Chapter 20 – Close Encounter of the Nerd Kind II
The Alien Knows Facebook!
“Major Walsh, it is an event sociologique.”
– Claude Lacombe, Close Encounter of the Third Kind
– ▲▲▲▲▲ –
-Nicolas’ PoV -
“Shit! Damn! Fuck! Bogus! Is that even a swear word? How should I know?!”
Disorderly spouting out his cursing dictionary, Nicolas hurriedly leapt out of his W-Chair and into the shower, scattering a trail of clothes behind him.
Naked and wet – the shower, remember: he’s still a man on this side – he then stumbled into his bedroom, opened his wardrobe, and grabbed whatever seemed to match.
When in doubt, just go all black. You can’t go wrong with black. Except in summer. Well, genius, that’s a freaking fourth of the year! Although it mostly rains around here.
“♫ Here come the Men In Bl- HA! No time for this!”
He then dashed to the balcony, pulled a protesting McLeon inside, closed the windoor, then rushed to the kitchen, and emptied a can of pâté in the beast’s bowl while distractedly shoving a slice of cheese in-between two of bread and the whole into his mouth. After putting on shoes, he picked up his bag, and finally stepped outside, not forgetting to lock the door behind him, his half-assed, half-eaten sandwich hanging between his teeth.
Now, I just have to bump into my true love! Haha. Right. Like that’s ever going to happe- WOO!!
*sbam*
“Aouch!”
“Mmeeemmble*yawn*whaat? Mmmbl…”
I SAID “BUMP INTO”! NOT “TRIP UPON”!! Damn! … Besides, I’m pretty sure this is again…
Standing up and rubbing his hands he had slightly injured, Nicolas glared alternatively at his ruined breakfast and at the cause of his fall: a man in his late thirties snoring butt-naked on the floor.
True love indeed… What about my maidenly hopes, you exhibitionist bastard?! And what am I thinking? I’m no maiden. I’m a widow. … Ah! That’s not it either!! Fudge.
Raging against himself, and the world in general – something he often did in the morning, especially on Mondays – Nicolas spun on place, and repeatedly pressed his neighbour’s doorbell, harassing the white button like it had killed his – non-existent – girlfriend, or like if each push could give him back some of the time he was currently losing.
Can a mirror be considered a girlfriend? … No! I’m NOT going down that path!
After a couple minutes of pounding the misunderstood electronic device, the sound of a lock being opened finally answered his irritated actions.
The door swung on its hinges and a pair of huge bouncy boobs came out of the apartment.
“…”
Also, attached to the outrageous appendages, a sleepy woman, wearing nothing more than a frilly purple baby-doll over R-rated underwear, was rubbing her eyes and lasciviously stretching.
Glossy blond hair, a bead-head that only made her look seductively wild, kissable lips, a model’s face, beautiful even without make-up, complemented by an alluring body that would relit the molten church candle of an impotent priest, as well as the morals to actually go down on the aforementioned priest, it was difficult to believe the ironically named Mary Chaste, Nicolas’ neighbour, was in fact a young high-school teacher.
Well, when she’s not fired for preying on her students…
Some might wonder how the young man could remain so sexually frustrated while living next to such a brazen succubus, but Nicolas knew… This was definitely a case where curiosity would have killed the cat. And that the dead one would most certainly be the tom, not the pussy.
After nevertheless taking in the view – They’re bigger than mine. … Stop that. – Nicolas raised his gaze from the two oversized manjū, and into her slightly ringed pale blue eyes, deliberately disregarding her satisfied smile.
“You sure you should be opening the door like that?” he said, referring to her clothes… or the lack thereof.
“Aaaw~ But, Nico… Who except you would ring at my door this early in the morning?”
Even her voice fitted her perfectly, melting the brain of any man around, waking up their inner lying Pinocchio while firmly gaging Jiminy Cricket. If he didn’t know better, Nicolas would have though she indeed was a real succubus.
However, six months of cohabitation and daily observation of her “eating” habits had created enough of a deplorable mental image for him to develop a hardened immunity to her charms.
Well, if you put aside that immoral side of hers, she was a pretty friendly neighbour…
“Oh, I don’t know…” Nicolas answered sarcastically. “Enraged students’ parents? Debt collectors? Policemen here to arrest you for corruption of minors? A knife-wielding wife here to peacefully discuss the matter of her husband? A porn director in search of an actress? This guy?”
He punctuated the end of his appalling enumeration with an annoyed gesture towards the being slowly waking up at their feet, who was probably wondering where he was and why his back hurt like someone had stepped on it.
“Oh.” She covered her full lips with her hand. “He’s still there?”
“Well, obviously. Where did you expect him to go without clothes? Tsh. Mary, how many times did I tell you not to leave your garbage in the hallway? It’s not like there’s pickup for this kind of cumbersome used commodities.”
“Haha. Such crude humour as always Nico. By the way, aren’t you late for school?”
“I am. In fact, I wouldn’t even be losing my time talking to you if I didn’t worry that Vincent, or someone else, might trip again on your stuff. The old man broke his hip last time. Besides, don’t you have work yourself?
“No, I took a sick da-”
“Heeee…” a drowsy wheeze suddenly rose from the ground. “Mary? Why am I-”
“Shut up Brandon,” she interrupted him.
“It’s Jayden…”
Completely snubbing the dejected man, Mary closed up the distance with Nicolas and pressed her barely dressed voluptuousness against his chest, clinging to his shirt and looking at him with upturned eyes, the pleasant faint smell of sweat from her unwashed hair tickling his nose.
“You really are a good kid, aren’t you Nico? Worrying about Old Vincent like that... Or is it only about your lightened rent? Hahaha~ But that selfish side of yours isn’t bad either. Hmm~ I really want to eat you up…”
Wilfully ignoring the physiological response of his lower body, Nicolas flashed his best cynical smile and uncaring eyes, and acidly replied:
“Sorry, but I really don’t want to end up like all those poor souls you disturb my sleep with. And who are you calling a kid, you’re barely ten years older than me.”
Stepping back, Mary crossed her arms while erotically pouting… if that was even possible.
“Mmmh. You’re no fun. And it’s seven years older, Nico Single.”
“Ha-ha. I may be a desperate bachelor, but I still have some self-esteem I’d like to keep.”
“Hahaha! This self-depreciative honesty is what I like most about you. It makes me want to tie you up in my basement.”
“You don’t have a basement.”
“My closet then.”
“That’d still be illegal. Satisfy yourself with having me shut-in next door.”
“When do I get a double of your keys?”
“Never.”
“Mooo… You’re so mean to Big Sister.”
“So you’re a brocon too. It only gets better, doesn’t it? Anyway, if you sadistic man-eating demon would please provide her latest clueless victim with something to cover his…” he turned around, and paused. “That’s rather small for your standards, isn’t it?”
*sigh* “Not as much as his endurance.”
“I see… You have it hard.”
“Unlike him.”
“That bad? Where did you pick up that thing?”
“No idea. I was drunk last night.”
“Hey! I’m here you kn-”
“Shut up Brandon.”
“Jayden…”
“Anyway, Mary. Give this small performance issue back its clothes. I have to go. I’m already too late for the first lesson, I’d like to try not missing the second.”
Having already started stepping away, he threw those words over his shoulder.
“Are you sure you should talk about someone else’s performance issues? Hmm? Mr I-lost-my-girlfriend-to-a-girl?”
Feeling something snap, Nicolas turned around and walked back up to the woman, a finger adamantly raised.
“Just wait, you wench! I’ll show you my perf…” He interrupted himself seeing the foxy smile that was creeping its way on her tempting lips. “…ha-Ha-HA!”
“You shouldn’t wear your emotions so openly on your face. You’re so easy to tease… and cute too.”
Trying hard not to blush, Nicolas rolled his eyes in unconvincing exasperation. He considered himself to be quite a good actor in fact, but he just couldn’t handle being seen through. Praises also made him smile uncontrollably, as did feeling superior to someone else. Always playing the funny over-expressive guy had long since started to backfire a little, but he had no idea on how to stop his reflexive reactions, except maybe taking up acting lessons, something he thought would be a pain.
Although… now, I wonder if I should reconsider… I’m stuck in that tower. If I don’t find a way to get out of there fast, I might find myself with quite some time on my ha- Right! TIME!! I’m late! Dammit!
“Right, I’m a cute little rosebud princess with hyper-sensitivity! I’ve said it, happy? Now, go fetch those clothes!”
“Alright. Alright… I’m sure this guy’s things are somewhere in the kitchen.”
She spun on place, causing a fleeting movement in her nightdress and briefly revealing – okay, revealing even more – her sinful buttock. Nicolas quickly looked away to avoid some misplaced self-pity.
I’m not even going to ask why the kitchen… Anyway, my fifteen minutes of community service are over, I’m off.
Turning away from the opened door, Nicolas was startled when Bran… Jayden, still naked as a worm – a little worm –, suddenly appeared before him, immobile, and staring at where Mary was an instant ago.
“I think I’m in love…” he murmured in a daze.
Feeling merciful, Nicolas sharply replied:
“You’re sick dude, in the head, and naked. Get fixed. Get dressed. And get the fuck out of here.”
Finally walking away for good, he added without looking back:
“In whichever order you prefer…”
He then glanced at the screen of his W-MP.
“Tsh.”
♫ I’m late ♪ I’m late ♪ For a very important date ♩ No time to say “Hello. Goodbye.” ♫ I’m late. I’m late…
“I’m late… ♪ Fuck!”
And he started running.
– *** –
The Polytechnic Institute Saint Rose – Damn you roses… – was thankfully no more than fifteen minutes away by foot.
Set up in a renovated hospital, the school was a patchwork of mismatched old and modern parts, distorted mix of stone and Lego, Frankenstein’s monster of a building, poor victim of the tentative resurgence of post-postmodernism orchestrated by a drunken one-eyed architect probably suffering from acute strabismus.
Well, in a word like in a hundred: ugly.
Being a well-reputed establishment despite its designer’s deplorable lack of taste and common sense, the PISR <1> – fortunately not named “Saint Saffron” or “Saint Sage”... – housed several curriculums declining various practical aspects of programming, electronics, mechanics and the likes.
After three years of obstinately, and very unsuccessfully, banging his head against encyclopaedic textbooks at the near engineering academy, Nicolas had finally acknowledged his inability to grasp the unfathomable masse of abstruse mathematical formulas, whose purpose was probably lost even to the very people attempting to teach them… and he had transferred, which had proven to be a good move.
Although experience – involving a lot of parental ranting – had taught Nicolas to never presume of his – IRL – abilities, he was quite confident in his chances of success this time.
The first round of exams had come and go, and he had aced most of his tests with very little preparation, while in parallel exploring the Erwynian Undead Utopia. Not that the general level of the studies was that low, but apparently those three years in the wondrous land of Theoreticia hadn’t been a total loss.
On the other hand, Nicolas being the irresponsible human being he is, this newfound confidence had resulted in a rather sporadic attendance record, which would no doubt come bite him in the face at some point, but he couldn’t care less right now.
– *** –
Pushing open a huge glass door haphazardly glued inside an ancient wooden frame, Nicolas entered the blue-painted main hall, greeted the janitor, who he had gotten acquainted with one day he was as usual aimlessly wandering around – he still had no idea of the man’s name though –, and dashed to his classroom, bypassing an ill-placed staircase.
Once he reached the windowed door, the typical loud buzzing noise of mixed conversations coming from inside confirmed what he expected: The first lesson was already over. Fortunatly, the next teacher was yet to show up and the students were still taking a break.
Removing his earbuds – those were almost grafted to his head by this point –, Nicolas crossed the room to his habitual spot by the window and distractedly greeted the few people he was close enough with, half of whom he didn’t remember the names either. He really wasn’t good with things like names or birthdays. Most of the time, he didn’t even bothered remembering his own age. Useless info.
Back when he was still with Jenny, he carried around a notebook with all those supposedly important dates written inside.
Mad when I forgot, mad when I wrote it down in front of her… Taking another person into consideration is always so tiring… That’s why I play solo… Why do I even think about that?
Nicolas let out a sigh and sat at “his” place. On his right were an empty chair, a bag and a coat he recognised for being his best friend’s. The person himself was nowhere in sight though.
Profoundly thinking about it for a whole second, Nicolas came to a deep conclusion:
“He probably went to the toilet.”
Daniel, full name Daniel Daoud, was actually only a year younger than him, but he had been held back a couple years due to various reasons. Meeting up with him again in school had been an agreeable surprise, since he had had no idea his closest childhood friend would be attending Saint-Rose too, plus in the same section.
Has it been mentioned Nicolas wasn’t very mindful of his surroundings?
Speaking of surroundings, the tired young man was currently holding his head between his hands, entertaining the unrealistic hope of shielding his sleep-deprived cerebrum from the cacophony of chatters.
He hadn’t really noticed in his earlier hurry and emotionally disturbing encounter with Mary, but the amount of mental and physical fatigue he had accumulated over this last weekend of intensive gaming was far from negligible. The headachy backlash was now hitting him full-force, which did nothing good to his already moody personality.
Today being Monday wasn’t helping either.
Wishing for the next teacher to come in fast and put the students to sleep with that soporific ability proper to teachers and politicians, Nicolas gave up on the ostrich strategy and instead tried to merge the ambient noise into his own thought pattern to cancel its negative effects.
“…and Baldwin fought the dragon all alone!!”
Yeah, right… And I am the princess of- Oh wait…
“…then Gertud died in the [Marshy Plains] and…”
Mmmmh… annoying place that is. I lost five boots to those quick sand… quick mud? Peat?
“… can’t figure out how to defeat the [Golems] in the [Grava Lair]…”
Noobs… Not that I can talk. Down a hundred levels. Spells erased. Skills reset…. A girl… Talk about screwing up… I’m not complaining, I had it coming… But what about that bullshit L’Eddy D. was spouting on TV about “Sex change has been deemed psychologically hazardous so we choose to deactivate the feature to ensure the players’ safety, mental health, yadi yada…” And what about MY mental health?! Did the game just decide I could take it? How is that even possible? I’m not unhappy about it or anything, but I think I might strangle whoever or whatever might be behind this, just by principle…
Not everyone was talking only about Untold Tales though.
“…bought Faust’s new album…”
Good guy. I may remember your name one day.
“…too, and PsyRen’s latest single.”
Hoy-hoy… Did I really miss that? I’ll have to stop by Henry’s Tommy’s on my way back.
“Hey! Nico!”
That’s my name I think…yes.
“…You talked to Prince? From DragonHeart Flower?”
“Yes! And Lily-sama too!”
“Whiiiii!!!”
Tsh. Squealers… I wonder why people like to add those Japanese honorifics… Well, I do it too… But what is that permed idiot Prince Petunia doing these days?
“…yes, and they said they would start an expedition in the Wild!”
Interesting… Daffodil might be an idiot, but I’ll admit he’s no pushover… and as long as the other elf woman is there… Well, I guess they can pull it off… Where in the Wild?
“They will be the first to enter the [Tiamat Mountain Range]!!”
… Sorry dude… You fail…
“Nico!”
I heard you the first time.
“… I heard Morgan’s party were searching for a map of the [Zenith Cave].”
“The Teleportation Dungeon?!”
“Yes. They should be ready in…”
Ah… that place… nice for a picnic… plus all those random Runic teleports are excellent to discover new-
“NICO!!”
*tchack*
“Ow! Daniel, I heard you, you know? No need to karate-chop me… You break wood with that thing, dammit! My head hurts enough already…”
“That’s your fault for not giving any sign of life for the past month.”
Rubbing his mistreated scalp, the thoughtless young man raised a reproachful glare towards his standing friend.
As tall has Nicolas, close to one-eighty, Daniel had a milk chocolate skin, short curly black hair and brown eyes so dark it almost looked like he only had one huge pupil in each and no iris. Appropriately muscular for a martial artist, he had a face girls would probably consider “average handsome”, good-looking but no idol material either, maybe a bit rough.
But what do I know of girls’ preferences anyway?
Sugar, spices, and everything nice… Accidentally had to that a humble and open personality and you had the perfect recipe for a popular guy!
People often thought they were a weird pair, but most agreed that the friendly sportsman and the funny know-it-all at the very least made an interesting duo.
“What kind of Moroccan names his son ‘Daniel’ anyway?”
“Where did that come from?”
Nicolas just shrugged and turned back towards the blackboard. Sighing, Daniel sat down beside him and open the bottle of water he had just bought.
After drinking a long mouthful without catching his breath, he asked:
“So? What is it this time?”
He was obviously referring to the way Nicolas had been avoiding him the past month. More “ignored” than “avoid” in fact.
Arriving at the last minute, finishing his tests as fast as he could and going straight home to explore more of Erwyn, that’s what it was.
“I lost my phone.”
That was true too.
“…Again?”
“Yes.”
“What about emails?”
“You know I don’t like those.”
“That’s not really an excuse.”
“I was busy. The exams, stuff… The usual you know...”
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Right. I’m sure the exams took a lot of your time, Mr University Drop-Out. Especially during the break…”
Daniel gave his careless friend a fatalistic look, and sighed again.
“I know you tend to block out everything else whenever you find a new toy, but could you at least notify us once in a while that you’re still alive and not bleeding out in your kitchen after a fierce battle with your monstrous cat? Yasmin was worried.”
Nicolas shrugged again.
“I’ve been sending you items through the bag, haven’t I? And I can hold my own against McLeon… probably.”
“That’s not the same thing. Come on. Even if whispering doesn’t work outside of safe zones and you always wander off to dangerous places, you must at least stumble across a village once in a while, no?”
“I might have... And if she was that worried why not come by? It’s not like you live far. I never took back that key either.”
“You’re a lost cause, you know that?”
“I do.”
“And the worst is that you’re proud of it…”
“Not necessarily.”
“Oh. Does that mean we’ll hear of you more often in-game?”
“No.”
“You-”
“Ah! But it’s not what you think.” He raised a hand to cut short any protest. “I’m… stuck in a dungeon right now and I’m not sure how much time I’ll need to get out.”
Actually, he wasn’t sure the [Obsidian Tower] wasn’t considered a safe zone of sorts, but if he tried to whisper Daniel and that the name “Victoria” showed up on the chat window, he was afraid he would never hear the end of it.
“Oh-oh…” A wide grin revealed Daniel’s white teeth. “Is the great Mr E asking for help? Want my guild to give you a hand?”
“No, I’m not… Who’d want the help of a bunch of battle freak…”
“You dated one of those ‘battle freaks’ may I recall you.”
“How’s your sister by the way?”
“Which one?” he asked teasingly.
“Mira of course.” Nicolas followed up.
“Haha. She’s fine. You’re invited to her birthday next week too.”
“How old is she again?”
“Eleven this year.”
“…”
“You won’t remember it, will you?”
“Probably not.” Another shrug.
*sigh* “I’ll come and pick you up.”
“You do that.”
I’ll need to find Chibi Battle Freak a gift… A punching bag with Daniel’s face on it? Although mine would probably be more motivating for that little demon.
“Is that all you want to know?”
“Is there anything else?” Nicolas replied with a smile.
“Hahaha… ‘Probably not’… But, just on a side note, the ‘battle freak’ is fine too. Be careful next time you see her though. You know how she doesn’t take well being ignored.”
“See her… in-game?”
“Anywhere.”
This last word was spoken in a foreboding tone.
Nicolas gulped at the thought of an angry Yasmin, and promised himself to pre-emptively book a room at the local hospital.
Bringing back the conversation to the initial subject, he then nonchalantly added:
“I don’t need help, but… If I were you… As Guild Master of Horizon, number one guild on the Frontline… I would probably not let that pesky Prince Cauliflower get first to the [Tiamat Mountain Range].”
“So you’re stuck over there?”
“…”
“Haha. Okay, okay. I won’t pry. East right? I’ll see with the guys. But it might take a while. Anything we should be prepared for?”
“…undead. Lots of it.”
“…lots?”
“Lots.”
“Eeeeh… Well… It’s true we can’t let Orchid step all over our turf, after all.”
“Ah, right. That was Orchid…”
“What happened between you two exactly?”
“Nothing much. Just that one time I went to a dungeon in the Tame Zone and found a shortcut to the boss room. He might have felt offended when he saw me coming out alone with the [Sorceress’ Necklace] in front of the two hundred players he had gathered for the raid… He still hates me. I don’t know why. I even gave him the necklace…”
“Typical…”
“Yeah. I know right? This guy-”
“No, I mean typical you.”
“What was that about?”
“A ‘shortcut’ to the boss room? You say that like it was easy. Try to understand the hardships of normal people sometimes.”
“Because you consider yourself ‘normal’, Daniel-san the Sky Beast?”
“Compared to you? I do.”
“…”
“…”
“Well, anyone who tried a little would have figured that you just needed to whistle a lullaby to the duck-shaped rock near the sacred pond two kilometres away from the entrance of the dungeon, on a full moon, wearing a turban, after cleansing the stone with the holy water from the source…”
“WHO’D HAVE FIGURED THAT OUT?!”
Nicolas shrugged again, faintly smirking.
His shoulders were starting to get sore from all that shrugging.
“You’re unbelievable…”
“Do I need to remind you thanks to whose information your guild managed to climb to its current position?”
“You make it sound like it’s all thanks to you…”
“Isn’t it the case?”
“…not entirely…” Daniel mumbled.
The teasing young man felt mercy – That’s the second time today. Am I sick? – towards his Guild Master friend and didn’t pursue further, letting his head fall on his arms crossed over his desk. Honestly, all he really had done was to give Horizon a little favouritism. If the guild hadn’t been strong enough to act on his insight, the provided help wouldn’t have change much.
In exchange for the information, “Daniel-san” had been serving as an intermediary between Elric and his “clients”, all thanks to a very rare pair of interconnected magic bags. This item enabled the Wandering Knight to send back his findings to the headquarters of Horizon without a need for himself to leave the Wild. Thus gaining time and avoiding crowds.
There were only two downsides to the [Nether Bags].
First, the package had to actually fit inside for the magic to work. Still, the inconspicuous piece of cloth was large enough to contain a grown man, so it wasn’t much of a problem.
The second issue was that it didn’t work with organic materials like food or body parts. Although it worked without problem for things like leather or feather cloaks. Nicolas had no idea how the distinction was made.
Something to do with radiocarbon dating maybe?
He wasn’t that knowledgeable in molecular magic… if that was even a thing.
In the middle of his reflexion about a possibly undiscovered form of magic, a thought suddenly crossed his mind, and Nicolas jerked up and stared at his friend, who gave him back a raised eyebrow.
“Daniel, have you ever seen around a girl with glasses and bl-”
“Everyone, quiet! Go back to your seat Johnson. I’ll start the lesson.”
Unbeknownst to him, the teacher had already arrived and connected her laptop to the projector. Sighing in anticipation of a boring hour, but thankful for the progressively settling silence, Nicolas let his head fall down again
“Did you say something about a girl?” Daniel’s murmured question reached his ear.
Taking a glance at the middle-aged woman who was still in the process of re-establishing order in the classroom, Nicolas sat back up and turned once more towards his seat neighbour to answer in the same whispered voice:
“Yes, a creepy nerd that was at Tommy’s. I guess she must live nearby if she goes there, so I was wondering if you knew something a-bout…her…”
Surprised by the abrupt change of tone, and his strange friend’s widened eyes fixed over his shoulder, Daniel looked behind him, but the only thing in that direction was the windowed door of the room. Pivoting back, he was about to ask what this was about, but was startled by Nicolas suddenly pulling out a piece of paper and hurriedly writing something down.
“What ar-”
“Mrs Givre! I’m sorry, but I have to go.” Interrupting him, the unpredictable young man suddenly shot up, grabbing his backpack, and walked up to the teacher.
“Siegel,” she said disapprovingly and took the note he’d just written. “I don’t think it is…”
Her voice died out as she read the content of the sort message, her eyes widening. She then gave a suspicious look to the innocently smiling student in front of her. After a few seconds, her facial muscles relaxed and she waved him to the door.
“Alright, Siegel. You may go. But I want the exercises from page sixteen to eighteen for tomorrow in my office.”
Opening his backpack, Nicolas pulled out a few sheets and gave them to the teacher.
“Will that be enough?”
He had already glossed over Givre’s whole textbook on a whim during the second month of lessons. He actually found electrical circuits to be quite a fun subject, even if she herself was less captivating than a catatonic sloth.
Without waiting for an answer from the stunned teacher, Nicolas then rushed out of the classroom under the curious stares of the other students, and Daniel’s anxious puzzled look.
– *** –
Stepping out in an empty corridor with orange and purple walls, Nicolas marked a pause and looked around while sniffing the air, slightly hunched like a hound tracking a shrew…
Not that the action had any purpose…
He knew his target had been walking in the direction of the main hall. He saw her after all.
He just felt like it…
Don’t judge.
Decisively turning his head left, and then the rest of his body, he started walking fast towards the aforementioned hall, giving a quick peek inside each room he passed by, but not wasting too much time on it. Several months of wandering the premises of this insult to architecture had drawn inside his mind a very precise map of the warped building and, with the little he could guess about his prey’s behavioural pattern, he had already a good idea about where she had been heading to.
Passing next to the main entrance, he spotted the janitor, still repairing the same radiator. The man briefly gave him a puzzled look, then smiled and designated the staircase, confirming Nicolas’ hypothesis.
Climbing the steps two by two as per his habit, Nicolas quickly reached the third and last floor – well, the west wing actually had four floor and the south one five, but let’s leave that aside for now – where the library was situated.
After walking down an absurdly narrow passageway, he finally reached the place.
Grinning, he tiptoed inside like a stealthy hunter… or a very evil ballerina… and carefully checked all of the alcoves housing five computers each, sure his quarry was close.
However…
Where the hell is she?
He had thoroughly searched around, but the elusive being was nowhere to be caught.
Were my deductions off?
Taking his favourite thinking pose, he crossed his left arm over his belly and held his right elbow in his left hand, while the fingers of the right were gently stroking his short three-day beard.
After a good minute of profoundly staring at a dirty spot on the fuchsia wall, he reached a deep conclusion:
“I need to shave.”
With this world-shaking truth enounced, Nicolas made his way to the last door he had left unchecked, one opening to a place he never thought to enter one day, a place of mystery and dust, an anachronistic temple of knowledge…
Taking a deep inspiration, he pushed the door, half-closing his eyes, almost expecting a blinding heavenly light to surge out. Witnessing no such phenomenon, he stepped inside the mythical chamber.
And before him stood shelves.
Many shelves.
And books.
Actual reference books.
Made out of paper.
Such a wondrous thing…
This part of the library, albeit not that large, was pretty much the only portion of the building having escaped the renovation madness and to still hold the charm of age, with wood everywhere and not a single flashy-coloured wall in sight.
Why would a hospital need such a place was anyone’s guess though.
Looking around, Nicolas was almost surprised not to see an old wizardly white-bearded elder hunched over a huge tome and holding an ink-covered quill.
Don’t get him wrong, he was very fond of books. The feel of paper under his fingers and the actual visible progression as he turned each page could never be replaced in his heart by the cold efficiency of PDFs and other EPUBs. Every little tear, every little stain, every little fold in a volume told a unique story, a story that designated the book as his own and that awaked in him a weird feeling of attachment towards what was after all nothing more than a bundle of paper printed with black ink.
However, that was true for story books, comics, novels, manga… you name them. Textbooks to the very limit, but mainly for the sake of annotations.
In this day and age, where everything, or just about, was available on the internet with trustful accuracy as long as one was not dumb enough to forget to do a little cross-referencing, who were the heroes still risking devastating asthma in tackling the dusty compiled knowledge of the past in his material form?
The brave warrior willing to face tomes of hundreds of page, armed with nothing more than a measly table of content and refusing the comfort of the computerized search engine?
The mighty knight courageous enough to face swarms of paper dragons with his tiny sword while a boosted flamethrower raygun was laying at his feet?
If such a being still wandered this Earth, this one truly deserved to be revered by the lazy mankind.
Momentarily dazed by his own delusions, Nicolas was brought back to reality by the faint characteristic rubbing of paper against paper.
Snapping back into balleri- … hunter mode, he stealthily skipped in direction of the noise and, hiding behind a shelf, peeped between two books, “Relativity: The Special and the General Theory” by Albert Einstein and “On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favoured Races in the Struggle for Life” by Charles Darwin.
Who’s in charge of tidying up this place? I have a few reclamations concerning the sorting system around here… And that title is way too long! What the fuck, Darwin?! And why keep a book on zoology in a polytech institute?
Quickly, he dismissed those pointless considerations and stared at the profile of the female existence sitting at the table two metres away from him.
Here I was wondering how to find her, and there she is!
It was indeed the same nerdy girl that had given him the empty-eyes-silent-creepy-smile-and-running-away-for-no-apparent-reason treatment a few days earlier at Tommy’s Record Store.
Black shoulder-length hair with long bangs, there was no mistaking that haircut, nor those fast and precise gestures as she turned the pages, and that slim frame.
However, one notable difference was that her thick rectangular glasses were off, revealing pure hazel eyes – well, only one, given he was looking at her from the side – that were rapidly moving left and right as she read through the voluminous tome she was holding.
Doesn’t she need those for reading? Is it myopia?
She was once more absently smiling, like lost in her own universe, but for some reason, Nicolas couldn’t find her creepy. Maybe because this time she wasn’t staring directly at him, like she was hesitating between kissing and beheading him? Or was it the absence of her opaque pair of double glazing shields that gave her a more open face? Or simply the fact her timid and scared demeanour was all but gone, replaced by an air of quiet peacefulness.
Or maybe I’m developing a fetish for cutely creepy girls, who knows? I need to seriously re-evaluate my preferences.
“If you know your enemies and know yourself, you will not be imperilled in a hundred battles... If you do not know your enemies nor yourself, you will be imperilled in every single battle.”
Sun Tzu?
Well… What do I do know? … I’m asking myself that question a lot, aren’t I? I should try to plan a bit more in advance. Look at me. Now I’ve done it and stalked a girl to a place where we’re alone together… What am I turning into?
Answer A: a rapist.
Answer B: a desperate loner.
Answer C: a girl.
Answer D: a pancake.
Seeing I already covered answer C, and that I’d like to avoid A and B… I’ll go for C. Now, how do I turn into a pancake? Mmmh… That’s not helping.
First of all, what is she doing here? Is she a student? How come I never noticed her before? … Well, that’s easy… I probably never paid attention… and if she spends all her time in the library… What class is she in? Well, no use thinking too much about it.
His mind made, he stepped out of his improvised peeping spot, and walked up to the girl who, once again, didn’t seem to react to his presence as he indiscreetly approached her from behind.
Once he was close enough, he extended his arm and poked her shoulder.
“Hello? We meet again. So, in the end, did you remember to go back to the shop and pay for that CD?”
Not the best way to strike up a conversation, true enough. But his second choice “I’ve been observing you from behind that shelf for a while now, and I was wondering who the hell you were” hadn’t seemed any more suitable.
Startled by the sudden poking, the girl jerked her head up and stared at him with growing horror, her whole body beginning to shake.
“Ah, sorry for scaring you. My name’s Nic-”
He never finished his late introduction, as a book suddenly came flying at his head, and he just had the time to read the title before the back of the scientific compendium collided with his face.
“Investigations on the Theory of the Brownian Movement”, by Albert Enstein… Why do I feel some irony? ... Is this supposed to be the proverbial might of the pen over the sword? It sure hurts.
And he blacked out.
– *** –
I accuse… Nerd Girl… in the Library… with the Big Ass Book…
As his mind slowly made its way back to the world of light, colours and annoying speeches, Nicolas caught the sound of a door being slammed somewhere. Given nobody usually came to this part of the school, supposing some students were even aware of the existence of this room, it was a safe guess to say it was the Violent Nerd – rank up? – leaving the crime scene, meaning he hadn’t been out for that long.
He brought his right hand to his painful nose and wasn’t too surprised see it coming back covered in blood. Sighing, he felt his pockets with his other hand in search for some tissues.
“Hobe id isn’d brogen.”
A couple minutes later, with his two flowing nasal ducts gloriously plugged by protruding coiled pieces of the aforementioned tissues, Nicolas began his journey to the closest toilet, in an epic quest with a mirror and a working sink as his objectives.
In passing, he noted that the crime weapon was nowhere to be found.
Well, it’s good to know she’s a meticulous psycho. Or is putting the book back on its shelf more important than my well-being? Why don’t I feel more offended by that?
“Hm-hm-hmhmhm…” As he left the library, a faint uncontrollable laughter was creeping its way to his vocal cords.
Slowly walking in a dark green corridor, Nicolas raised his bloodied fingers to his mouth, and licked some of the rapidly drying red fluid away, savouring the warm irony taste.
A wide grin bloomed on his gory face, and sparkles danced in his eyes.
“Inderesding…”
– ***** –
<1> And not affiliated in any way to the “Pakistan International School, Riyadh” or the “Pôle Intersectoriel de Soin et de Réhabilitation (pour les pathologies à longue évolution)”.
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Well, here’s chapter 20. Hope you like it.
Nothing much to say, really. As usual, I remind you that comments, suggestions and criticisms are welcomed. As are ratings as well.
So thanks for reading, and see you next chapter.
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