Constructive criticism would be very much appreciated. Flames too. But do bear in mind, English isn't my first language.
8
The blaring sound of the alarm clock echoed through the room, causing a certain albino to groggily reach out and silence the noise. His red eyes blinked open, taking a moment to adjust to the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. As consciousness fully returned, a sense of familiarity settled in—a sensation he had come to know all too well.
Another day, he muttered to himself, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. There was no point in lingering. He knew exactly what the day would bring—the same routines, the same activities, and the same fights.
With practiced efficiency, he went through his morning routine. He sat on the side of his bed and idled for about five minutes before doing a quick stretch. A glance at the clock on the wall told him it was almost 8 am.
Stepping into the small kitchenette, the albino began to prepare his breakfast—a cup of black coffee. The clinking of utensils against his cup and the soft pouring of his coffee created a soothing, messy rhythm, a comfort in the monotony of it all.
As he drank, he glanced out the window, watching the world outside rot and the abandoned buildings decay from the years of neglect. He found it ironic that this entire place had once been bustling, but was now only forgotten. He often wondered what would become of it all...
He continued to watch the sun climb until he downed the last of his coffee, pushing the mug away. Leaning back in the chair, he let out a sigh.
With a final glance, he pushed himself up from his seat, picked up his phone on the nightstand and headed out the door. His daily routine, the blaring alarm clock, the familiar meetings with the same old faces.
The barely lit staircase was the only evidence that something had gone terribly wrong the previous night. The limp bodies of still unconscious thugs, whom all he'd maimed for life, again, lay at the bottom, contorted in unnatural angles. Most of their faces were covered in a sickly purple hue as their blood smeared the tiled floor. The rest of their bodies lay limp on the floors, most of them unmoving, like rag dolls.
He walked down the stairs, kicking the remains aside. Clicking his tongue when one of them tried grabbing onto his ankles. The assailant's hands got bent into an uncomfortable angle. The man could only whimper and sob silently, curling up on the floor soaked blood, clutching his hands close to his chest.
He walked past the scene of the massacre nonchalantly. Out of the apartment complex he went, onto the empty streets of District 19 he's in, a place so notorious in recent years that no one was brave enough to get in without being escorted by the military. A place where the most infamous of people hangs.
Unlike the other parts of the city, this district is hardly crowded. The few people who live here know better than to venture out at night. During the mornings, it is pretty much the same. The streets are deserted and desolate, as if they have been forgotten.
The scene is very familiar to the albino.
He took his phone out of his pocket and checked his schedule. He noticed a message from that Kihara bastard. He'd only have to face one clone for today. Apparently, the rest of the clones he's supposed to kill had to undergo some extra checks. This left him with an entire day's worth of time to burn. He wasn't exactly ecstatic, but he could really use some break from them. Nearly two years straight of those blank faces was enough to make anyone go insane.
As he walked through the alleyways, he paced slowly. The air was damp; the smell of urine wafted around him as he passed by a dumpster. He received glares from people in various rundown buildings of the city.
Five minutes of cutting through various alleys, traversing through the dirty labyrinth of District 19, he finally entered the more civilized part of the city. Though, calling it 'more civilized' would just be an understatement. It was like comparing North and South Korea.
The air here is warmer, and the streets are filled with young people going about their daily routines and smiling as they head to school. It's like a utopia compared to the areas where he's been living.
It was better here, albeit unbearably louder. The atmosphere was also too sweet; it might as well have given him cancer. The people here were happy, content, and easygoing because they'd never seen what reality truly is. Behind the cheerful and delightful surface, the city's foundation was built upon unimaginable horrors and absolute terrors.
His days would be much simpler here, in this place, than the frenetic chaos of the 19th district he'd claimed as his lair. But he, the one who'd taken the mantle of the devil for power, wasn't fitting for the house of the righteous and naive.
The apathetic teen pushed the thoughts away from his head and began walking along the streets as usual. His eyes glued to the floor, his ears picked up conversations from multiple people around him.
"I single-handedly managed to successfully upgrade and deploy a new environmental illumination system with zero cost overruns and zero safety incidents."
"You mean you changed the light bulb?"
Just the normal, everyday shit teenagers talk about.
The amount of noise he was hearing was really grating on his nerves. With a simple, subconsciously done calculation completed in a millionth of a second, the sound waves bounced back before any more could reach him. The ability to control vectors had always been a convenient power to have, especially when it came to dealing with little problems like these.
Just as that thought passed through his head, he too walked past a turn, something small and fragile collided against his barrier, barely the size of a sixth or seventh grader, maybe smaller. He didn't hear them fall on their butt, nor did he even acknowledge it, but he did notice the momentum in his thoughts being reflected back at them.
Hardly half an hour had passed since he'd taken this little walk. His route had led him to a large park, offering a view of the metropolis.
It was quiet here. Usually, there were a few kids playing catch nead around noon, but the area was large enough and the distance between them is far enough for him not to have to reflect their sounds away. He mostly left it as a background noise to fill the emptiness.
What's more is that this was the place he visited most frequently even in his earliest memories. He could remember the younger him, probably around the age of eight, maybe nine, sitting on top of a monkey bar and staring up at the galaxies that filled the sky.
'To think that was only 5 years ago...'
It's the perfect place to take a breather and clear his mind. He'd be here for some time, so he came prepared. On the side of the bench, in a plastic bag, were several cold coffee cans, all black, no sugar. He wasn't a pansy like some of us people, he'd drink pure caffeine if he could.
The uneventful scenery is his only companion, and his coffee is his only solace.
He has stared off into the distance for hours, he didn't realize. The sky turns dark, though no sunset comes as the view is blocked by the massive buildings. The clouds move in different shapes and patterns, all of which are strange yet perfectly symmetrical.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, bringing him back to reality. The sun casts purple hues on the landscape, revealing the almost soft green leaves of the trees. He'd been so preoccupied with his thoughts, he had become disconnected from the world around him. Was this all he would do once he achieved his goal? Just sit around, waiting for his time to end?
He hesitated to answer it.
…
He muttered under his breath, "What the fuck am I thinking?" He clicked his tongue and brushed the topic aside. The message contained a time and an address and he had enough time left to spare.
His coffee had run out except for one. "Great timing," he thought. He got up, cracking his sore neck to get the stiffness out. He took a last drink from the can before beginning to leave the park.
Though, just like earlier this morning, something fast, like a projectile, came into contact with his barrier. It shot at him and bounced off his barrier with the same amount of force.
Craning his neck, he saw a few kids running over to retrieve their ball; it consisted of boys and girls, with the former being the majority.
"Sorry, onii-chan!" A girl with black hair, a pale skin tone, and green eyes, whose irises fluctuated between yellow and blue due to the lighting, waved at him apologetically.
He glared at them. Perhaps a little too hard, for even with the distance, the intensity of his gaze seemed to have scared them off; they all began running away.
He merely rolled his eyes, continuing on at his brisk pace. His destination was a lone alleyway. Curfew was initiated a few years back, and few should venture out after the 20th hour of the day. Even fewer were brave enough to be out during the curfew. He'd reached the destination hours into the walk. The clone was there assembling her weapon, just in time for him to take a short break from the long journey.
2 minutes in and all hell broke loose.
It all moved so fast; it took less than 10 minutes for him to end a life, and utterly ruin another. All in the span of less than a quarter of an hour.
"The name's Accelerator. Nice to meet you." Those were the last words he'd spoken that day that were directed towards someone. He'd left as quickly as the fight had ended.
He had no plans for the night and had no intention of staying up late either. He'd spent the majority of his day idling; he'd done enough idling for a day, so he just went straight back into the 19th district. The thugs he'd beaten to a bloody pulp were still lying there, turning into a freshly decaying corpse, abandoned by their peers and forgotten by the world. No ambulance would dare to venture into this territory without the fear of being possibly killed or graped. But even then, why should they care? These are just another example of what the scum of the earth looks like, and they don't matter anymore. In all honesty, no one had any concern for these types of people.
The good and the bad in people are brought out and shown by who they surround themselves with. And these ones are the worst of the worst. He ignored them and went back up the stairs.
Unlike most days, he found his apartment to be still completely intact. Usually, it would be trashed in some manner, but it looked like he had finally caught a break for the night. Surprising, but he wasn't one to complain.
His stomach grumbles, it hasn't received any nourishment at all throughout the day. He's hungry, but he can wait until another time; he simply needs his rest.
He'd held in a yawn. It was 11:59 on his clock. His head lay on the soft pillow beneath him. The fabric felt comfortable against his skin. He rolled his legs over the side, stretching his body out.
By the time the clock reached the 12-hour mark, he had been asleep.
And this particular night would change his life, for better or worse.
By tomorrow morning, no one knew what had happened to the Great Level 5. But changes were noticed.
History was rewritten when the Devil in Hell and the God in Heaven struck another deal since the days of Adam and Eve. The two sides' greatest companions have been picked, it is only a matter of time that he finally chooses a side. And thus, he was granted all the time in the world.
8
The blaring sound of the alarm clock echoed through the room, causing Accelerator to groggily reach out and silence the noise. His red eyes blinked open, taking a moment to adjust to the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. As consciousness fully returned, a sense of familiarity settled in—a sensation he had come to know all too well.
He rubbed his eyes, but slowly, he pulled himself up and over the edge of his bed. He's not as tired as he'd expected himself to be last night, nor was his stomach ready for food as early as he'd awoken. Accelerator wondered what that was about, as he stretched his arms out in front of himself, the muscles popping out in full.
His hand falls back down to his side, he makes his way towards the kitchen and fixes himself another mug of hot coffee. He might want to get some breakfast later, but for now, he'll enjoy his first cup of caffeine that day.
Upon taking a seat at his kitchen table, he'd stare out of the window. The same view everyday is the only thing that he'd ever greet. The sun is slowly beginning to creep up above the horizon. He takes a sip of his coffee, and places it back down on the table.
His eyes wandered over to the clock on the wall. It's nearly 8 am. He should've been notified of the exact location he needs to be in an hour by now. He didn't remember putting his phone away last night, but it's at the nightstand. For 10 minutes he looked at his phone, waiting for it to ring. He frowned slightly. He didn't charge it last night, didn't he? He thought. He murmured a curse word as he went over to see if it really had run out of battery.
It didn't.
So then what's wrong? Nothing. He shrugged it off and turned it on. There he noticed an unchecked message. Again, from that Kihara bastard. It was from an hour ago. Curious, he opened and read it.
Right then and there, he lifted his eyebrows in confusion. From beginning to end, everything, word-to-word, is the exact copy of the ones from yesterday.
"Hn?" he grumbles, trying to piece it together. "Was there a mistake?" he muses, looking for yesterday's message to use as a reference. He wanted to see if it truly was the exact same. He couldn't find it, not even on the 'deleted tab'. He considers contacting the old man to confirm it.
"Tch, whatever." He pocketed the phone and decided that he might as well idle around again. It's not like has anything to do, so he might as well enjoy his day again.
He went out of his apartment, not even bothering to lock the door as there's nothing of value inside. It being destroyed has a bigger probability of happening than being robbed. Even then, he could always sleep on the rooftops.
He'd reach the stairway soon enough. And surprise, surprise, the corpses are still there. His eyes twitched in disgust. He couldn't care less if they stay dead there, it might as well be their graves. But the smell might become annoying in the near future. But then again, it wasn't his responsibility to dump their bodies. He pity the land owner, whoever it is, is gonna have to deal with the police again. Probably gonna end up in jail for it.
He walked past them, brushing any parts of their still intact body aside to make room for his path. And then something tried latching onto his ankle. But fails as all the fingers holding it immediately get bent. The guy can only curl, whimpering in pain like a kicked dog, clutching his broken up hand close to his chest.
The albino was washed with a sense of deja vu for a second but thought nothing of it, glaring disgusted looks as he walked past the pathetic man.
The weather outside is the same as yesterday. The sky was blue and not many clouds were seen, but even that did not help the gloomy atmosphere of the streets of district 19. Everything is unruly and it all smells of piss and rotting, wet woods.
He walked across the deserted, broken up roads onto the pavement across the street and then went inside an alley. He has nothing to do today until tonight. He's never really had this much free time, he's used to killing clones 12 hours a day, so he doesn't have an idea on what exactly to do, soooooo… the park again it is.
Traversing through the clearly exaggerated '1000' alleys of district 19 and making his way downtown, onto the same busy streets as yesterday again. This was his favourite spot to emerge from, as it is the closest to convenience stores.
He'd tuned himself out from the chatters of traveling middle and high schoolers. But it did however, hear those particular words again.
"I single-handedly managed to successfully upgrade and deploy a new environmental illumination system with zero cost overruns and zero safety incidents."
"You mean you changed the light bulb?"
His head perked up, another sense of deja vu washed him. He looked over his shoulder to see who they were. It's two boys, about the same age, walking side by side with a red bag on their back.
And then somebody collided with his barrier, again. The feeling only strengthened after that. "What the fuck?" He blurted out and looked over to them.
It was a girl with long jet-black hair, wearing a middle school sailor uniform. To her aid is another middle schooler in similar uniforms, but on her hair lay a flower crown. The second girl helped her friend up.
"Sorry, are you okay?" The girl that collided against him sheepishly asked, obviously embarrassed at the incident. Her companion bowed, also apologizing.
He doesn't know what is going on, but it's starting to sour his mood. With his eyes rolling being his only response, he walked away and began reflecting every sound wave.
With his pace slightly faster, he managed to reach the park in record time. With him is a bag of white plain bread and, you guessed it, black coffee. The man simply could not live without it.
With his supplies ready, he began pondering on the things that had happened today and began comparing it with yesterday's events.
Kihara's message, the ankle grabbing, the conversation and the colliding. All that, exactly the same as yesterday. The odds of this all happening at the exact same time and place, is billions to one. Tossing a fair coin and getting 17 heads in a row on the first attempt, the probability is a hundred and thirty one thousand, in one.
Now billions to one? It's not impossible.
'Or is it?'
"How peculiar." The albino mused, chugging an entire can of black coffee before continuing with his train of thoughts.
He brainstormed for any ideas for a few more hours, maybe less, but at some point he stopped thinking about it and began with his idling.
He remembered the turning point of his life happening in this park. His old primary school was somewhere around here, he recalls. Down on a memory lane, he felt a small tug on the side of his lips. Before it entirely transformed into a deep frown.
Those punks, the ones who started it all. His teacher, those agents, the military, the special forces and nuclear warheads. The scientists, the Kiharas and the special class. And now, the SISTERs.
He didn't realize it, but his grip on the can grew harder and harder, leaving the can deforming and spilling bits of his coffee onto the palm of his hand.
His thoughts were broken when an orange ball zoomed past his very eyes. Surprising him. The clatter of footsteps rushing to his side prompted him to look at it.
It was a group of boys and girls, the same amount of yesterday, he counts. One particular girl, one he'd seen yesterday, briefly stopped directly to his front. "Sorry, onii-chan!" She looked worried and her breath was heaved from the running. She went after her friends after saying those words.
He blinked. He has no idea what to think of this. All he knows is that these strange events are repeating. Was yesterday just a dream? Yesterday should've been Tuesday of August 10th. He fished his phone out of his pocket and looked at the date.
"Tuesday, August 10th." He muses.
…
'Okay now, what?' Did he seriously dreamt of everything yesterday? Is that even possible? More and more questions pop up and I can't seem to find the right answer for it.
But there's one.
The SISTERs serial number was never the same. He's fought off 9982. So today should be 9983. He looked at the phone once more, it's '5:33 pm'. He's got a few more hours to spare. But there's nothing for him to do.
And like yesterday, he just walked.
He took the same routes and spotted the same people, the same cars and the same animals wandering the streets of Academy City.
The lights grew more and more dimmer. The bustling streets dispersed and people went back to their respective houses. The ones who stayed outside travel in groups or sticks close to each other.
The hours he spent walking was used to trying to answer his questions. Which, much to his annoyance, only spawned more questions that, much like the others, couldn't seem to find the right answer for.
By the time he reaches the alley, his mood is completely ruined and a burning anger is palpable on his ghostly pale face.
The clone stood there, weapon ready. She spotted the unsavoury looks. "There is still 44 seconds left before the experiment commences, Misaka reminds. Please be patient, she warns as she cocks her gun."
The albino clicked his tongue, an eye twitching. The side of his lips lowered. 20 seconds in and he began. "Your serial number." His tone clearly indicates that he's pissed. The clone looked confused, tilting her head. "Your serial number. Now." He asked again. Colder this time.
She didn't know what it was, but her heart began to beat faster. Her shoulder grew stiff and her palms slowly sweats "9982, misaka answers."
After that, total silence. The remaining time runs out and the albino gives no mercy. All his pent up anger and annoyance is to be directed at the clone. If anything, he already knows what she's planning and how she'll do it.
A wall of concrete emerged from her only path of escape, she is completely out of options but to just shoot and hope for the best. Hot leads stormed the marching albino, who took his time approaching her. Her barrage of bullets eventually stopped when she ran out of bullets. She didn't try to reload. All hope is already lost the moment she entered this place.
The sight of the albino has her knees quivering. The albino noticed her right hand grasping something on her person as she retreated. She visibly flinches when her back makes contact with the cold wall.
Her breath hitched as his hands were raised over her head. Her eyes wide in fear as he places it on top of her head. When she heard him chuckle, she started "Sto-" and at that, every bone in her body, from the skull down to her toes, all of it shattered before slowly poking out of her skin, piercing many of her internal organs.
Blood flows out of her like fountains. The smell of rusty iron enveloped the entire alley, overpowering even the scent of dust. She gurgled, gasping for air. With no structures left to support her weight, she fell onto the concrete floor. Her twitching body slowly dies as the albino stares with a wide grin.
He didn't leave until she stopped moving.
It took nearly 3 hours to walk from here to his apartment. Half an hour could've been saved had he not taken the time of getting an 8 pack coffee and then running into some punk-ass-thugs.
The stairway smells about as terrible as it could be, sure it was the same as yesterday, but the fact that he's drinking his favourite beverage when passing it can only be described as disgusting. It's as if he's drinking the bits and pieces of them. He spat it out later on.
He'd put his packs into his fridge immediately upon entering and then going straight to bed. His mind is still wondering, trying to register what is really going on.
8
The blaring sound of the alarm clock echoed through the room, causing Accelerator to groggily reach out and silence the noise. His red eyes blinked open, taking a moment to adjust to the dim morning light filtering through the curtains. As consciousness fully returned, a sense of familiarity settled in—a sensation he had come to know all too well.
He scratched the top of his head, heaving out a deep breath as he got up from the bed. He idly sat on the bedside, cracking his somehow, again, stiff neck.
After doing some stretching, he goes straight for the kitchen and opens the fridge. He was expecting to get a taste of that canned black coffee.
The fridge is empty.
"Oh, God fucking damn it, you can't serious…"
Something inside of him grew. He doesn't know what it was, but he doesn't like this feeling at all. He fished out his phone from his pocket. He finds none. His stomach sank when he looked over to his nightstand.
Slowly he approached it and turned it on. An unchecked message from that Kihara bastard. From an hour ago. The sinking feeling turns into a pit as he notices another thing. It's Tuesday, 10th August.
"That's it, fuck this shit." He loudly growled as he went through his contacts. There's barely anything in there, barely 10 numbers were saved in them, making it relatively easy to find that number.
He quickly dialed it. It rang for exactly 5 seconds before the call started.
"Hell-"
"Quit with the bullshit you old fuck, tell me, what the fuck is going on?!" He screamed right into the speaker.
He could hear him groan in pain. Must've been from his scream. "What the fuck is wrong with you?! You don't just start screaming you fucking shit! There's just an extra check up, that's all! No need to get so fucking angry about it! Can't you just kill somebody else in the mean time, you miserable fucking psycho?!"
The albino is practically fuming by now, but he did have some restraint. He knew just lashing out would be useless. "You know exactly what I'm referring to, and it's not about the bloody clones you dickhead." His tone is low and intimidating. "It's fucking Tuesday. Why is it Tuesday?!"
…
"Accelerator, you…" the old man sounded genuinely confused. "Have you been taking any drugs? This early too?"
"Oh, suck a cock you useless sack of shit." He sighed the words out. No longer did he have the energy to scream so early in the morning. But he's still pissed off about it.
"Oi, you're the one who called me!"
"Just… answer my question already. Why is it still Tuesday?"
"Because yesterday's Monday you retard."
He hung up and threw the phone towards the wall. The phone shatters into a million pieces, leaving a mark on the wall as well.
He has a general idea on what could possibly be happening to him currently. Another experiment that he isn't aware of or informed of. If there's one thing he hates the most, it would be being tested on without his permission.
And for that, he finally has a plan for today.
The plan should, in fact, stop whatever this is. All he needs to do is stop it before it could happen. Whether it be a machine or a person, all he needs to do is destroy it.
So out the door straight he walks, and down the stairway he went. Every step he took on the ragged bodies crushed their everything, their ligaments can't protect them, it never can. Their scream is the only thing that can be heard 3 blocks away.
There was a small crowd of people outside, all spread onto different places around the premises. They were all staring at him as if he'd done it again. The terrifying stares shows that he's currently not in the mood to be fucked with. They all dispersed quickly enough when the albino made his move forward.
He stopped for a second. He couldn't be bothered to travel in the alleys for now. So he took the fastest route possible.
The sky.
There's a reason why he rarely flies. Mainly, it was to avoid unnecessary attention such as Judgement and/or Anti-Skills. Sure, he can take the entire city at once, but, as he'd said, unnecessary attention. You'd sooner find him brushing his tongue with soap than saying this, but he'd admit that they have their uses.
The gravity within his barrier is completely removed, making it easier for him to propel his entire (now non-existent) weight using the surrounding air. 4 mini category 5 tornadoes burst to life from his back as it pushes him off the ground. He flies through the city in record time, reaching District 10 in less than 3 minutes.
The concentrated whirlwind of air dispersed immediately as soon as he descended onto a parking lot. The energy from his free fall is tweaked to make sure that he lands safely without suffering a minor, let alone any major injuries.
Just in time, a person who was moments away from getting out of his car seemed to notice his presence.
His face shows the wisdom he'd earned through time. He closed his door, with his back slightly forward, he walked towards the albino. "Care to explain the fuck were you calling me for earlier?"
But he seemed to have mistaken something, as the concrete below the albino cracks and shoots out a piece of earth. The old man didn't have time to react as he was hit on the side of his head, knowing him out cold.
Nobody saw the incident, and all the cameras within the area were found destroyed. Only the car key was found in the parking lot. A search party was conducted the next day.
But nothing was found. Because the old man was taken to an abandoned facility within District 19 with its entrance completely sealed.
Inside, the man's throat stung from the amount of screaming. He was stripped naked, with the only exception being his tank top and underwear.
His skin glistened, blood mixed with sweat as dust settled on his quivering, pale body. Adrenaline flowed through his veins, cuts, bruises and burn marks filling his body.
"I'm telling you, please, I don't know anything!" He has said that word so much it has lost its meaning.
For hours he begged, no longer does he have any tears to shed. His scalps skinned and his genitals crushed, nails ripped and teeth cut. He's experienced it all.
All he wished for was death.
For 14 hours all he wished was for it all to end. For 14 hours he knew that Karma had been served. All the lives he'd ruined and childhood he'd ruined in the names of science. For decades he'd never suffered any repercussions, up until now.
"I don't want this…" he quietly sobbed, his wrist burning from the tight rope tying his arm to the rotting, mites-filled wooden chair.
"Then spit it the fuck out." The albino barked as he threw an empty can at the mourning old man. "The sooner you spill, the sooner I can kill you."
"I'm telling you, I don't know anything, please."
"Tch, fucking useless."
He reached for another can. The cold can envelope his palm as he brought it close to h-
8
The blaring sound of the alarm clock echoed through the room. Accelerator's eyes snapped open as he stared at the grey ceiling in confusion. The persistent alarm clock kept ringing.
"What?" The albino spoke out loud.
His body jumped as he immediately started checking his surroundings.
It's his room.
The sinking feeling came back. If it's even possible, the albino grew even paler. His ears feel muffled, the alarm suddenly sounds hellish.
Slowly his eyes tracked over where his phone was. It's there. He gulped and reached over. Weakly he turned it on and saw.
'Tuesday, August 10.'
8
New Chapter out next week!