Tuesday, April 2nd, 2069
“Would you like your parents here for this?” Ms. Stovall asked.
She had come back to the interrogation room and immediately had me transferred back to the far friendlier meeting room I’d been in the night before. Afterward, she’d explained that I was no longer being held for questioning, and that she would be right back. She had just re-entered the room after a brief discussion with my parents. In fact, I could see them both in the lobby through the window. They were holding hands, while staring into the room, right at me.
In truth, I wasn’t sure I wanted them here for this. If Morgan Hallsbrad had been a serial killer, I didn’t think my parents were going to take that news well. It meant that the threat last night was not only to my Mana Pool—that what happened wasn’t just attempted Mana Theft. Plus I still didn’t know what a ‘Snatcher’ was, but was starting to think it might be even worse than a serial murderer., which couldn’t be ‘good.’
The tone of my lawyer conveyed what might be expected in this situation under normal circumstances, though. So, I nodded, and she motioned them to come inside.
They nearly jumped toward the door, before entering and sitting down beside me. Ms. Stovall smiled at me and them. It was a reassuring look that seemed to bode well.
“First off, let me assure you the actions taken by Flair and Volt are going to be highly scrutinized. While it was just protocol to bring you to the station to answer some follow-up questions. It certainly wasn’t protocol to treat you as a criminal.
“The good news is that Brodie is free to go. From the evidence at the scene and Brodie’s retelling of events, the Police believe that it was self-defense. They have now dotted all of their I’s, or rather—I’ve dotted them for them and this will surely be dismissed in the pre-trial before it goes to court. They will not be permitted to take you in for further questioning without extenuating circumstances.”
Her voice was hard at times, like she was displeased with the police force for their handling of the case so far. She also emphasized certain words, making it very clear that the police would be toeing a line from now on in this case, but also that the forecast she predicted wasn’t set in stone. It was a strange study in contrasts—so sure and confident while simultaneously hedging her bet. Perhaps it was a lawyer thing. Nothing was true until it was proven to be.
She flipped a few pages in her folder and pointed to a line I doubted anyone but her could read. “Morgan Hallsbrad was assessed as a C-rank Awakened and is suspected to have been even higher than that. He never retook the assessment due to his criminal ties—”
“Criminal ties?” Gary asked, cutting off Ms. Stovall with the startled question.
“Morgan Hallsbrad is suspected of as many as forty murders, with possible others yet undiscovered or linked. Have you two heard of the Heartless Killer?” she asked, as their faces started to pale.
“The guy on the news, from New York?” my dad asked, his voice hoarse.
“That’s correct. According to evidence found in Morgan’s jacket pocket—he is linked to every name of the known murder victims and many more besides. The police believe he might have been a Snatcher.”
I saw my opportunity and took it. “A Snatcher?”
My parents looked at me before each one placed a hand on a shoulder in near unison. They then looked to Ms. Stovall for an answer as well.
“Yes, it isn’t exactly a well-known term. The media is told to steer clear of it—so as not to raise a panic. Perhaps it should be more surprising that they actually do what they’re told.”
She paused for a moment and then sighed. “There are two classifications of Awakened Skills that are not widely publicized. They are Cannibal and Snatcher. The first of the two means that the individual can consume and then use a Skill from an individual after they die. They do this with their own Skill. This usually results in a single very powerful Hunter—but most of these Cannibalistic Skills have drawbacks, Limits or other parameters to them. Like a maximum capacity for how many—or perhaps, how powerful of Skills they can ‘take’.
“The second type of Skill is usually far more dangerous. That’s the Snatcher. They can literally create a vessel that holds the stolen Skill, which will then allow them to transfer it to someone else. Again they can have a great deal of Limits and Parameters, but since the person doesn’t have to take the Skill for themselves—the Limit is instantly removed, making them far more dangerous. They usually sell them through black market back channels. Interpol and the FBI monitor these back door deals and usually catch Snatchers when they move to sell off the Skills.”
I swallowed hard. It was somewhat easy to forget that Ms. Stovall was talking about murder, and not just stolen property. Stealing someone's Skill was nightmarish. It was like condemning the person to a literal Hell where they lost a connection to the world around them—becoming husked, what some people described as a Zombie. Dead but still animated. Yet, the prices of a secondary Skill would be astronomical, right? It was so rare to Awaken with more than one, but to be able to purchase a Skill of ‘your’ choice. The cost was unimaginable and could motivate a person who possessed such a Skill.
“So, why was Morgan Hallsbrad not caught before he assaulted our son?” my mother asked, her voice hiding tears and anger in equal measure.
“The Police have handed that investigation off to Interpol, and they are looking into it. As of yet they can only speculate, but believe that Morgan may have been collecting the Skills as personal trophies without selling them at all.”
“Or using the same buyer,” the newly analytical part of my brain pointed out and I spoke almost without realizing it.
Ms. Stovall raised an eyebrow. “That is quite possible as well. It would drastically limit his exposure and is likely one of the first lines of inquiry the investigators will look into.” She turned back toward my parents. “I understand your anger Mrs. Flacarada, Mr. Flacarada, but I can only convey that I am not a part of the investigation into Morgan Hallsbrad. I am simply here to defend Brodie, and will continue to do so. With this recent evidence and suspicions, Brodie’s case should never see a courtroom.”
She looked from my mother to my father and then to me. “With that in mind, do you have any questions for me about Brodie’s case?”
My parents had plenty. All of which were about what we would have to do from here. Ms. Stovall was confident in her answers, which all seemed to say we just had to wait for the pre-trial court date to be scheduled and then she would have it dismissed. There was one question they didn’t ask, but my overly calm mind didn’t want to let go.
“Would anything change if I was no longer F-ranked?” I asked.
All heads turned to me and three sets of eyebrows were raised. Ms. Stovall was the first to recover and ask, “What do you mean?”
I kept my eyes on her despite wanting to turn my head to the back of the chair beside her. The chair that Smegma was perched on. He looked bored. Thankfully he had remained mostly quiet throughout the rest of the interview. I could feel his eyes on me, and somehow felt his warning before he spoke it.
“I wouldn’t tell her about me, if I were you,” Smegma stated. “First, it’s not going to help your case, and second, people with Demonic Summons aren’t exactly viewed favorably, not on most worlds. I doubt yours is any different, at least not based on what I’ve been trying to read.” The demonic bat motioned over to a police force’s cork board. It had a ton of wanted posters hanging on it that I couldn’t read from where I was seated. Not that the illiterate Demon could either, but the warning was probably a good one.
I might have rolled my eyes in any other circumstance—not believing the Imp—but instead I calmly sat regarding Ms. Stovall. She wore an expression of confusion, so I decided to clarify.
“I felt a surge of something after—” I cut off and swallowed deliberately before continuing quickly as if I hadn’t. “—after the attempted theft. It was like I was filled with some sort of power.”
Why was I intentionally acting nervous about the attack yesterday? Well, my mind insisted that I act as expected of me in this situation. I’d already drawn enough attention to have Volt and Flair suspicious of me. I frowned at my own calm thinking. Something was definitely off, and I once again considered if the Mana Connection had broken me in some way.
Was I that Zombie?
Ms. Stovall smiled and lowered her eyebrows. “Oh. Not to worry. Re-Awakenings are beyond rare. Even more so when outside of a Portal. So, there is less than a one percent chance that you re-Awakened. Not to mention the flash of light that you couldn’t miss. It always accompanies a re-Awakening. The feel of power was just a response to your Mana being used. It’s extremely common. It’s kind of like an adrenaline high and likely helped you build up the courage to save yourself.”
My parent’s looks of concern changed to that of comprehension, and I let the question drop. “Ahh, yeah—I’ve had it a few times when Mana Leeches get a bite in,” my dad said in an understanding way.
Had there been a flash of light in the shower? It was possible, but I recalled what happened on my eighteenth birthday. Ms. Stovall was right, it was impossible to miss. Another point in the column of my insanity.
Before he grew too concerned with my faraway loook, I gave my father a hurried nod and a small, forced smile. If what Smegma said was real, then I knew it wasn’t just my Mana Pool but it wasn’t like I even understood how Smegma had got here. The strange messages I had seen indicated that something more had happened. I didn’t yet know exactly what, or what the other two Skills I got were.
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Still, after hours of sitting in the interrogation room by myself waiting for the lawyer, I was pretty sure that I’d somehow inherited Morgan’s Skills. I now also knew how he could have gotten such high-leveled Skills, even if he was C-ranked on his original assessment. He was a Snatcher—I shivered at the realization that he had likely been after me for my Mana Pool.
If only he knew I had an F-ranked Pool—he probably wouldn’t have even bothered.
Still, now I had a Pool and multiple Skills! I really needed to see what Smegma could do. He’d already claimed multiple times he wasn’t a combat Summons. So what exactly was he then?
I tuned back into the conversation as Ms. Stovall stood up and said she’d bring in the detectives.
Volt and Flair followed her back in a few moments later, and after they both apologized, she took control of the conversation in a very firm but professional manner.
“I know you’re both veterans at this job and therefore must be well aware of the facts of this case.” She placed a hand on the closed folder. “Since my client isn’t a flight risk or guilty of anything save self-defense which led to a Justifiable Homicide. I request that Brodie Flacarada be released into Clara and Gary Flacarada’s care, until the pre-trial where the Judge can rule on his risk if required.”
Volt and Flair looked at each other and nodded before Flair turned to Ms. Stovall. “That’s acceptable. However, your client must be made available for further questioning if the need arises. He will have twenty-four hours to bring himself to the station once contacted. Agreed?”
Ms. Stovall glared at the detectives, but eventually transferred a much softer look to my parents. They nodded, at the unspoken question. They would ensure I made it here in a timely manner.
“I want it noted that any request for further questioning be directed to me, and I will pass it on to the Flacarada’s. Understood? Any contact outside of me as an intermediary will be identified as and prosecuted for harassment.” Ms. Stovall said, with more than a hint of a threat in her voice. The two detectives nodded with sour looks on their faces.
I raised my hand and the two detectives turned to look at me with mild amusement written on their less than happy faces. Ms. Stovall explained the smirks as she said, “No need to raise your hand Brodie. This isn’t a classroom. What do you want to ask?”
“Can I still attend school?” I asked.
“I’d suggest you—”
“We have no problems with you returning to your day-to-day life, Brodie,” Volt responded. cutting off Ms. Stovall. There was a hint of something in his voice. It felt ominous.
“It’s a trap,” Smegma said scornfully, as he made faces at Volt and Flair. “They want to see if you’ll just return to your life like nothing happened. It would indicate something missing in your head or the like.”
I’m not sure that line of thinking made any sense, as it seemed to me that anyone in a similar situation would want a return to normalcy in their life, however, I nodded to Volt and discreetly included Smegma for the astute warning.
I turned to Ms. Stovall instead and offered an explanation. “I’m just worried about failing due to extended absence, or wasting the money my parents and I spent on tuition.”
Ms. Stovall smiled at me and my parents before turning her gaze on the officers. “Very considerate, Brodie. Probably a good idea to have the officers here write something up to explain your absence. Your parents or you can probably go see the Dean of your program with that.”
The meeting went on for another hour, but it became less talking and more filling out paperwork. Once everything was done the detectives shook my parent’s hands and the lawyer’s, but left the room before shaking mine. It was strange but easy to dismiss.
Ms. Stovall gave my mother and father a hug before fixing me in place with a look. I was halfway standing from the metal chair when I saw it and debated about lowering myself back down. I chose to continue to push myself to my feet instead while meeting her eyes.
“I suggest,” she began before finding me calmly meeting her gaze. She stuttered slightly as her mouth firmed. Then she coughed before continuing as if nothing had happened. “Take some time. While you seem to be handling the attack well, it has only been a day. Your father’s union benefits will cover a psychiatrist.
“I strongly suggest you have a few sessions with one of them before you make a final decision on returning to school or not. Otherwise, wait for a call from me, or the police. With a case like this, we should get a pre-court date within the month.”
Her look paired with her words let me know that she, like the police detectives, was sensing something off with me. I also heard what she left unsaid. There was no guarantee that my current calm wasn’t numbness or the like. Something that would and could suddenly vanish. To everyone else the attempted theft—no, murder, was a huge deal.
“I think she’s also thinking that attending sessions with the psycho-person will help you look normal…” Smegma offered, giving me something else entirely to think about.
He probably wasn’t wrong, but what if this was just an illusory calm? Then I may find myself angry, scared or depressed in short order. That of course could make me unpredictable. So, I should see a psychiatrist to help me dig deeper into my current state—what Ms. Stovall seemed to be implying was only a coping mechanism.
Was it? I had a few suspicions that it might be one of the Skills I’d gotten along with Demonic Vault, but I had no idea what each one did. Plus didn’t skills require Mana to work? Just how many times today alone had I already questioned my sanity?
I nodded and sidestepped away from the bolted table and chair. Something landed on my shoulder. While it wasn’t heavy, I was still surprised that Smegma had any weight to him at all since he was able to phase through any object he wanted. Then again, he did stand on chairs and bed posts. How did that even work, anyway? I didn’t look at him, and instead made my way to the door. My parents gushed a series of thanks and appreciative comments toward Ms. Stovall, and she fended off their praises magnanimously, claiming she was only doing her job.
When I opened the door, my parents excused themselves and rushed to join me. Ms. Stovall gave me a relieved look, like I had just saved her from something she found particularly distasteful. I gave her a tight-lipped smile and exited the room. I really needed some time to myself to figure out what in the Demonic hell was going on.
I turned my head to Smegma even as I walked out into the hallway. Someone led me and my parents out of the station, and we got into the family Ford Escort. The trip home was mostly silent.
From time to time my mother would bring up how blessed we were to have Ms. Stovall on our side, and my dad and I would make noises of agreement, but otherwise no one spoke.
The only break from the silent ride was a bit of levity in the form of Smegma phasing his head through the rear window of the Escort as we drove down the highway. The demon’s mouth was opened, tongue flicking in and out between his fangs, as his head spun from side to side, taking in the sights. I realized that the magical tether he had to me meant that he was unable to explore the entirely new world he’d found himself in.How would I feel if I were placed in the same position?
Certainly not good, but I kind of was in a whole new world myself. A day ago I would never have thought I’d be in and out of a police station after an assault—with a winged Demon-Imp as perpetual company. The realization reinforced my desire to get a grip on the changes that occurred and what the benefits, drawbacks, and limitations were. I needed to figure things out soon.
* * *
“Okay, without bringing up checking my Skill Cards or Skills with a Crystal again, which I don’t have and can’t afford. What the hell do you do—other than annoy me?!” I asked Smegma as soon as I sat back in my office chair inside my room. I kept my voice to a whisper, not wanting my parents to think I was talking to myself. I’m sure they were both stressed enough with everything, and the last thing they needed to cap off recent events was to see their son talking to himself.
Especially since I had just finally escaped their over doting and awkward silences.
“I’m a Demonic Trader. I can connect you to my Sect on Candelar Five. You can purchase things with Mana, or Mana Crystals,” he answered plainly.
“Okay,” I answered slowly, trying to understand what that might entail. It wasn’t like I couldn’t buy things at the local mall using Mana Crystals. Sure, the dollar was still more widely used, but Mana Crystals were accepted worldwide. “What are the Skills Recovery and Mental Fortitude then?”
“Oh, so you're aware that you got both of those? With your response earlier, I wasn’t sure. You probably would have been a real mess today if you didn’t have that combination...”
I gasped. Not only had I reawakened and gotten this Demonic Vault, but Smegma just confirmed that the two other messages in the red window were in fact two other Skills. I shivered as I recalled Morgan’s words about being a ‘chosen one,’ a ‘Paragon.’ The goosebumps rising because that implied statement somehow now applied to me. Four Skills, if I included my Mana Pool.
Wait—the combination of Recovery and Mental Fortitude was doing what? Was that why I felt so calm, so clear headed? I wanted to be upset with Smegma but thanks in large part to that feeling of clarity, I didn’t feel the need to. In fact, my mind simply acknowledged his statement as true and then wanted to move on, I took a deep breath at that realization.
While I was glad that I could examine the events from yesterday with a mostly calm detachment, I still felt small twinges of anger. Yet to not feel haunted by the assault… It wasn’t natural—wasn’t normal. No wonder I had been getting such strange looks.
It wasn’t as though I felt like it hadn’t happened—more like it had definitely happened and I had somehow gone through all the stages of healing from overcoming the possible husking and risk of imminent death? It was only that the time required for that healing had been condensed down to hours instead of requiring a more ‘normal’ time frame of days, weeks, or even years. My brain seemed impatient with wanting me to ‘move on’ from this subject—almost seeming to say ‘get over it and pay attention to what’s important’.
What was important?
Well, my calm, rational mind pointed that out for me, too. It was along the same line of thinking that had made the comparison between the Demon's words and shopping at the local mall from a moment ago that suddenly stood out in stark relief.
“Wait. Can I buy Skills from your world?”
“Skill Cards, Yes. I’m a Demonic Trader. And no before you ask, I don’t think Demonic Vault can turn someone into a Snatcher.”
“Then how did Morgan take Skills?” I asked, thinking it odd that if I inherited his Skills when he died that I didn’t have one that fit that particular criteria. Then again, the fact that I took his Skills might mean I was—what had Ms. Stovall called it? A Cannibal…
I felt like throwing up at that thought, and decided, if I was somehow a Cannibal, that I wouldn’t be taking any other Skills from people. Never again. The thought of purchasing Skills from Demonic Vault sat better with me so I asked, “Can you show me what you have to offer?”
“Do you even have any Mana Crystals to convert and spend?” Smegma asked pointedly. I didn’t respond and eventually he sighed. “You’ll need to provide me with Mana, so I can manifest the Inventory Pages.”
My eyes opened and closed, and then picked up in pace as I blinked rapidly. I needed to provide him with Mana. Did that mean he was going to connect with my Pool like Morgan had? My disgust must have been apparent because Smegma held up both of his three fingered taloned hands.
“Don’t get all worked up. I don’t take the Mana from you, you give it to my Skill Card. I don’t fully exist on this plane from a certain metaphysical perspective and can’t force a connection to your Mana,” Smegma explained.
“Okay, so how do I do that?”
Thus began my first extremely frustrating lesson from a small wisecracking imp Demon named Smegma.