "You were the one who made my life difficult."

"Psh," Frank exhales, "don't blame me. You were the one who made it so fun to mess with you." He chuckles a little. "It was so easy, all I had to do was say 'f***' and you'd freak out like a little wuss."

"Hm." I make a show of picking at my fingernails.

Frank frowns and sits down. "Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," I nod.

Frank blinks. "Well, it doesn't f***ing sound like you give a s*** you c***-sucking little b****."

I notice a grain of sand under my thumbnail and remove it.

"Did you hear me at all?" Frank asks in a exasperated voice.

I point at my ear. "I've taught myself to tune out individual words like the ones you're trying to make me react to."

Frank glares for a moment. "Why do you have to ruin my fun?" His fists are clenched and trembling. "I never got to go to prom, never got to graduate, couldn't get a job anywhere, and it's all your fault."

I raise an eyebrow. "Uh, no, that was your fault. You brought weapons to school."

Frank whips his hand back and forth as if he were swatting a fly away from his face. "Don't try to turn it onto me. Eleventh grade, you started to push back when I pushed you. You jumped in when I tried to have fun messing with other people."

I can't believe this. Talk about ignoring the real problem.

Frank threw his hands up. "Some of the kids started taking advice from you! You remember Chris? Used to flip the f*** out whenever anyone did anything to him. Twelfth grade? Offered me hand sanitizer when I threw mud at him. He said it was your idea."

Sheesh, Frank, are you even listening to yourself? "And that's why you brought knives to school?"

Frank grits his teeth. "Yeah. Maybe I could get my way again if you weren't always in my way."

My heart's pounding. "You do realize you would have ended up in jail if you'd succeeded, right?" I say.

"Since when did anyone ever care about idiot kids at some idiot school for idiots?" Frank scoffs. "If Brett hadn't looked in my backpack, I could have stopped you and gotten away with it."

...Brett, if you can hear me, thank you so much.

Frank puts his hands under the table. "And now you're making life difficult for me again."

I'm silent for a while. Then I say, "Have you ever considered, you know, having fun in ways that don't hurt other people?"

Frank leaps to his feet, and there's a flash of thin, serrated metal in his hand that makes my heart stop for a moment. It's a knife! Frank shouts, "How about you add another death to that list in that f***ed up brain of yours: cut into little pieces! I might even hide the pieces in lizard-guy's supply of meat!"

Frank throws the table aside and takes a step forward. I feel Sett's tail bump my ankle. He's stepped in front of me! "Wait!" I shout, knocking my chair over as I scramble backwards.

Frank stops. "What?" he spits.

Good, he stopped moving. I don't need Sett getting hurt because of me. "If I don't show up tomorrow, everyone's going to think that you did something to me."

"So?" Frank growls. The hand holding the knife tenses up.

I would be rolling my eyes right now if not for the knife. "You're still going to kill me? Think really hard about that."

Frank hesitates, then lowers his arm. "You're right. I'll wait until after I win, then Shasta can wonder why everyone says his food tastes funny." He storms to the door, unlocks it, and storms out.

I collapse in a chair and let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding in. A minute later, Sett flickers out of invisibility. "That's not a Human. That's an Underworlder pretending to be a Human."

Shasta flickers into view immediately afterwords. "That's an insult to Underworlders," he says.

"Not funny," I mumble, pressing my palm to my forehead.

"Not meant to be," Shasta says, shooting Sett an irritated look. "What was the point of all that?"

"I can't tell you," Sett says. "Actually, it's Michael I can't tell, but the fewer who know the better." He turns to me. "Don't worry about anything," he says before heading out the door.

Shasta and I stare at the door. I mutter, "Shasta, thanks for being here in case things got out of hand."

"You're welcome," Shasta replies.

"Do you have a spare bed at your house?" I ask. "I don't feel safe."

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Up next: The Crystal Truth

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Like I said before, Chaotic belongs to TCDigital.

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