MurderVictim
Kaithe Dame
Blizz
EchoicChamber
mickilennial
Tally Dor
AlteredTundra
Lionhearted
Infinite Cosmos
Blazion
Cafe Sucre - Window Table.Wheels hopped the curb as Rita came upon Sucre. She braked quickly, the bike whipping ever so slightly out from behind her, although she did not lose her balance and easily regain control. She dismounted and chained the bike to a pole, doubtful that there was someone looking for a bike to steal but not too certain that there wasn’t someone looking to pull a prank on her. Her hair had been whipped every which way by the wind, but the ride had been nice and a very much needed moment of relief. She went to smooth her clothes, only to catch a glimpse of Martin in the window; her mouth made a little O as she gave a wave that was close to her chest and hurried inside.
The person behind the counter looked up from their phone at the chime of the bell, and Rita glanced between her and Martin. She gave her friend a complicated hand gesture, which might’ve translated to, “I’m going to go order something, because it’d be weird not to, although it’s even weirder not to say hi to you first, but things already seem weird between us, and I might not get back up once we start talking, and then they’ll think I’m some weirdo mooch who can’t afford a drink, or you’d feel obligated to buy me a drink, and then I’d”, you know what, maybe it didn’t translate at all. She reached into her pocket and pulled out what might very well be her last five dollar bill. Enough for a cup of tea, a tip, and dinner from a vending machine later that night before spending Sunday and the rest of her week flat broke and racking up credit card debt until she found a part time job.
“Hey,” she said as she sat down, drawing the word out as if to exercise caution.
Rita looked down. Where to start? Apologize for being a total bitch to him at the camp, or apologize for ignoring him since she had moved out, dodging texts and conversations as if she were the last nerd in gym class on the team opposing an army of jocks with red rubber balls? She stared at the lines on her finger, which appeared to be little more than the doodling of a bored girl with a sharpie. She couldn’t possibly jump right in, say, hey, I just sat down, and this is crazy, but also I might be, so help me maybe? She drummed her fingers on the table. Her lips parted.
“Thanks for coming,” she said, glancing at him before looking back down. Better than silence, but not by much. "Um..."
"No need to thank me, I was dying for a reason to see you."
That came on kind of strong, made it sound like he was some guy in a movie that had been waiting to see his girlfriend. It was true though, he had been dying for a reason to see her. The fact that they'd gone so long without contact had worn on him a little. She was the steadiest person that he'd ever had in his life and he had been so excited about going to college with her. He had pictured being able to go to lunch with her and to talk about their classes. Instead, he'd been spending his time trying to avoid shadows and imaginary tattoos on his neck.
He took in her appearance, trying to steady his anxiety by remembering that she was just Rita. Even if she had gotten angry with him and avoided him for almost an entire month, she was still Rita. He couldn't dispute that he'd heard about some of her more bold comments lately but that didn't change the fact that she was Rita. He wasn't about to lose his best friend over one snippy comment at a camp with an axe murderer.
"Let's cut to the chase, chickadee." he offered her a lofty smile, "I'm sorry for uh. . ."
What had he done exactly?
That had been the trouble with this. He still didn't exactly know what he was apologizing for. He wanted a way to take all of the blame on himself but that was hard when he wasn't exactly apologetic about trying to reassure her. Whatever, he hadn't come here to try to back out of his own apology. He had come here to make things right and then discuss all the other terrible things.
"I'm sorry for reassuring you. I didn't think about how idiotic it sounded until you pointed it out to me." he couldn't help but notice how awkward his own voice was sounding, he was starting to chew his thumb nail. "This is going to sound cheesy as hell so forgive me for ruining my whole gloom and doom image but I was trying to. . . I don't know. I was trying to convince you that I wasn't going to let anything happen to you but I realized in all this time that I've had to reflect over shit, you don't need my protection or my reassurances. We're not one single unit. I forget that sometimes, I haven't had many friends."
She kept her eyes on her steaming cup of tea, watching the water change from a muddy clear to a reddish brown. A faint blush had risen to her cheeks, and she pulled in her lips to hide her smile. She bit down on them, hard, but not hard enough to draw blood, when he brought up what she had said. She still couldn't look straight at him; all she could muster was an occasional cursory glance at his hands or his chest. Eye contact was out of the question, otherwise Rita feared he'd be able to read her like a large print book. She fiddled with the tea bag, up and down, up and down.
"I know. I meant what I said when I called you a loser," she said bluntly, and then gave a little chuckle. "But that's not a bad thing. I like that about you. Another thing we have in common." She looked up at him and raised her tea cup. "To having no friends. Well, almost no friends."
Her eyes narrowed. Martin was trying to hide it, but there was definitely something dark on his neck. A bruise, maybe, or a tattoo, but he had never struck her as the neck tattoo kind of guy. She didn't really know what the neck tattoo kind of guy was like, but she knew it wasn't like someone like Martin. She looked directly at him, gestured at his neck, and asked, "What's up with that thing? Did you lose a bet?"
The sigil on the fingers caressing her cup of tea dimly glowed.
"Oh, that."
For some reason he couldn't place why he'd been so apprehensive about talking about this. He found that he wanted to tell her about it. Had he been silly to think that it was best to hold this off until they talked everything out? Why had he changed his mind so quickly? It was as if some kind of fog had come over him. The compulsion to respond was a little overpowering. Weird. "Rita, believe me when I say, I wish I knew." he responded, the words spilling out without any grace. "I woke up the day after that whole catastrophe, I was a little loopy on pain meds and I looked in the mirror and I fucking screamed."
He found himself folding his collar down and tilting his head to the side to show her the curling mark. It started at the base of his collarbone and ended at the bottom of his jaw. It was wispy, curling, and a dark, inky black. It stood out starkly on his pale skin. "Just like a little girl, I shrieked. I scrubbed it for like a whole hour. My skin was bleeding and it was still there and at that point, I just kind of decided, I'm insane."
He laughed, it was a sharp sound that didn't seem like he found it all that funny. "No one and I mean no one could see it. But then! Today!"
He slammed his hands onto the table as if for dramatic effect, "Hagan fucking Rosefey, who hates my Goddamn guts goes "Nice tattoo, faggot"." by the time the word vomit stopped, he was looking kind of winded and very confused. "I wasn't supposed to talk about that yet. Can we rewind?"
"Yeah, of course," said Rita, pinching her sleeve and pulling it over her left hand. So, the mark of the beast had appeared for Martin the same time it had for her. She should've showed her arm to him right then and there, but for some reason she hesitated. He didn't want to talk about it yet, so she used that as her justification. It wasn't lying if he didn't ask. She slid her left hand down to her knee, and took a sip of her tea. "Sorry for bringing it up."
"And, uh, I'm sorry for avoiding you. Really, I am. I just didn't know how to broach the subject and I figured you were still mad at me, so I kind of...just sucked for a while, I guess." She gave a pained smile. "I wish we could rewind things to before that night. We could've just hung on your couch and made fun of crummy romantic comedies but, no, I wanted to be adventurous. Now I can hardly sleep at night, and when I do..."
She shuddered and changed the subject, her eyes lingering on her drink.
"Is your shoulder feeling better?"
"It was partially my fault that we went, I just had to be the starving artist and seek inspiration in the wilderness." his mouth pressed into a thin line, the mention of her nightmares hadn't gone unnoticed. "All I dream about are shadows."
This was said sort of cryptically, albeit Martin had a habit of being cryptic. He didn't really know how to explain the shadow dreams or the flashing lights. He hadn't even explained everything to Hagan, not that he was even sure that Hagan wanted to hear about it, but it was just too weird. It wasn't like telling someone that he could play guitar or he could juggle. "Hey, I think I'm affecting shadows." was this whole other ballpark of crazy and he wasn't even sure that he believed it.
He knew that something abnormal was happening but he wasn't a fucking superhero. Even if he was, this was an exceptionally useless power. "Oh, it's fine. I think. The weird thing about throwing yourself in front of a guy with an axe is that you don't really consider how you're going to land."
He knew that it shouldn't funny but it actually kind of was. He'd misjudged his landing in an almost comically bad fashion. If he had been able to review himself in that moment and if it hadn't been so harrowing then he would have laughed. "I'm lucky that I wasn't hacked into two equal sections but I can't help but wondering, was it really worth it? My doctor told me I was brave but honestly I'm just a just a dumbass. That was stupid shit that I pulled."
He leaned forward on his elbows, regaining a bit of his usual confidence around her. "How have you been occupying yourself without me? I know it must have been pretty traumatic. Have you been doing okay?"
"No."
It was a flat, honest response that surprised Rita as she said it. Normally, she would have brushed the question off with an "I'm fine, I'm fine" and that would be the end of that, but a no? A no demanded more. And before she could even think to stop herself, she was telling him more.
"I'm not okay. I hate this place. Everywhere I go I wander into an argument. Everyone I talk to seems like they just want to beat me with their baggage and then place the blame on me. I'm practically broke because of your mom overcharging me for rent, and I can barely study. And you know that girl who freaked out on me? I tried talking to her again to bury the hatchet, but I ended up just saying horrible shit to her and made her look like a complete lunatic. And the worst part is, I kind of liked it. I liked it a lot."
She looked up and locked eyes with him.
"Does that make me a horrible person?"
"Yes and no," he answered honestly, "It's horrible because I feel that you should have taken the high road because I have a superiority complex and that's what I would have done but it's not because I completely understand why you'd want to get back at her. There's more than a few people that I'd like torment."
Why did he keep doing that?
He was saying things that he didn't even want to say. What was possessing him to be so upfront about all of this? His life goal was to be unflinchingly honest but not to the point that it hurt people. He didn't really know what had gotten into him but he didn't like it. Sometimes you just didn't say certain things. Telling your friend that they had done something terrible was one of those things.
Rita deserved honesty but couldn't he have worded it a bit better? Preferably leaving out the superiority complex bit?
"I'm sorry, that was kind of blunt. I'm not really sure what's going on today, I'm kind of talking before I think. I'll try to contact Alice though, I might be able to get her to refund some of your money." he shook his head, "If it makes you feel any better, things have been shit for me too lately. Nothing quite as bad as that though. Who knew that your secret talent was to get people to spill their guts?"
He actually looked apologetic for a moment, "I hate that you've been here for such a short period of time and you're already being driven out by the locals."
He didn't dwell too much on how things had been bad for him, there was no need to address it yet. He planned to cover this all in one sweep. "I'm already kind of shoving my foot in my mouth so I might as well address what I was going to address. First I have to ask though, are we cool? No more avoiding and dodging my texts?"
His voice was warm when he said, "I mean, I've missed our movie dates and it's just not the same without you."
"Yeah," she said, hesitantly, and then reached out and put her hand on his as reassurance. Martin hadn't done anything wrong in the first place, yet he was the one trying to make amends. A shot of guilt resonated through her heart, and with a squeeze she let go of his hand. If he looked, he would've noticed the lines on her fingers. "We're cool."
"Although, it doesn't make me feel any better that things aren't going well for you. And I don't want you to try and get the money back. Seriously, I was the one who was irresponsible with my savings; I wouldn't be able to accept it." She shot him a serious look. "So don't. I can just get a part-time job somewhere like a normal broke college kid." She dropped the look and turned her gaze out the window, as if she was already searching for opportunities where she could become a wage slave. "You said there was something else you had to address?"
For a moment, he'd thought he'd seen something on her hand, like ink stains. Could that be it?
He gathered together his will, scraping at his nail polish as he tried to figure out how to breach this subject. It had been easier with someone that he didn't care about seeing him as crazy. Though, that conversation with Hagan had gone surprisingly well and if Rita could see the mark then that meant something. "I found that mark on me when I woke up after everything happened but not only that, I've been having these reoccuring nightmares about shadows. They're not even like. . . I don't know, something feasible, they're not shadow people with axes or anything. They're formless sometimes. They're animals or monsters other times but they're always shadows."
He laughed a little awkwardly, "I have this mark but not only do I have this mark, Hagan has a mark."
Now was as good a time to test this as any and it wasn't like he was a weapon of mass destruction. He'd been doing it unintentionally for way too long now, maybe with some focus, he could make it happen intentionally. Just like a light switch, he focused on making it get dark. His neck began to faintly glow and the cafe was plunged into a cloak of darkness. It was like the lights had flickered if flickering lights could take out the illumination of the window with them.
They came back all too quickly, and he was glad that the place wasn't too packed. "That keeps happening. While talking to Hagan, I came to the genius conclusion that it probably wasn't just us. That's where you come in. Rita, do you have a marking?"
The plunge into darkness caught her off-guard. Stranger still, the barista behind the counter didn't even seem to notice.
"Yes, I do," she blurted out, then clumsily tried to retract the statement. "I mean, no, I...I don't know."
Why was she even trying to keep this secret from Martin? She pulled down her sleeve and held up her left arm so that Martin could see the four lines that wrapped around her fingers, coursed down her palm, and came to a frayed end at her elbow. She left her sleeve pushed up.
"It showed up after the...after the attack. Nothing I do will make it go away. But, but I can't do anything like that," she said, staring at Martin with a hint of apprehension in her eyes. She leaned forward, supporting her chin with her left hand. From where he was sitting, Martin would be able to see the dull glow of her sigil as she asked, "How are you able to do that?"
"I don't know, I focused? It has to do with the mark, I think."
The glow hadn't slipped past him, it was just like his own marking. Every time things went black, he glowed just the same. She may not have been able to make the lights go out but she was doing something. Hagan hadn't activated whatever his marking was when Martin had spoken to him, but this was further confirming his theory that these did things somehow. His was something to do with shadows, that was what he knew for sure.
He held out his hand to her, intending to take her hand so he could get a closer look at the marking. He hadn't been able to observe Hagan's, it wasn't easy asking a guy if be could have a closer look at his chest. "You're doing something with your mark, Rita. I don't think it's as simple as mine. Has anything out of the normal been happening? I know you said people have been spilling their guts to you lately, is that out of the normal for you? I mean, I've only really had my experience with you and I have an honesty policy."
She let Martin take her hand.
"I don't know. They're not nice when they're telling me those things, so that's pretty much par for the course." Her brow furrowed behind her bangs as she chewed on her cheek. People hadn't been this brutally honest to her in the past; usually it took a few weeks before they hit her with the disappointing truth. She kept her eyes on their hands as she asked, "Have you always been honest with me?"
He turned her hand over between his, his thumb tracing over the lines that marked her skin. "I try to be,"
He wasn't prone to lying or choosing to omit information, though he definitely wasn't perfect. He didn't think to mention everything and there were things that slipped his mind. He trusted Rita with his life and that meant that all of his information was as good as hers. It would always be strange to him that he'd found someone that he clicked with, someone that he could see in his future. Rita was the kind of friend that he didn't want to lose.
It was good to be in this with her. He was glad that whatever divine being was handing out markings and magical powers had chosen them both. He laced their fingers together and smiled at her. "There's nothing that you could ask me that I'd feel inclined to lie about, keep that in mind."
Rita could've accepted that. She should've accepted that. Yet, it wasn't the answer she wanted. It was vague and noncommittal, like it was marked with an asterisk. She knew she shouldn't doubt her only friend, but she couldn't help it. Why didn't he just say yes? Even if it was a lie, it was a solid answer. There was no wiggle room. Now there was, and already distrust was seeping in to fill the cracks. Her nails bit into his hand, pinning it to the table. Obviously, she wasn't strong enough to actually keep his hand down, and she didn't press hard enough to break skin, but it wouldn't feel good. She glared at him, and the lines on her arm flared.
"Did I fucking ask if you tried? I'm serious. Have you always been honest to me?"
Her outburst had startled him, though not enough that it would have caused him to blacken the room out again. He could feel the pressure of her hand on his and her nails digging into his skin. It was that strange compulsion again, the one to answer her without holding back. "No, you didn't ask if I tried. I haven't always been honest with you, if your definition of honesty includes telling you everything."
Before he knew it, the words were trickling out of him. "Rita, I can juggle, I never really talked about it because it was lame. I live for attention, I dress like a Hot Topic reject because my mom never gave me any when I was a kid. I want to go vegan to inflate my own self righteous ego but I figure I don't have the dedication to commit to it. I once had a turtle but it died, I took two weeks out of school to cry about it. I'm allergic to cats. My doctor didn't actually call me "brave", I just really wanted to pretend like someone had. In fact, I believe she told me that I shouldn't have risked my life like that. I can't spell the word rigorous off the top of my head. I was almost diagnosed with dyscalculia as a child but nobody followed up on it."
His brain was spinning as years worth of garbage was tumbling out of his mouth, "When I was six, I dropped my mom's wedding ring down the drain because I wanted her to get mad at me, she didn't. I once cut a girl's pigtail off because she called me ugly, it was in second grade, I got in trouble. My mom still wasn't mad at me. I hate my dad, he tries to win me over with expensive gifts and he's currently cheating on his new wife. I have a step brother but I like to pretend he doesn't exist because he's got a life that I would kill for. I'm kind of an insomniac though I figured that was obvious because I'm always exhausted. My favorite movie is Interview With The Vampire, I own all of Anne Rice's novels and I'm very pretentious about it. I liked Twilight. I wish dogs liked me more but they tend to scare me. In middle school, I kissed one of my bullies and got my ass handed to me. Most importantly, I'm ga-"
That was it!
"All of the truth and none of the filter, you can literally wring the truth out of people. Holy shit, that's cool and terrifying."
"But I didn't even do anything," she said, pulling her hand back. She was positively exhausted by Martin's outburst, and not entirely convinced that what the last thing he had said was true. How could anyone force someone to compulsively tell the truth? Then again, how could anyone plunge the world into darkness? Of course, he could just be feeding her false truths and pretending as if she was pulling it out of him. She couldn't figure out why Martin would do that, but it made more sense than her being a human truth serum.
"Okay, so if what you say is true, which, to be honest, I don't really believe it, then we could test it. I can go ask the barista a personal question that she'd never tell a stranger." She flashed her eyes at Martin and her mark glowed, but he would no longer feel the obligation to tell the truth. "Will you back me up?"
"I wouldn't have told you any of that if it wasn't spilling out of me like a broken faucet." he responded, he was feeling a bit uneasy with the things that he'd said. He'd almost went on a spiel of all the men that he'd thought about kissing in the last few years, that would have been embarrassing. He only kept those things in because they didn't do anything to move him forward, they were just things but now they were things that Rita knew.
He had almost told her that he was gay. Why hadn't he done that yet?
Though the questions seemed to have lost their affect, he was still very curious of what Rita could get out of people. Call him morbid but if she could make him admit that he only put on this goth gimmick for attention then he was sure that she could get anything out of anyone. "Of course I will, let's see what happens."
"Okay then."
She slid out of her chair and approached the counter, giving a look over her shoulder to make sure that Martin was right behind her. She mulled the question over in her head. She could ask something very embarrassing or extremely personal, something about her sex life or a deep, dark secret, but she shook the thought from her mind. She needed something that was concrete; something she could fact check. A spark of inspiration came over her. Rita reached into her pocket and grabbed her phone.
"Excuse me," she said, getting the barista's attention. "What your email address and the password to your account?"
The woman spilled forth the information with a look of bewilderment on her face while Rita typed it into her phone, showing Martin that she now had access to the other lady's account as she swiped down through the columns of spam, bill notifications, and job postings. A devilish smirk appeared on Rita's face, and before the woman could call her out for, somehow, stealing her information, another question was already on her lips. "What's the worst thing you have ever done?
Her life just got so much more interesting.
Martin hadn't meant to create a monster, and now that Rita believed him, he wasn't going to just let her exercise this power in all the wrong ways. He very lightly wrapped his arm around her shoulder and guided her away from the counter with minimal force. "Come on, Mistress of Evil, I'm glad that you believe me now."
He didn't blame her for wanting to test her powers out but he also didn't want to bear witness to the slow mental decline of a woman spitting all of her information at a college student. This was amazing though, he didn't know what the hell had happened at that camping trip but it had left them with something extraordinary. He had the ability to affect shadows and Rita could make people tell her anything that she asked. He didn't know what Hagan could do but it had to be something.
It was hard not to feel a sort of thrill, this wasn't normal but he was excited. "Rita, this is something else. I mean, your power is a thousand times cooler than mine but we have powers."
He pulled his phone from the pocket of his coat, intending to send a message to Hagan but instead catching sight of the time. He was more than positive that the fire alarm had ended by now and he was pretty sure he had a class to get to. He hadn't thought he'd get so caught up but he was glad that he was glad he was on good terms with Rita again. He had mostly cared about making amends.
"So, this is gonna suck but I think we should head back." he ran a hand through his hair, a smile surfacing. "I've got a class to catch and I'm figuring that the fire alarm can only ring for so long before they fix the issue. However, maybe we can catch a movie tonight, if you're not too busy becoming a super villian."
"I will push decorating my evil lair to another night," she said, giving Martin a hug. All of this still felt crazy, but she would stress about it later. She walked over to her bike and unchained it. "See you tonight."
