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HAUNTING PRESENCE

HAUNTING PRESENCE

22: HAUNTING PRESENCE

//

10:36 P.M. // 10 - 24 - 2023 // Arc - Housing District

Starring Zendolyn Ato

//

My knees and feet were beginning to go numb. Sweat dripped down into the convergent point of my paintbrush hair. I breathed heavily.

In…

And out…

Again, I steeled my resolve and pushed my finger into the sheen—

An instant surge of energy and breath was sucked out of me into the mana barrier, and a dizziness overwhelmed me, and I gasped to recover the sudden drop in mana. I grabbed the side of the desk and leaned forward, my hair brushing against the carpet ground. I wasn’t ever going to get used to this.

But it was necessary.

Steadily, I regained my focus, and my breathing began to even out. Three times was enough for the day, when I woke, before work, and before the nightly music writing sessions. I wondered how high my mana regeneration was for this to work so well.

I slapped the mana barrier’s sheen, a shock running through my arm, and stood up. The mana began to conspicuously pulsate beneath the glass dome cover. A second later the contraption released with a small hissing noise, and a small opening surrounding the base of the mana barrier was revealed. A familiar blue light engulfed the room for a moment, and then everything was normal again. The dizziness was subsiding.

It should be on now.

I quickly checked my watch and opened the fitness app. Air quality, recommended time for cardio, weight training stuff, blah blah—oh, nice. The mana density was 0.36, good enough to soften noises but not mess too much with my ears.

I dragged my feet to the side of my bed and stacked the pillows on top of each other, then swung my legs up over the laptop onto the bed. In another swift motion the back of my head hit the pillows and the laptop landed onto another pillow I had pulled onto my legs that I had bought not long ago for my comfort. I opened the laptop and plucked the headphones from atop my nightstand.

The soundtrack was finished by now, with just a few bits and bits here and there for me to mess around with. Now I just needed to fiddle a little with the lyrics…

It was a very riveting piece, one that bounced between so many thoughtful places to the strong but muted beat. The beginning with the humming of Zen’s rich harmonically spaced musings, I decided to widen that part and make each wavelength taller for me to better time the lyrics to the beats.

Hmmm…

Uhh…

Mmm…!

Mm?

I tested my voice into the new mic. “See, so strange—blech, that sucked.” I grunted. “See, so strange, this world blends… to… to… no. No, the lyrics suck.”

I sulked for a second. And then blinked. What if I… got inspiration. From a Memory…?

========================

Answer

Memory

Overtake

Will you use a Guide?

Yes//No

========================

The screen stared at me. I could only stare back. I hadn’t seen one of these in a long second. Its dim light that no one else could see, the Guide was a hauntingly dark color as if dark mode had been turned on.

My eyes started to hurt a bit from dryness, so I blinked, and then flinched.

There was another screen.

========================

‘Zendolyn Ato’ has been presented with a task:

[Choose Overtake]

Penalty for failure:

[Target will be uninspired]

Reward for Quest: [Choose Overtake]

[Lyrics and title of the song]

========================

My mouth slightly gaped open, and then I closed it. Was this system trying to help me? But quickly I lost any semblance of concern. Frankly, this wouldn’t have been anything close to the most absurd thing I’ve read in a system story.

I was living in a cliché, and now the world was starting to move; if I, the side character, was being moved by the system, then the story needed a push. And that meant I was a part of that push.

A smirk lingered on my face, and then disappeared as I accepted the prompt. I couldn’t move in my skin, my face was locked in place, my breathing wasn’t my own. I was watching everything from the lenses of my own eyes, but yet it still felt wrong. Like I was watching a movie of myself. And then I—not me, but my body, began to sing.

“I’m awake now… or’s I’ve been told… a lie’s been told, to me!”

Zendolyn had taken over my body.

//

??? // ??? - ??? - 2014 // Seoul, Korea

Featuring Junseo

//

Jun pushed open the uninviting grey door into his apartment.

“Mom, I’m home.”

The lights in the house were dimmed, and he could hear music coming from the TV as he pulled the shoes off his feet. Putting his bag onto the ground in front of him for the next day, he walked into the kitchen in a hungry trance. He was drained of energy, and all of the muscles in his body were sore.

“I don’t have homework today.”

Expecting no response, he pulled open the fridge and scrounged for any leftovers from the night before, and found scrapes of kimchi fried rice in a small bowl. Jun took it out and put it on the counter beside him, and not in a hurry he pushed the white stool beside him and stood on top in order to reach the microwave. The door swung open, and then to a close with the bowl inside. It lit a warm orange with the press of a button and the pleasant sound of the microwave and smell of food filled him with a childish happiness. At least it wasn’t like last year, when he had to climb onto the counter in order to reheat his food; he really was getting taller.

The music reached its climax from the living room, and then came to a spectacular end with all of the idol boys yelling out their group’s name, and he could hear his mom cheering as well. He had heard it a million times and remembered most of it by heart.

“Jun,” his mom finally called from the couch. “Are you hungry?”

He responded boredly, “I’m eating dinner leftovers.”

“Sure, sure. How was class today?”

Finally, his eyes lit up a little. “Oh, geumdo today was so cool! Mom, did you know that coach recommended me for Nationals? I’m so excited—”

She knocked in with an annoyed tone, “No, son. I mean dance and singing.”

Jun paused.

“It was alright, I guess. I mean, Ms. Sami complimented me a few times. She said I needed to work on my legs.”

“More compliments than everyone else?”

“Umm… yes? Mom—”

He turned around, hearing footsteps, his mom walked in behind him. She smelled like alcohol, and a drunken smile spread across her smooth and pale face. “Good job, son. Very good. And about singing, I heard from Ms, Minji that you are the best in your class in a very nice email.”

The microwave began to beep. “… yes, Mom.”

She stepped beside him and opened the microwave, taking the hot bowl out with her bare fingers and took a plastic takeout spoon from a drawer, sliding it into the food. Then, bringing it out to the table, she spoke again.

“Jun, can you dance for me like you did yesterday? I and my friends want to see your improvements.”

He frowned, still following her. “Aren’t your friends all those obsessed idol weirdos, Mom?”

“Just do it. I’ll let you join the National Geumdo competition or whatever if your dad talks to me about it.”

“But, Dad is overseas in America—”

She made a sharp cluck with her tongue and set the bowl onto the table, and I jumped into the chair.

“After you’re done eating, come into the living room. I’ll record you there.”

“… okay, Mom.”

//

4:16 P.M. // 10 - 25 - 2023 // Saint Hospital

Starring Gwen Olynn

Featuring David and Aythe Siena

//

The rush of indoor air conditioning blew into my face as the glass doors to the Saint Hospital slid open. I shortly greeted the man behind the front desk, and he smiled back at me, handing me the little name card which I attached to my Arc uniform.

“Are you here alone?”

I nodded.

“Well, have a nice visit, Gwen.” His eyes returned to the computer screen.

Walking further in, there weren’t many people wandering about this time around. The afternoon sun streamed in through the large vaulted windows high towards the ceiling, the smell of hand sanitizer wafted from every corner of the hospital, even in the elevator up.

The door opened, and a pale nurse in the blue outfit and a facemask stepped into the elevator as I passed by him.

“Good afternoon, sir,” I said quietly to him as the elevator door was closing. I remembered him; he and I were always passing by each other in the elevator. Plus, it was hard not to notice someone so handsome, but he also had a sort of brooding air to him. He was even in the Ward once when I was visiting the patients in Ward 105. The man had glanced at me and then immediately left the room without a word.

Like usual, he didn’t acknowledge me, and the doors closed. Then I returned to my own usual state of not caring about him.

I gingerly opened the door into the Ward. There was the sound of hushed whispering coming from one of the beds, but otherwise everything was exactly how it was the last time I saw the ward yesterday; a clean tabletop, the sink, the computer, all straightened out and shining from cleaning chemicals nicely. The windowsill by the far end of the room was swept of all the dustmotes, the curtains labeled with everyone’s name.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

“Who is it?” Someone in the room asked.

“Ah, good afternoon, Mrs. Samson,” I recognized her distinctly deep voice. “It’s me, Gwen.”

“Welcome back, Gwen,” she responded, her voice as tired as always. Of all of the patients in 105, Mrs. Samson was always the most tired one. I wondered if that meant she was the most affected by her disease. Luckily it wasn’t infectious. “Honey, say hi. She’s the wonderful girl who comes every day that I told you about.”

“The one who knits everyone cute little things but still hasn’t given one to you?” A man, probably Mrs. Samson’s visitor, poked his head from behind the third curtain. “How… ah, sorry—afternoon, Gwen!”

“Good afternoon, Mr…?” The man slid back on the rolling chair into view. There were more noises in the background, like two of the patients at the end of the room were talking to each other. The man’s face looked like it was missing a beard; like a very friendly bald barber, a rounded baby face, but with a kindly gaze from his blue eyes. Who was he? I was kind of ashamed to hear that come from his lips.

“He’s my husband, Gwen,” Mrs. Samson chuckled as her arm appeared from behind the curtain, assisted by the man who relieved her staggered steps. It looked like she was about to go somewhere, gripping her IV drip along with her husband’s arm to support her. She usually didn’t laugh, so something must have amused her about our interaction.

“Ooh, yes…” I struggled for words for a second, “yeah, nice to meet you, Mr. Samson.” My backpack hung loosely by my side as I had taken it off.

“It’s Rogers,” he corrected me without any animosity, “we kept our last names separate.”

I nodded my head understandingly. “Are you two going to explore the hospital right now?”

Mr. Rogers replied, “Yes, we are. Johanna needs to move her legs so they don’t get stiff. It’s not healthy to lay down all the time.”

The two began to walk out from their section, and I remembered something. Searching through my backpack, I made a noise to them as they were passing by and grabbed their attention.

Mrs. Samson turned her head, “Excuse me?”

“Uhh—yeah, sorry, I meant to give you this. It’s a bit late, but it’s not because I don’t like you or something, it’s just… I mean… sorry, never mind,” I pulled the two small bee plushies out of my backpack, and her face slightly lit up. “I’ve been working on this for a while. I know you haven’t gotten something from me yet, Mrs. Samson, but that’s because during my visits, I’m umm…”

She looked at me inquisitively, and nodded as if she wanted me to proceed.

“Umm, well,” I timidly continued, slightly nervous and embarrassed in the presence of Mr. Rogers however kind his eyes were, “I noticed that you always squeeze your hands really tightly whenever you’re talking, or doing anything, really. Cedrance talked to me about it as well, and he noticed it too. So, it took a little bit longer for me to make this for you, but…” I handed her the two plushies, which she accepted graciously after releasing her IV drip. I hadn’t lied to her; it had taken me a really long time to knit the plushie together. Stuffed inside was cotton, and on the outside of the bee little holes for her to put her finger through so it could both be squished and stabbed as a way to release nervous energy. “Well, I designed it to help you release your energy without hurting yourself.”

I bowed my head. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it done sooner—”

“Thank you so much, Gwen,” Mrs. Samson said slowly, and there was tenderness in her voice like I had never heard before, softened so much I doubted anyone but I and Mr. Rogers could hear her. “You didn’t have to do this. You didn’t have to do anything, like the other kids.” I looked up into her eyes. Her smiling eyes. “And yet you do it anyway; adorable little dolls and toys, articles of clothes and your daily companionship. I don’t know how to express my gratitude to you, dear Gwen. I truly hope you never lose this wonderful side of you. My deepest thanks for your gifts, Gwen.”

She handed the bee plushies to Mr. Rogers, who beamed at me. “I’ve never seen my wife like this, even at home. You’ve made her real happy, kid.”

I tried blinking quickly, and then turned my head away. It was hard to hold back the little peppered tears that held my sleepless nights and my tiredest days in them. But when it stopped, I simply bowed to them again.

“Thank you, too, Mrs. Samson and Mr. Rogers.”

I couldn’t contain the grin on my face.

The husband and wife walked out the door in the aftermath of relative silence.

“Gwen? Are you still there?” It was from the singular child of the Wards that snapped me out of my post-gratitude shock.

“O-oh! David, I’m coming now.”

A moment later, I pushed in a rolling chair towards the curtains and then next to the bed. David sat there boredly on a black tablet, with a video playing from it. He was still donned with the adorable octopus hat I had sewed for him.

“Hey, Gwen,” he lifted his chin casually up, eyes still glued to the tablet.

“How are you feeling today?” I asked him.

“I’m just okay.”

“Just okay? I mean, did anything happen today?” I asked him, “Did you go outside for a walk, or did a visitor come, or…?”

David put down his iPad. The last time I saw him, he had a book. “I just came back from a walk, actually. Oh, and someone did come today,” he added, “he left not that long ago as well. Like, a minute or something before you came in. I think he was one of the nurses, but he doesn’t really look old enough, and he also comes pretty often when you’re not here.”

I frowned. Was he talking about the quiet and handsome nurse that always passed by me? “Did he talk to you about anything?”

He shook his head, “Mm, no, but he talks to Mrs. Samson sometimes. Anyways, do you have any stories for me?”

“Uhh… well,” I thought for a moment, “yes, actually. Did I ever tell you how I came here to begin with?”

David shook his head again.

“How long have I been doing this? Two weeks, now?” I chuckled to myself. Two weeks of no sleep, spent on studying and knitting, and still no signs of Awakening. “Eh, anyways, it started when I first dragged Avil to train with me near the end of the first week of October, when the first practical exams were announced… or sometime around then.”

“Is Avil that really short guy with long purple-y hair that also comes here?” David asked.

A giggle escaped my mouth, and I felt a need to justify it as he gave me a look of confusion. “David, he’s seen you just as many times as you’ve seen me. Yeah, that’s him, he has even-day rotations here, while I have odd. Today’s supposed to be our day off, but I thought you guys would be lonely so I came. But that’s beside the point—”

He cut me off innocently, “Is he your boyfriend?”

I hiccuped in surprise, but then regained my composure to the best of my ability. Gwen’s heart was beating fast, not mine. “No! No, he’s just a childhood friend… right. Don’t look at me like that! I mean, we’re also next door neighbors outside of school, so if we seem close it’s because we are, literally and also as friends. David, please don’t pry like that again.” I forced my breathing to slow down, and I felt the red of my ears cool.

“Sure, sure, whatever,” David snorted. “Keep going. You stopped telling the story.”

My watch buzzed a notification which I paid no mind to.

A short one note breath, I rolled my eyes. “You sound like you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t.”

“Think whatever you want, but keep it to yourself, you bullcrap bucket.”

His laughter was genuine, and he clutched the sides of his stomach as the childish joy spread throughout the room and infected me with another giggle.

“I’ll talk, I’ll talk. So, while we were sparring with each other—actually, it happened before we could even begin. Anyway, two brawny Awakened idiots began throwing hands with each other. Guess who they were; don’t guess, it’s the two idiots that never come into this ward. I feel bad for the people in 106. But back to the story, it looked like they were having fun, like their sparring session was literally only meant to disrupt us. Like, there were craters everywhere from their battle, and Avil was stuck beneath his shield because all of the rocks flying everywhere were really dangerous, and I couldn’t really do anything.”

“Uh huh.” He nodded.

I decided to leave out the part where I ran in after Avil and saw him with snot and tears all over his face. Another notification.

“We were saved by a teacher,” I continued, slightly tempted to look down, “and I heard something like, her reputation was a really scary lady. So after escorting everyone out with a paralyzing and mind controlling thingy Awakened ability, it was just 5 of us left. Oh yeah, Cedrance was there too. So she told us to make up for the damage that we didn’t even cause, we had to volunteer here. And that’s kind of how I got here.”

—bzzz

“You should check your watch,” David pointed out the obvious. I agreed, and the watch hologram appeared in a small screen over the watch.

And my eyes widened upon reading the message.

“What is it?”

I couldn’t speak for a second.

And then panic overtook me, and I stood up. “Sorry, I just realized I had something coming up. I completely forgot about it.”

“Wait, Gwen?” David called my name as I swung my backpack over my shoulder and began to walk out. “Gwen, where are you going? Gwen!”

“To meet someone,” I responded back to him in the straightest voice possible, but it quivered so much. Before he could say something else, I left the room. Opening the watch again, I called up a number.

I wasn’t allowed to run in the hospital.

I couldn’t run in the hospital.

I wanted to run.

Seconds passed, and he picked up.

“Hello?”

“Aythe,” I said with a sort of harshness, “I need a favor from you.”

“Hmm? Hello, Gwen. I never thought you would have the guts to actually call my number.” His voice was a little quieter than usual. “What is it that you want?”

I really didn’t want to talk to him, but he was my only option right now. I had no money and no time to wait for the car at 5:30.

“Please send over one of your drivers to the Saint Hospital.”

I bit my tongue as my finger began smashing on the elevator’s control panel.

“And why should I do that?”

The door closed too slowly for me.

“Please. I need to go quickly.”

My heart was pounding. Why was I in such a rush?

Was this Gwen’s doing again?

The beat of my heart began to steady into a more sustainable rate. I should cancel this. I didn’t need a driver. Was I out of my mind? Why was I in such a hurry?

Avil would be in the school hospital by now. He would be more than safe.

And then a screen flashed before my face.

========================

‘Gwen Olynn’ has been presented with a task:

[Get a ride from Aythe’s driver]

Penalty for failure:

[Death]

========================

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

Death.

No.

I can’t die.

I don’t want to die.

Not yet.

I really don’t want to die.

Please.

Tears came to my eyes.

“Please, Aythe. Please, send me a driver.”

I don’t want to die.

The line was silent.

“Consider it done. But I’ll be expecting something in return.”

I was so dizzy.

My head hurt so much.

The horrible groans in the background as I walked out from the elevator were nothing to me.

“Johanna! Johanna, are you alright?!”

Echoes from miles away, the world was spinning in circles.

“Someone, please help my wife! Help me lift her, she says she’s in terrible pain, and the things she's been hearing are getting louder. Please, someone save her!”

It.

Was.

Agony.

My feet found themselves tangled, and I staggered sideways. I blinked, and found myself in the bathroom, staring at the mirror. Someone was barfing over the toilets. My face was haggard and paler than ever before.

At the same time, there was a peaceful expression that wasn’t my own.

I hurled.

Oh, my God it hurt so much.

The lights were flashing.

And then darkness.

And light again.

It was the screen.

Death.

The air raggedly exited my mouth.

I didn’t want to die.

The bathroom door swung open again, and a blur fitted over my eyes, and they closed.

Opened again, and I was walking outside the hospital door.

Psychedelic swirling black cars bloomed before my eyes as I pulled the door open and fell inside.

An unclear voice from the man in black.

“Where would you like to go, young lady?” He glanced at me from the rear view mirror.

“To Arc,” I managed breathlessly. “Arc.”

“As you wish.”

“Is she in the car yet, Agent?”

“Yes, Master Aythe. We’re moving now. It looks like she’s almost passed out. This girl’s face is like some kind of doll. Creepy.”

“No need for stating the obvious. I can see from the camera. She’s probably awake.”

“Heh.”

“You already know where to take her, right?”

“To the disposal room.”

“No one is going to remember someone as unimportant as her. It’ll be fine.”

“Understood, Master Aythe.”

“Oh, look at that. Did her lips just move? Why, you say? Well, Gwen.”

Aythe paused.

“It’s because you’re important to Cedrance’s best friend. There isn’t any other reason, so die quietly, alright?”

“Ah, it’s the feisty middle finger. Do you need me to put her to sleep, Master?”

“Yes, yes, go ahead. But I need her alive for another minute of interrogation, alright?”

“Consider it done, master.”

A noise like a call ending. The man in black said nothing as he turned to face me. I couldn’t move. My head was going to explode.

He raised his fingers into the air. I felt mana coalesce in him, my own mana being drained. I could see the handle of the mana weapon the man was controlling that extended over my head.

And the last thing I saw was the faintly visible shadow on the seat next to me. It watched me, and I felt a cold air as my eyes rolled into the back of my head.