Chapter 43
Ken stared at his phone in the darkness of his room. The phone’s light washed over his solemn face. He didn’t know how long he’d been staring at his father’s contact. Seconds? Minutes? Maybe hours? Ken had lost track of the time. He knew he really didn’t want to have this conversation. It was the one his family always resisted. He needed to ask his dad about the root of his power. He knew bits and pieces, but there had been so many secrets since Ken was a child, which is why he had always viewed his power as a curse. This viewpoint drove his continuous efforts to be in complete control of his body and mind. Whenever the spirit of Samurai Tortoise emerged, it always led to pure chaos, and when Ken reappeared, he had to deal with the fallout. He only knew of one other person who ever had to deal with the spirit, and he had been staring at his contact information for who knows how long. Nevertheless, it was time for answers, even if it meant upsetting his father.
Ken took a deep breath and pressed the call button. As the line rang, his anxiety rose. He tried to breathe it away, but the anxiety was too powerful. It threatened to overtake Ken. Instead of stabilizing him, Ken’s breathing reduced him to a shaky mess. His mind raced through all of the possible outcomes that could arise from this call. Just as Ken was going to hang up, his father answered.
“Ken, is everything alright? Do you know how late it is?” Ken’s father said in his most concerned voice.
“I am….mostly fine,” Ken said after a beat. He could feel his father’s concern grow, so he continued to speak, “I need to have an uncomfortable conversation with you.”
“Ok,” Ken’s father said in a tense tone.
“It is about my power…” Ken said, trailing off.
“Ah. I suspected this day would come, eventually,” Ken’s father lamented.
There was an awkward silence between father and son, neither one of them knowing how to start this conversation. Finally, Ken spoke to break the silence that, in reality, had only lasted a few seconds but, for both of them, felt like an eternity.
“How does my power work?”
Ken’s father sighed on the other end of the line, not out of annoyance but out of reluctance and possibly fear. Ken wasn’t sure which it was, so he waited patiently for a reply. “Our family is cursed, Ken, you know that. The demon that lives within you is my fault. It was once my curse to bear, but when you were born, the spirit transferred to you. For that, I will ever bear responsibility. Your mother and I always wanted children, and for so long, I delayed for fear of damning my own child. I truly wish I could have given you a life without this burden to bear. But you must be precise in every action you take. If that spirit is released, it could take you over and will destroy our family.”
Ken wasn’t sure he bought into all this “cursed spirit” mumbo-jumbo. He had never once been shown or told about one instance in his family's history where "the demon" was released or took over the host body completely. The world understood enough about how meta abilities are passed down genetically. The main difference being that usually, the previous generation did not lose their abilities, and usually, the next generation’s abilities were variations on the previous ones. He suppressed an annoyed sigh. This was the default answer he had been given his entire childhood whenever he had asked about his powers. Ken knew this story already and could feel his anger rise, so he curbed his emotions before he spoke. “Father, I need real answers. I need to know how this power really works. There has to be more to it than ‘beware the Tortoise’s curse.’”
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“I don’t know Ken!” his father shouted. Ken was taken aback. His father never lost his temper.
“I Uh-” Ken stammered before his father cut him off. Tears threatened to well up.
“I’m sorry, son. I didn’t mean to lose my temper. When I was that parasite’s host, I didn’t transform but a handful of times. Only in emergencies. Even then, transforming seemed to make things worse.” Ken’s father seemed lost in memories of the past, fear shaking his tone.
“But why does he have to be so… chaotic?” Ken asked as gently as he could.
“I don’t know, kid. I never really explored that question. There was no point. My ambitions were always in the business arena. I never sought the spotlight of the Heralds. I married your mother in spite of who her sister and father were. All I know is that the origins of the spirit date back to around the time America’s metas were first discovered. And, somehow, or for some reason, it decided to infiltrate only our family line.” Ken’s father explained.
“So, What happens if our family line ends?” Ken asked nervously.
“The demon will be released,” His dad spoke with a grave tone that Ken had never witnessed before. It was as though Ken could feel the pressure of all of his ancestors bearing down upon him. He suddenly understood why his father was so critical of him. He despaired at his son’s seeming inability to keep this power at bay.
“But if I have a child, then it will definitely be passed down to them? For sure?” Ken gulped.
“Correct. And for that, I am so sorry, but it is the only way to protect the world from our family’s terrible secret: our great curse.” Ken’s father said. “I wish I could provide you a cure.”
“And, how are you sure of all this?” Ken asked.
“Stories, son. Passed down from father to son as we are doing now.”
Ken was speechless. His choice, if you could even call it that, was to either curse his future child with this terrible burden or release it unfettered and potentially destroy the world. Ken could scarcely breathe, his body shaking and sweat pouring from him.
“I’m sorry, son. I love you, Ken,” his father finally said before hanging up.
Ken’s panic only got worse after his father hung up. The room began to spin, and Ken felt like he was going to throw up, so he rushed to the bathroom. As quickly as he could, he lifted the toilet seat and knelt in front of it, dry heaving. Instead of vomit, the only thing that came from Ken’s mouth was a silent scream. Tears ran down his face as he released all his frustrations. The building stress of The Culling, his failures in the last challenge, and the earth-shattering conversation escaped through his scream. There, on the floor of his bathroom, he once again lost track of time.
Slowly, Ken collected himself and got up off the bathroom floor. Thankfully, he was alone. He didn’t want anyone to see further signs of his weakness. He walked to the sink, turned on the cold water, and splashed it on his face. He couldn’t manage a cold shower. He could barely stand. When he looked up, he caught a glimpse of Samurai Tortoise in the mirror’s reflection. The hallucination stood over Ken with a comforting hand on his back and a look of sadness in his eyes. A deep pain at being misunderstood and labeled without having a say in the matter.
Ken turned around as quickly as he could, only to see the empty space of the bathroom. He swiveled back to the mirror. It had just been his own visage. But he knew what he had seen. How could something so evil show such compassion and sadness? Ken stumbled out of the bathroom and back to his bed. He flopped on his back and stared at the ceiling, pondering what he had just witnessed, and wondered if his father’s fears were clouding the truth.
Ken could feel slumber approach, but before he drifted off into blessed sleep, he had one last thought. His father was terrified of Samurai Tortoise, and Ken’s own fears had caused his failures at the first challenge. Ken knew he had to explore this power more in lower-stakes situations. He couldn’t make the same mistake his father had and let fear control him. He would be the first in his family to give Samurai Tortoise a real chance to show his value, as long as he didn’t cross any moral lines, that is. That defined Ken’s next task: he needed to find a way to talk to the spirit inside him, and he needed to do it sooner rather than later.