Parasite
Underneath the Atlaan municipal courthouse, between the secondary aquatic Atlaan courthouse, was the jail holding cells for criminals, thugs, ne'er-do-wells, and hooligans.
Ace was still being processed, hours later since he arrived because nobody could figure out what to do with his friendly pet rock. Ace sat, naked and humiliated on a blue plastic chair, undressed, complying with the guards, and they surrounded him in a circle, trying to figure out what to do.
The clinical lights, minimal furniture, the white, large tile floors installed for easy cleanup, with a speckled pattern were standard and cold. The inside of the room was freezing, and Ace could feel his family jewels recede into his body.
The Rock was not pleased with the treatment of his friend. They took said rock, put it into a contamination box in a separate room, and when one of the guards opened the door to return, there The Rock was, staring at him, menacingly.
No one wanted to touch it anymore after multiple attempts to remove it from Ace of more than ten feet. It sat on a wooden table up against the wall, rapidly changing colors, and then turned white.
A soft ding went off as if a small electric cooker was announcing it was done and everyone panicked.
“What does it mean,” one of the guards asked.
“I don’t know, I’ve never heard it make a noise before,” Ace shouted.
“Turn it off!”
“I can’t turn off a rock!”
The three guards, in their brown mustard uniforms, mulled over what to do. It wasn’t dangerous, just creepy, it didn’t release anything radioactive, and they assumed it was some strange ability.
Ace insisted he had only one, his paperwork asserted this was true, and now the guards allowed him to get dressed, finally remembering that they forgot to give him the standard uniform.
It was white, with the words ATLAAN CORRECTIONAL, on the back in black, bold letters. It was loose, and Ace found it surprisingly airy and good for the heat but the fabric too thin.
One of the guards instructed him to take off his silver and gold bracelet, and Ace complied, sighing, setting it on the table, and once again the ridiculous theatre began. Ace sat back in the chair, the only accessory left on his body was a heavy grounder, and he knew something was going to happen.
Everyone was silent as the bracelet rolled off the table, across the floor, and stopped right on his feet, clattering, the sound echoing, and it stopped. They couldn’t let him leave until each and every one of his belongings that could be a danger to others were off his person, but this simple act was now impossible because as he repeated the action per their requests, it rolled right back to him.
The administration decided to leave him in the room, door locked, someone outside at all times, and within the hour everyone in the facility had learned about the pet rock and glowing bracelet.
Several hours later, still in the same room, Ace’s lawyer Mike arrived, the only one not afraid of the said pet rock and glowing bracelet. He sat at the table right next to it, rubbing it absentmindedly with one hand going through his files on his tablet, discussing his options.
There weren’t many.
“Acheus, they’re considering charging you with the individual enemy combatant crime, ” Mike said.
“I am not a supervillain!”
The Rock turned green.
“ Ace. Don’t use that term. It’s not politically correct. ”
“I’m not one of those weirdos, tell them,” Ace groaned.
“That’s what I’m doing as your lawyer,” Mike sighed. “The video footage of the man that looks like you isn’t helping either, they think he’s a co-conspirator and a relative.”
Ace tried to stand up, to defend his honor, but they had now handcuffed him to the chair, and he sat back down while Mike continued to show him on his tablet that it was not looking good.
“They have so much media coverage that when this goes to trial-”
“You can’t stop it?!”
“You technically broke the arrangements of your bail, Ace. It’s going to trial. ”
“Bullshit.”
“It will be near impossible to find jurors who haven’t decided you’re guilty before the trial with this media circus. I’m working on it, but you might be in here until the trial begins.”
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Mike groaned, rubbed his forehead, and took off his glasses.
This was not good, his own lawyer was telling him it was not an uphill battle, it was climbing a mountain in the winter, against the wind. If you made it to the top it would be a victory but there would still be irreversible damage at the end.
“The only way we can prove your innocence is to show where you were on February third,” Mike explained. “Until then they’ve decided to offer a plea bargain.”
“I didn’t do it!”
“Ace. Stop screaming. Listen. Just listen. ”
Ace sat in silence, his future being distilled into a few pages and sentences on the screen. If he took the plea bargain he would have at a minimum thirty years, without parole. If he didn’t and was found guilty, he would be in prison for the rest of his life.
This was not appealing to anyone, even more so as Ionadians had a very long shelf life of a minimum of a hundred and twenty years, and Ace would most likely spend more than a century inside prison, a fate worse than death.
“I should just escape. I can do it,” Ace shouted. “They can’t stop me!”
The Rock turned red.
“I’m aware of Invictus, there’s no need to get into a tiff. ”
“You are?”
“My family collects celestials the way people collect stamps. Of course, I can see him. ”
Invictus sat in the corner the entire time, his cape a sad blue, and then waved once someone mentioned him, just happy to be involved, and the cape turned back to its glittering white. Ace found the similarities between him and The Rock off-putting.
He thought it might mean something but tried not to think about it.
“You can escape but for how long can you keep running,” Mike asked.
“I can worry about it once I get there,” Ace mumbled.
“You don’t even stop and think that Invictus might not help you. They choose to help you, you don’t control him. He controls you.”
Memories of Infiniti, the angry, crude, vile, watch, streamed into his mind.
I do not work for you. We are Infiniti, and you serve us.
Ace then recalled the anger he showed, quick to turn on him once he came between personal time with him and The Rock, exuding a murderous aura, turning on his own master, and he was afraid.
Invictus assured him he would never hurt him.
As long as he never hurt him first.
“I think I’m going to stay in here and hope for the best,” Ace rasped.
“Good. Don’t do anything stupid! ”
Asking Ace not to do anything stupid was like asking him to do something stupid , and spitefully he started thinking about many different ways to escape, Invictus cheering him on, promising that we can make it together, we’re partners in crime.
Mike shook his head, packing his files into his briefcase, ready to leave, and then paused.
“You shouldn’t wear it all the time. You’ll start to change. I’ve seen it in my father, my aunts, and uncles,” Mike warned him. “I refuse to touch a single one of those demons. ”
“I am not a demon! I am a god, and you are blind,” Invictus replied.
Mike continued to ignore him as he had done during the entire visit and spoke slowly, making sure Ace understood the severity of his message.
“The longer you use those things the less of a you and him there is. There’s only one. ”
The Rock turned green.
Invictus’s cape turned red again, dripping blood, his eyes black, following Mike until he left the room, trying to intimidate him. The moment Mike closed the door and left, his brave facade was gone, and he leaned on the tiled wall, heaving, dizzy.
He got out his inhaler, taking deep breaths as the security guard outside checked on him, helping him stand straight. He refused any help, and trudged along, more than happy to leave, and planned on sending an email from the safety of his loft that he would have to find another lawyer to represent him, hopefully once that couldn’t see his guardian angel with mood swings.
Ace took off the bracelet, set it on the table, and again it rolled across the table right next to him.
He didn’t put it back on.
He politely informed his pet rock and glowing bracelet that he needed some space.
They didn’t take it well.