It was nighttime when Charlie awoke, greeted by a head-splitting headache, courtesy of a nightmare. Menat had opened the window when they first entered and now the room was clad in the chill of the night. He had slept for most of the afternoon and evening and yet he felt anything but rested. He sat up, searching for his glasses. There was no feeling in his legs, something he was used to by now. It didn't even face him anymore.
He was still very tired however and so he laid back down but was unable to sleep any longer. The headache subsided but not the ghosting pain of bullets piercing his skin. Not at first. After a few more moments, his legs began working again and he stood up and staggered out of the room, past the numerous bottles of wine. It was odd to be met with people not repulsed with what he had become. They even gave him a roof over his head and something other than berries to eat. And yet, he felt nothing. No gratitude, no happiness, no embarrassment. Nothing. Just echoed hollowness.
By now, Charlie ascended the staircase, to the floor above where Menat was. Not for curiosity but rather just to get his legs working. This hallway was dimmer than the one below with brick walls and old-fashioned lamps adorning them. There were three doors; one of which led to the rooftop of the building. It was where Charlie found himself, just to see where it led. Opening the door, he was met with a garden of sorts; plants of all kinds surrounding him. Bushes created a railing over the edge, with flowers sprinkled over them.
The city was quiet, granted as it was the middle of the night. It was drenched in darkness too except for the few buildings with light in their windows, grazed by serene tranquility with the stars shining above. In the far distance, one could catch the blinking lights of a lighthouse.
"Nash?" a voice called to Charlie, sounding distant even if it had been right next to him. He blinked as he turned around, surprised and maybe not so by Menat standing in front of him. She wore a most peculiar hood shirt with cat ears of all things, wrapped in a blanket and her crystal ball in her hands.
"It's super late, are you okay? You didn't come for dinner either."
The better question would be what she was doing at this hour. As if reading his thoughts, she crooked her head, her hand rubbing the smooth surface of her crystal ball.
"Oh me? Maggio is staying up late, playing video games and he gets loud. He sometimes wakes me up, so I go out here to practice divination and journaling until he calms down," she said, pacing back and forth before stopping again, and staring at him.
"Come with me. I got an idea," she grabbed him by the wrist. Her fingers were slender and nimble, much like her overall movements. Without many protests, Charlie let himself get dragged away from the rooftop. At one point, he cast a glance at one of the doors and they stopped. Menat looked at him then, speaking in a hushed tone.
"Oh, that's where Master sleeps," and quickly, she dragged him away from the hallway and down to her own bedroom. Here was dark except for the starlight lamp projecting astrological figures onto the walls and ceilings. Nearby, there was the noise of a game being played and a young male's voice cursing loudly.
"Lay down. This will only take a few seconds," Menat climbed onto the bed's foot end, patting her thighs as if to signify his head was supposed to be there. Charlie eyed her for a bit before laying down with his head in her lap. It was warm and soft, and it brought forth scattered memories of his childhood.
"May Soul Power guide me," she spoke gently, putting her palms to the side of his head as they began to glow a soothing purple.
A sense of calming warmth washed over Charlie's entire body. He had felt some traces of this before, courtesy of Menat before but with his body fully exposed to it, it was more intense, bringing every nerve of his alive, erasing the nightmares that plagued him endlessly. Above him, Menat was quiet with her eyes closed and a pleasant smile on her lips.
Despite how comfortable it felt, it also reminded Charlie of something sinister; there was something familiar with these powers that reminded him of his now invalid vengeance. But whatever that was, he felt in no position to pursue it, closing his eyes to drift into a deep, uninterrupted slumber, the likes of which he had not experienced in a long time.
The next morning, Charlie awoke, briefly wondering where the hell he was. He blinked the sleep away, finding himself in the lap of someone. Looking around, he saw Menat, now fast asleep. Her hands were still resting beside his face, now limp. Whatever that Soul Power had done to him, it worked like magic. As she began to stir, he sat up, looking at her with narrow eyes. Her powers reminded him of something unpleasant and he grew wary.
"Hello… I hope you slept well," she yawned, stretching and groaning.
"… What is Soul Power?" Charlie felt his entire body grow tense, his hands balling into fists. If they were friends of Bison's, he'd have to eradicate them. Even if he had nothing to live for, he would take the chance to rid the world of a Shadaloo underling. His aggressive disposition made her visually uncomfortable, and she squirmed in her seat, fidgeting with her hands.
"Uhm….the good version of something called Psycho Power. That is very bad energy which-"
The mentioning of that power drew upon something fierce and upsetting; a wave of unseeded anger beneath the apathy and desolation. Menat didn't strike Charlie as the type of person who would associate with Bison, but her powers made him suspicious.
"Is your master associated with a man called M. Bison?"
The name itself seemed to bring some level of familiarity as she fiddled with the edges of her clothes, deep in musing thought. "As enemies. My master worked hard to stop him. I fought him too though he kicked my ass. But he's gone now. Why do you ask? Did you know him?"
"…He was the one who killed me," Charlie shrugged. Even with the absolute depression of that statement, he felt somewhat relaxed when Menat confirmed the innocence of her and her allies.
"…Oh," her expression saddened.
"He may be dead, but his powers are still a threat."
"Sure. Although I like to think good people can use that power for the benefit of others."
A strong taste of something bitterness formed in Charlie's mouth, it didn't leave him when he stood up. But the anger of his end still remained, reminding him that he was alive against all odds. Unfortunately, he could also feel emotions when they were strong enough.
"Nothing good comes out of Psycho Power. Don't be naïve," he growled, feeling a tug of something unfamiliar when her saddened expression turned to worry and shame.
Deep down, there was a voice telling him that it wasn't the best idea to take his feeling of emptiness out on his host. An uncomfortable silence entered the bedroom then and it occurred to him that the man he used to be would no doubt ease the tension. Fuck that, he wouldn't find himself in the situation, to begin with.
"Tarot cards. I propose I do a proper reading on you," Menat perked right back up again.
"Didn't you do that already with your crystal ball?"
"Indeed I did," she crawled from the bed to one of the drawers, pulling out a deck of cards and she came back to the bed again, ironing out the wrinkles of the sheet with her hands before shuffling the cards. "And tarot readings are Master's forte. But I like to do them too."
"For easiness's sake, we should start with a three-card spread from the Major Arcana. The three cards represent, the past, the present, and the future! Now give me a question!" she pulled three cards from the stack, putting them in a row.
Contrasting the dreariness of Charlie's (not) life, Menat had the energy of two suns. He couldn't but scoff, wringing his brain to think of something tangible before he posed a general question; "…What is my life?"
Menat sat for a moment while Charlie struggled to feel anything but apathy. That was probably why he went along as she turned each card, a ponderous look resting on her face. The card of the past was a tower turned upside down. The present was represented by a priestly figure turned upright. The final card was a grim reaper turned upside down as well, striking an uncomfortable note with Charlie. How fucking fitting that she had pulled that card. He'd laugh if he had an ounce of humor within him. Instead, he could only sit here and glare at that stupid card and question why she didn't turn them.
"They are facing the wrong way," he said, his voice laced with unimpressed snark.
"No, no, no. The cards have different meanings depending on which way they are facing. Now let me think," she lifted her finger at him before staring at the cards again. After a long pause, she finally seemed to have formulated her interpretation, pointing at the card of the past.
"Right so for past, you got The Tower turned upright, which means something disastrous happened to you. It's holding you back and it's still affecting you. I…can make my own guess about the details," Menat said, her lips thinning for a moment before she moved to the card of the present.
"Next, you got the reversed Hierophant which usually means breaking conventions. In relation to…that disaster, you feel restricted by it. I think deep down, you probably want to break free so take it as a sign of using new approaches."
That was quite a generous interpretation. It felt so general that it could be applied to everyone and everything. But just to humor her, Charlie put some logic into it. For everyone else, that statement could probably mean something but for a monster like Charlie, there was nothing to break free of. He would only really find any salvation when his un-life ended.
Whenever that was.
It didn't matter if he took a new approach. The part that "restricted" him was something no person should ever experience and then live through. A poor imitation of life and unfulfilled revenge. A meaningless existence. How fitting for the last card of Menat's reading.
He scoffed "The final card is death. What else is there to be said?"
"Well, it's not literal death. Neither reversed nor upright. Reversed is a lack of change but upright, which is what you got, means that change is on its way. Like a metamorphosis! I think added with the new approach, you should reach a grand change in life," Menat spoke as if it was common knowledge.
Charlie was far from impressed. To him, it just sounded like a nonsensical statement, someone applied to the card because they were afraid of the ultimate end. But why have a death card then? Why even try to read the future as if everything happened for some divine reason? Things were never predetermined. Happenstance and intent were the two main factors for everything happening in this world. And they would continue to happen until the heat death of the universe. No one had the power to predict the course of their life, let alone other lives. But cold, hard logic and truth aside, Charlie let Menat have this victory if one could call it that.
"Do I look like someone who could benefit from any more changes in life?" he asked, purely sarcastically, watching as she gathered the cards with gracious, careful movements like she was handling fine sheets of glass.
"Mm, yes. In short, I think the cards are telling you to let go of your hatred and anger," she stared directly at him. In contrast to her usual, airheaded, friendly self, she seemed so serious now. For tarot card readings of all things.
"…Easy for you to say," Charlie narrowed her eyes, wondering if he should go easier on her whilst she sat and shifted in her seat, eyes now cast downwards before she began speaking meekly; "Sorry, I bet those things take time, don't they?"
Of course, they did. But they wouldn't reach an end with Charlie. They would just drop into the ether, unresolved. He didn't answer Menat as she put the cards on the windowsill, interrupted by the loud growl from her stomach. It seemed to even startle her, and she jittered in place with a hand over her gut.
"Oh, guess we better get some grub, huh?" she smiled again, climbing off the bed.
She soon stood by the door to her bedroom, beckoning Charlie to follow her as if he was a dog. He had a feeling that she wouldn't leave him alone if he declined since he hadn't eaten anything since midday yesterday. His appetite tended to come in waves. Sometimes, it worked fine. Other times, he could go without days without hunger. Whatever he ate anyway didn't taste of anything anyway. Menat would probably stare at him in horror if he told her that. Some things were best left undisclosed.
In the kitchen, there was already someone present; a young man with bright, red hair and headphones, playing something on his phone while eating white bread and chocolate spread. He seemed wholly unaware of the world around him, until Menat pulled the headphones off his head, causing him to nearly fall out of his chair.
"Huh? Hey!" he scrambled with his phone, putting it on the table and trying to reclaim his headphones, which Menat kept away from him, maneuvering around him like a slithering snake. Charlie had probably noticed it before, but she was ridiculously nimble and flexible.
"Good morning. Didn't Master tell you not to eat the chocolate spread for breakfast?" she purred, putting the headphones around her neck.
The boy frowned until he spotted Charlie by the doorway, completely stopping his pursuit, "Who's that, your boyfriend? Why does he look like Frankenstein?"
"Maggio, be nice! No, he's not my boyfriend but he lives here. This is Nash," Menat stopped in her tracks, taking the headphones off and putting them on the table. Upon turning around, her cheeks had turned a little red.
More interestingly, this boy was whom she had referred to during the night and her introduction confirmed that. "And this is Maggio…."
The boy's eyes lit up like fireworks and he jumped from his chair, heading towards Charlie like he was a pot of gold.
"Wow, finally, another dude! Do you like yo-yos? And gaming?"
Charlie liked none of those things, but he didn't get a chance to mention that as he was partly distracted by a bowl of yogurt heading his way from Menat and the sudden appearance of Rose, not looking nearly as graceful as she did yesterday. Her hair was messy, and her eyelids were puffy. She looked appropriate for someone who just got out of bed.
"Oh, you're awake, you three. Would you mind not being so noisy?" she yawned, thankful for the bowl given to her by Menat. She looked at the bread, then at Maggio with the young man cowering under the scrutinizing stare. Next to her, Menat was smugly eating her yogurt, sticking her tongue out at Maggio when he gestured at her to quit it.
Watching the three of them interact, Charlie felt wholly out of place, like he was a specter. But they had taken him in, against all odds, treating him like he was no different than them.
Perhaps, they were a little insane themselves. They had to be.