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Chapter 10: Popobawa Coming

THE VOICES WERE BACK THAT Thursday night… after returning home from the hospital where she had fainted...

…Jane had turned in early to sleep after, a light-supper and taking her medicine. She then…

… had an instant dream – of walking into a blind-dark mind-tunnel, with voices echoing both from the in-and-outside…

… her cursed diamond-shaped ‘scar’ on her upper forehead, lit up luminous – as her 3rd-eye was ‘seeing’ – and guiding the blind-girl, walking through the dark-void – like of a coal-miner.

Led by the indistinct voices of her BFF outside, the blind-girl walking without her blind-cane. She felt extremely ‘light’ in weight, if though ethereal-like. Jane realized that she was ‘not’ physically gaiting there, but as an aura-spirit… flowing in her own-dream…

Soon…

… she was floating along the corridor of the hospital’s coma ward – and was hearing Alicia’s voice talking Hokkien inside, to her ‘mother’ present – as she distinguished, by the word ‘Mummy.’

But when Jane got to her bedside, Robin was ‘not’ there and so was the voices that had disappeared. In-through her 3rd-eye… Jane ‘saw’ a blurry form of Alicia, in-comatose on the bed, hooked up to beeping monitor.

“Ali, can you ‘hear’ me?”

She got ‘no’ response, from the before ‘chatty’ Chinese voices of Alicia’s mind… which had faded…

… Jane kept calling her name but got none-reaction…

… like the time she visited her in the evenings – where she heard Ali’s relatives having a one-sided conversation with her. Robin, Alicia’s Mummy would be the closest seated on a chair, at the bedside, and used to talk to her the most. Robin would give her seat up for blind-Jane to sit – during her brief-visit because she was her daughter’s best friend.

But blind-Jane would only clasp Ali’s hand – and ‘not’ speak, but sob in silence.

Now, Jane’s aura sat on the empty chair at the bedside and held her hand on Alicia’s. This time, she had a lot to say – just like they used to hang-out at her bedroom after school, where on her Queen-sized bed – they spoke everything under the sun and stars.

She was her best friend…

… where she told anything and everything because Alicia ‘listens.’ This time, the blind-aura had so much to tell, and update of every façade of her ‘secret’ life, as a part of the Cursed-trio.

She spoke for hours until she was drained tired – and from the chair… she levitated-over, and slept along-side of Alicia, in her bed – hugging her, like they used to, when they nap during times at the bedroom on her Queen-sized bed...

… Jane’s aura dozed off…

… a moment later…

… an AURA-OF-AN-AURA of Jane… sat up… and saw both the girls asleep…

… the glimmering-aura then entered Alicia’s mind, to FIND THE ‘VOICES’ that had-escaped…

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LEO THE LION WAS SLEEPING AFTER HE WAS DRUNK, leaving-Venus in peace, to continue her prayers to Apollo. Mercury was still meditating, in a still-pose on the floor.

The Mother of Virgo had a ‘vision’ from Mars the Roman god-of-war… of how the ancient Rome was then, in the dawn of times…

But it was different history in the Rome of 753 BC… and BY reversed-karma – where both the rivalling twin brothers Romulus and Remus were wolf-puppies, who were always fighting. Venus separated both the pups and held them both close to her chest …

… to comfort their waring-thoughts. The pacified pups soon suckled into her tits…

-O-

…Venus was aroused from her ‘vision,’ by further knocking sounds outside… and she mentally unlocked the door, of the Cube of Apollo – TO LET MERCURY’S aura in… from wandering in the oblivion outside. The Red-demon looked weary from walking a distant back, alone from the desert.

“Have you found the answers out there?”

“No, and yes, and Vee – I don’t know…”

Mercury sighed – and reached out to an unfinished bottle of Leo’s imported-liquor and gulped the entire bottle in a single gulp.

“Well?”

“Well, I fought a man-wolf out there – and defeated him and before he escaped-me, but-he revealed of this certain mortal – MAGGIE WONG – who is haunted by the Fu-dogs… wait a minute, I thought – fu-dogs are the hell-hounds of Asmodeus… I was there when the Old-man won a wager in a game of Mah-jongg, with the Orient demon-god of the sea, Qianliyant – who on that day, lost both his prized pets, guard-door-dogs, of the Gates of Hell…

“I would soon be hunting those 2 dogs and kill them – and I would later, devouring their delicious livers, yum-yum-yum…”

The demon smacked his lips.

“Stop it Mercury – you are always ‘not’ focused – and easily diverted by your sin of gluttony – when our main worries and concerns should be on preventing Asmodeus to walk on earth, on the full blood-moon in the Sphinx!” Said the annoyed Venus.

The drunk-demon laughed.

“It’s because I am hungry now, dear…”

“Shouldn’t you be practising fasting and abstinence?”

The demon laughed again.

“That is the nature of my ‘beast,’ where the Old-man had ‘cursed’ me to be, where – once I defeat my foes… be it demons or beasts, and I would then – devour their livers.”

“You used to be a ‘decent’ Roman-god whom I had admired, prayed to…… and fell in love with – but looked at you today…!

“... since you were one of the early gods, who ‘sold’ your soul to Asmodeus, and since then, you have been so ‘your-self’– and irresponsible – ‘forgetting’ the-cause ‘that’ you had ‘started’ ... for the mutiny in the Underworld, to set all the old-gods free.”

“For your information, Vee – I did ‘not’ sell my soul – but was tricked the bloody-All-Father.”

“Whatever...”

The demon was-now was angry…

“And-then, you left me in-search of better-gods… splitting your legs wide-open for their favours – why, you ‘are’ the self-serving-bitch – ‘not’ all Virgos are virgins, and yet, yet-yet, I bloody still love you, don’t you know that!!?”

“Why can’t you let go of your feeling for me...? We ARE ‘NOT’ GOOD for each other!”

“And yet, of the scores of gods out there, in the heavens – you had chosen to love ‘one’ useless and mediocre of the monkey-face-African-god-tribe instead! That bloody Leo over there is drunkard like me… so WHAT DO YOU ‘SEE’ IN HIM!!?”

“O, you want to know ‘what’ I see...? You ‘see’ a beast-in-him... but I see a deep-compassion and kindness in Leeu – and he also protects me…

“... where else, YOU WERE ‘NOT’ AROUND ME most of the time... with you going-off to some mindless adventures with your Father-Jupiter – and, what makes me angry is that YOU DON’T ‘LISTEN’ TO ME... but Leeu here... he-does!”

Mercury and Venus heard a roar behind them… of an annoyed Man-lion…

“Oii! Quiet there – you-all are noisy, like some hyenas in-heat!”

The drunk Leo looked over his shoulder… and SAW THE REBEL Mercury, seated on the floor, and leaning on the wall of the cube…

“You! I will deal with you later…”

The jungle-beast went back to sleep, mumbling…

“… woman… put some clothes on – I don’t-like any other-demon ‘looking’ at you…”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

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HAJJI WAS HUNGRY AND PENNILESS… hiding in his new-hideout, an abandoned warehouse. He had gone-dark, hiding from the law and – went off the digital-grid too, by ‘not’ owning a cellphone and its internet access.

All-he owned was his 2 guns…

… and a motorcycle which, he had borrowed from a zoo-colleague…

… which he not’ returned it back, since the kidnapped the Wilson-boy – but…

… he had changed the bike’s number-plate, which he had ‘stolen’ that too.

It had been 36 hours since he last ate something – since moving to the new hideout since the LAST HORDE WAS breached by the 2 hunting dogs…

He had been surviving on bottled water… ever since the fund of his last salary, as a zoo-keeper at the zoo, had dried out. With ‘this’ rainy season… his hunger-pangs got greater – but-too feared going out in the ‘day,’ where search surveillance drones were flying around… that could ID his black-face…

… since its ‘night’ now, it was safer to go out…

He loaded bullets in his stolen Smith and Wesson pistol, and tugging it at his back…

… and kick-started his bike and rode off – to ‘hunt’ for money.

-O-

Like a vulture-on-wheels, he had preyed-on the streets, of low dense-crowd – when he thought it was safe, as he chanced upon, what he ‘thought’ was a middle-aged businessman… returning home late from work. Hajji threatened him to hand over his wallet… but it had ‘no’ cash in it.

A hungry-Hajji was an angry Hajji…

… who had-then argued with the man, of why his wallet had ‘no’ money in it – and the terrified man responded, that he used an electronic-wallet to make his payments and purchases – and that was ‘why’ there was ‘no’ paper-money, in it. The life-threatened businessman told the criminal to take his credit-cards… and spare his life…

… but what good are those… when he had an African name.

The angry Hajji used the butt of his pistol, and hit the man’s face several times, breaking his nose and teeth. The Nigerian cursed at the businessman sprawling on the pavement in pain… before he got on-onto his bike and sped off.

-O-

Hajji went to the other side of Perth, for his 2nd attempt-strike… and saw another younger businessman – and did a similar stick-up routine. Hajji was disappointed to find only $20 of his emergency-fund – and THE NIGERIAN ARGUED – why as a young-abled person, he had ‘no’ money.

This man’s reason too, was he ‘used’ an electronic-wallet.

He hit the man with his gun – and the bleeding from the head youth was apologising and pleading for his life. Hajji cursed at him, before riding off fast.

It was his bad-luck of a night… in a city where – CASH, WAS ‘NO’ LONGER KING…

-O-

More bad luck came… when his bike E-ed – and Hajji had to use the ‘gained’ $20 for fuel. Soon at another part of the Greater Perth… he was in the ‘hunt’ again.

It was 3rd time’s a charm – when Hajji changed his strategy of ‘not’ going after businessmen with no-cash, and in-return target the ‘working-man.’ He found a migrant-worker going to his night-shift, and robbed him…

Thank Ojjah, he had $75 IN HIS WALLET – and the gun-man Hajji rode off, after thanking the unharmed-worker.

With money in his pocket, now he can eat a big meal. He notified a Drive-in Hungry-Jacks across the street… and rode in. Hajji ordered every-other items in the menu-board, and when the fast-food worker asked if he wanted ‘super-size’…

… and the Nigerian responded ‘why-not’ …

… when the cashier in the booth, cash-registered rang-up an amount, more than $75… and the Nigerian thought – ‘why-pay’…

… Hajji pulled out his gun…

… and shot-dead the cashier point-blank…

… before speeding off away, with the packed food.

-O-

At the police station, Det Insp Caroline Walker was having a slow and quiet evening – she even gave time-off to Corporal Patterson, for him to celebrate his first wedding anniversary with his wifey. The inspector-mother-herself wanted to go home and spent time with her sons – especially to be with Paul because she had promised more family-time with him.

But ‘the’ shootout case-report came in – she had to clock-in overtime – when patron eyewitnesses at Hungry-Jacks, revealed the description of a Black perpetrator with a man-bun – that fits her core-suspect, Hajji of the zoo-case. She hurried to the scene-of-crime, with Sargent Blunt… and investigated a dead 25-year-old fast-food worker, who was shot in the face.

This was the 2nd person Hajji had murdered in cold blood, in 2 days.

Hajji had escaped on his motorbike and was out-of-sight, of any aerial surveillances drone detection – where he had once-more, cleverly slipped-away from the law. It was another frustrating Thursday-night for Caroline…

… who had to deal with a ruthless killer on the run – who was playing hide-and-seek with her, in the vicinity of the Greater Perth.

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AROUND THE SAME TIME, AT THE WILSONS’ at 9:15 PM – was the frustrated doctor-mother who had a hard time dealing with her 2-year-old TV-addict, as he was glued to the telly and watching The Jungle Book for the 1000th time, and was self-storytelling to-himself – repeatedly of his ‘Piper-Peeta-Popobawa.’

Whenever his mother told him to go to sleep, her ‘rebel’ son-Samuel snapped at her, holding tightly to the TV remote control…

“Mummy-wait!”

“No wait-wait, Samuel – Jane is sleeping… you go and sleep too!”

“No! wait – Popobawa coming!” Said the Black-boy, pointing at the TV screen.

Shelley Wilson doesn’t know what the gibberish ‘Popobawa’ meant, as she was seated on the couch having a glass of red-wine, facing her adopted-son, seated on the floor, with into animated-behaviour and baby-talks. Her husband Anthony was out of town for a furniture business-expo trip, for the weekend – and she had ‘not’ called him to say… that their daughter had fainted in the hospital-visit, earlier the evening.

She sighed thinking of how foolish Anthony was, of wanting to start his own business at the age beyond 50 and, was ‘not’ around her, as they were to together, watch their children growing up. Instead, he was using his ‘own-family-business’ excuse – and was damaging his personal health, with late-nights of excessive drinking and smoking with clients.

The mother managed to coax Samuel to surrender the remote-control when she said to him that Jane was going to the pool in the country-club tomorrow, and he would ‘not’ go if he was ‘not’ upstairs now and sleeping.

Her baby-boy loved the water, the last time on Sunday – when the Wilson family minus Anthony – on their first visit to The John Blake Country-club. Shelley was eager to have Samuel join the club’s swimming class… as she had already filled-up the registration form.

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PAUL TRIED TO STUDY while waiting for his mother. The kitchen clock showed 9:31 PM when he looked. He wanted to have a conversation in-person with mom about, the inquiries he and his twin had with CTU Agent Dickson, who had some ‘suspicions,’ which was ‘more’ directed towards him…

‘… what did I ‘do’ – and ‘why’ is this man needling me?’

Paul cannot tell the whole-truth just now, so to protect both his and Jane’s Cursed-trio secret identity. But surprisingly, the agent was ‘always’ diverting his questions, TOWARDS HIM, AND ‘NOT’ PETER…

That ‘same’ CTU agent did so too, during the first time he cornered Paul, during him waiting for his e-hailing drive back home… when the school excused students, due to the poor-quality air, caused by the Perth Great Fire back then.

‘What is that you ‘know’ Agent Dickson – that I ‘don’t’ know…?’

He switched off his iPad, as he could ‘not’ focus in his Geography lesson where they were in class, studying the South-east region this week. He did put a little effort when he has drawn a little, to the little-Singapore…

… where his girlfriend-Alicia was born-over there, before emigrating over here… then his thoughts wandered, with her now in an irreversible coma.

‘Wasn’t it the house’s ‘faulty’ CCTV camera, that did ‘not’ record me coming home, on the day of the Stamford High’s phone-bombing?’

He had worked-up, recalling this missing-piece of the puzzle before, and it was indeed puzzling… he remembered coming home, and had an altercation with Peter…

… for ‘not’ in control of his negative emotions – which set off – cellphones exploding and the car batteries too at school...

… he remembered ‘threatening’ his twin by forcefully dragging him along-up, as they levitated towards the high ceiling fan…

… then he ‘blacked-out’…

… and Paul doesn’t remember of what transpired beyond that, which was now…

… with-the ‘lost-footages’ of the CCTV camera upstairs.

‘Where are you Mom…?’

Paul sighed as he thought – if she was out there, having a dinner date with Tom Harris, the principle of Stamford High, who just had his ‘widower’ status.

He was also there at the ‘interrogation’ by Agent Dickson… where Harris played the ‘good-cop’ when he defended Jane and Peter. Paul shook his head, that he should ‘not’ any negative thoughts towards Harris – as the principle-too, had let him off the hook, for the electrocution of Terry Donovan – his one-and-alone slip-up… by an unfortunate incident, of a failed science-invention.

‘One more day in school – then the weekend – and then, Armageddon-Monday…’

His thoughts muddled into a state of helplessness – and the tween was overwhelmed in fear of ‘what-to-do,’ when Monday came…

… could he ‘contain’ Peter – when the All-Father demon would regenerate in his twin’s body?

‘Mercury, where are you…? Why have you forsaken me…?’

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THE ONE-ARMED TWIN WAS RUMINATING TOO, on his own upstairs, in his bedroom. Peter was aware something was ‘so’ wrong, that would further dent his PFC brand, if he was to keep on losing ‘control’ in decision-making, in the popularity ‘contest.’

Already the other-part of the PFC brand had betrayed his ‘trust’ – by training for the school’s qualification – in the ‘enemy-camp…

… @The John Blake Country Club.

Since their actual ‘breakup,’ Peter had tried his best to maintain a cover-up, that the ‘Perth Famous couple’ were STILL GOING STRONG despite, ‘hackers’ had tried to tarnish the brand to ‘blame’ the couple, for the phone-bombing in school and across Perth, via a ‘breakup’ virus video-sharing.

‘You ungrateful, and disloyal blind-school… why did you betray me…?’

He had eavesdropped blind school's mom talking to his mom, at the Mercy & Wilson clinic – of her wanting to send her daughter for tennis training, that made him think that her doctor-mother was supportive of the PFC brand…

… but he DIDN’T EXPECT IT was the ‘same’ country club, which was the training ground of the PFC brand’s ‘rival.’

He badly needed this win in the PFC ‘rematch,’ where they had beaten Doug and Zoe, in their now, successful viral-video, of Perth.

But now, he was in 2-minds…

‘Will blind-school ‘SABOTAGE’ ME on that Match-day?’

It was bad-luck that the selection had arrived in such short notice, where the ‘deadline’ had been truncated-to next Monday…

… where he too had ‘not’ had a good-practice himself, with ‘bad’ weather, with torrential rain hampering him during his after-school practise outdoors, in the school open court…

‘… maybe it a good-thing since blind-school IS BLOODY ‘LAZY’ – and relied more on Boyyo, and ‘not’ on her fitness…

‘… and she had ALWAYS FOUND EXCUSES to avoid training with me – maybe her Dougie and senior-citizen bloody-coaches WOULD ‘SHAPE’ HER-up to be ready…

‘… but come bloody-Monday, I should HAVE ‘MORE’ CONTROL OF HER – when I will ‘watch’ her every bloody-moves and decisions that she makes on that day – and it BETTER-BE, PFC-GOOD…’