Day 5
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White, blinding, infinite.
Opening my worn, upset eyes, I'm greeted with a monotone square ceiling light above me, shining a blindingly pale light—hurting. This is unfamiliar to me; in fact, everything around me is.
The sound of birds chirping happily and wind striking the trees and stealing their leaves fills the space—it is almost good enough for me to believe that it isn't fake.
The magic is sadly broken when my ears catch the source of the sound, coming from two spots in the room—from inside the wall.
A tall, extending window resides on the left, light unmindfully shining from it, no different than the one from the ceiling; artificial, lifeless—depressing. It is unjust to call it a window when it doesn't do its only job; there is no outside view.
Reaching for any memories feels like walking on thick mist, every attempt leaving me with the feeling there isn't a solid ground to walk on, no definitive path to reach them; afraid to miss a step and fall to oblivion, I seize the attempt. In the end, all that is left is a blank space from where should be the memories belonging to yesterday's night.
Unable to do anything else, I sigh; being this chained down, stolen from any demanding action tires me out.
In an attempt to sit down, a sharp pain, almost unnoticeable, grows from my right arm; looking at it, I spot an IV line connected to my arm, which limits my motion to a certain, short range. I tilt my head, curious to know where I am—a hospital, maybe? I don't remember checking in.
More careful now; I'm successful in sitting up on the bed.
The sheets feel cold, and the mattress is slender and uncomfortable, stealing me of any possible comfort.
One singular strand of hair falls by the motion and blocks my vision, or so I think, seeing it isn't my hair; the lack of the curls tells me that.
Grasping it between my fingers carefully, attentively to the feeling, I lift it up and notice what it truly is: a white fabric, spongy in texture. Following it up with my fingers to where it originates, I find it wrapped securely around my head.
This time, using any brain cell is unnecessary to deduce what the thing is; I'm far too used to its texture. The only question is why my head is wrapped in gauze.
Unable to hold the curiosity at bay, I end up touching what it hides; a warning is sent the moment my fingertip grazes at the covered area, pain urging me to leave that particular area alone.
Because of the intense, not subtle feeling, I quickly obey, retreating my hand to my chest.
Dried blood glues to my fingers, gifting me with a good hint—the image of a rock comes to me, a single frame before it hits its target.
A nauseating headache thrashes me hard, memories starting to shake up, but something inside of me holds them captive, like a dam, keeping the stream uniform so I won't drown.
The groan that parts my lips is uncontrolled in volume, stripping me of my courage to dare peek through the crack again so soon.
Seconds ago, when I first opened my eyes, I thought I was alone; the lights didn't make it easy to see the surroundings very well, but now that I had time to get used to it, a detail reflects on the edge of my vision.
The room I thought would only host me actually has two more people, both of whom are nearly unnoticeable.
Colette is the first one I notice since she stands up, back resting against the far-end wall; her eyes watch me sharply, coldly, reacting to every move of mine. For some reason, her gaze makes me shiver; is she angry at me? It is slightly hard to notice through her tense movement, but I catch her hand re-hooking a phone to the wall.
The other one, unlike her, stays unmoving—deep asleep.
Half of their body touching a chair, and the other half, their head and chest more specifically, laying on the empty space of the bed where my feet don't reach. Their easily recognizable shaggy short hair freed from the ponytail they use most of the time; the silence in the room helps me notice a purr leaving Yui with each breath.
Breathe in, breathe out; doing that, I gather enough courage to look back at the rain of knives to ask a question, seeing that if I don't, I might not go anywhere for the next hour.
"Uhm, can I ask where I am? I don't recognize these walls; is this one of the hospitals from outside the city?"
No response leaves the woman as she turns her face away from mine, unbothered to assimilate the words further; she starts focusing solely on something lying beside me, and when I turn to see what it is, I notice the room's door.
Timely, it slides open to reveal a figure entering the room, their low heels clicking against the floor, the sound filling most of the empty space.
Familiar long blond hair dances like it has a life of its own as the figure moves inside confidently and closes the door behind her, impeding me from getting a look at the corridor outside.
Blue eyes seize everyone in the room, starting with the woman next to the wall phone, the same person she nods her head to in a thankful gesture before roaming closer to me.
Julia's eyes fall on me, bearing softness in them; for some reason, the pity I catch on the reflex of her iris taxes my mind even more than my injury.
This exact scene has happened once before: me lying in a hospital bed, stared at with pity and worry, followed by attempts to lift my spirit up; I guess this is just normal for people to do. Even so, I can't help but feel exhausted as the memory strikes me.
I think she catches that, or at least that is what I read from how she stops when catching my expression.
It doesn't last that long, fleeting in seconds as I'm sure she is here to interrogate me; she has the same look on her face I was taught to wear when in these types of situations. Good cop and silent cop, Colette and her.
Circling the bed, she stops on my left side to leave Yui to their rest on my right and slowly rests her hand on a lone chair.
"Hello, Olivia." Straightening her black skirt, the woman adapts a formal tone and sits down composedly. "I'm happy to see you awaken so soon; your recovery seems to be going well. How's your head? Do you feel any residual pain, or maybe some headache?"
"No, I'm fine." I lie, simply, because saying anything else would mean delaying this conversation. "Can I know where I am and why?"
"Currently you're in a private hospital owned by the agency I'm contracted by; the location specifically I can't tell you at the moment; to ease your mind, I'll just say that you're not too far from home, so don't worry." She smiles—if genuinely or not, I can't tell. "Now, for the reason why, I think it would be best if you answered that yourself. What do you remember about the events of yesterday's night?"
To her question, I look at my hands, evaluating if I should really answer that sincerely, but what reason do I have not to?
This seems like one of those situations where lying or telling the truth is irrelevant; after all, she sure knows already.
All that she needs is to know how much I do.
"I remember checking the apartment complex with a friend to help them with a problem; there I found a letter belonging to the killer, telling me that I should go home before nightfall or else..." My eyes feel like being pulled down, the skin stretchy and stingy. "He said there would be consequences, so I did as ordered, but not without sending it to Agent Yui so I could have some backup in case things turned out bad for me."
Julia raises her hand, stopping me from continuing momentarily. "And would you remember what you sent them? Beside the letter, I mean."
I nod my head. "Yes, I didn't know at the time if the letter alone would be enough motivation, so I decided to play my cards. I sent them a text saying, 'I know the truth'; that was my only hope to get them to do something in time with my arrival home."
"Good, that's good; do you remember why you thought those words would trigger that to happen?"
"Because they are true, and from what I learned, you guys seemed very keen to keep me from finding it out." It isn't easy to admit, but that makes sense; too, it is the only truth I can find. The strange things I saw this week—this way I can find logic in them; they were here to keep me from finding out. "I know your agents are the shadows I saw on the mill; I know that they can do some things that are beyond human, and I know that what you said about your agency wanting to help Havenport is just a lie to cover up your true intentions."
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The woman seems hurt by my words, quickly trying to respond to them. "Olivia, I do understand why you would arrive at that conclusion, but I need you to understand that there are good reasons why such decisions needed to be made; there are more at stake than you—"
Before she can continue, something takes over me; even if I would prefer to stay quiet, something bubbles inside of me, making me bark my words over hers, drowning her voice with mine.
"No, save it; we are far past that point. I would like to thank you because if it wasn't for your phone call Friday, in the parking lot of the Two Horned Betsy, I would have never gotten the final piece I needed to tell myself I wasn't going crazy." That drags a reaction out of her as her composed form crumbles before my eyes; out of instinct, I scoff a short laugh. "Ha, I'm sure you didn't expect anyone to be nearby back then, right? You talked about the mayor, about how easy it was to get what you wanted from him, and about how you intercepted one of our important pieces of evidence from reaching the lab—the blood Astero collected. Well, it actually was werewolf blood, right?"
I bring my knees close to my chest, feeling the pain being washed away by my anger; it comforts me a bit.
"Do you know how it feels to look at a friend's face and..." My hands tremble as the reverberate of the shoots still courses through me, the taste of iron on my tongue, and the blood still present on my face, even if it has been wiped clean. "I had to kill an innocent man, and, worse yet, I can't even tell if the monster took my sister in my place; so, for all I've done until this point, I only ask you to be straight with me."
The air hangs heavy inside the room—so much so that one could taste it if they tried.
Colette, who has been in silence until now, moves away, reaching for the door and disappearing behind it; as per Julia, she finally seems to get serious, her lips becoming a thin line.
"If that is what you want, then I'll grant you that; you did more than enough to deserve so." Taking in a deep breath, the woman locks her gaze on mine. "There are many things I can't tell you now; my work requires that, but I'll answer three questions I believe you might find useful. What is the agency? What is the real identity of the agents under my care? And what comes next?"
True to her words, she starts answering.
"The agency is an organization, not bounded by politics, born from the purpose of keeping the humans from learning about the supernatural as a whole, since if the existence of, 'monsters', as they see it, would surely cause chaos on the world. Too, we are responsible for dealing with any supernatural who causes any problems or threatens to expose the truth."
"The agents you worked with are all supernatural beings, as you probably know at this point. Colette is a werewolf, Dalia's a witch, and Yui's a vampire. Before you ask, I'm human, and the one pointed as their handler, a title given to those in command and who have a spot at the fun table, where all of the big decisions are discussed and voted. If you want to know more about any of the agents, I suggest you ask them yourself."
"Lastly, because you know about the truth now, normally I would be asked to present you with two choices. You would be able to either have your memory about us wiped so you can go back to your normal life, forgetting the supernatural exists, or join us, becoming an agent yourself. Unfortunately, with the situation as it is, I am unable to; my superiors value your position at the police station and want you to keep going until this case is over, then you can make your choice."
As the words finish leaving her mouth, a phone in her pocket rings once, forcing her to bring it out and check the notification. A sigh leaves her mouth before she turns to me with an apologetic shake of her head.
"My time is up; I have to go back to my paperwork and attend a meeting in half an hour."
She then gets up to her feet, adjusting her clothes to look presentable, yet her eyes stay on mine; like when she entered the room, she returns to that same gentle expression, only this time I can tell it is not fake. "Olivia, I understand you need some time to process it all, and that's completely fine. Just, due to your injuries, you won't be going anywhere, at least for today, so why don't you explore a little? You can talk with my puppies, ask them questions, or you can just rest here; it's your choice. When you feel better, come talk to me in my office."
Then, just like that, she's gone out of the door; questions are left planted in my head, all blooming over each other at the same time and competing over center stage so hard that it hurts my brain.
I don't know how to feel now.
It would be so easy to throw all the blame at her, at the agency she works for, but that wouldn't be right; there isn't a world where I'm able to convince myself that the blame is one hundred percent from anyone else but me.
Would I do the same in her place? I don't know...maybe.
I need time to think and to rest, but I'm too plagued to try going back to sleep, and I'm not in the mood to stare motionless at the ceiling while dissecting my own mind just to go insane in the end.
Being alone with my thoughts is always unpleasant; my head never seems to stop swirling, wasting all my energy only to get nowhere.
To my luck, I'm not alone.
Something I almost forgot, or rather, someone is still in the room with me.
I see Yui's eyes open, the deep slumber they were before gone in a heartbeat; they were never asleep, were they?
Their focus lies on me, studying the expression I involuntarily make while thinking, and then, when I remember about them and catch their gaze, Yui moves their eyes away nervously.
Strange how their face looks so contorted by something—brows slightly slanted down and lips devoid of any form but a simple line—on them, the expression is uncomfortable to watch. If I didn't know best, I would say they are as plagued as I am with something.
Blowing the bad stuff out of my system, I shake all thoughts away and conjure a smile on my broken lips—a cut I hadn't noticed before in them opening up and causing mild discomfort, yet I hold it.
"You don't need to do that for me, you know? Not when..." They beat me to it, their low-toned voice flowing before I can say anything; turning to me, they look in my general direction, not meeting my eyes anymore, but rather focusing on the space beside my head. "I'm sorry, detective; I guess I'm not as good at my job as I would like to imagine."
A laugh parts their lips as they attempt to smile, dry and weak. "I guess that means no gold medal for me, ha..."
"Yui, are you..."
I stop myself before asking; even if I don't know them very well, I can see that the moment I ask, they'll just laugh it off or say it isn't anything.
So, I sit up properly to assume a more comfortable position, crossing my legs and resting my hands on them; doing so, I willingly open some more space for them to sit where they were laying their head.
"Come on, sit with me; I want to know what's on your head, and in the process, maybe you can help me avoid going insane. So, how about it? Let's talk a bit."
Their eyes lighten up, more literally than I expected, going from monotone, downcast dark brown to shining low orangish.
Nodding their head exaggeratedly, they rise up from the chair, push it away with their feet, and sit down on the empty space; this time, they don't shy away from looking me in the eyes, curiosity overshadowing any resistance they had before.
"Okay, this is definitively not weird at all; sorry, but I gotta ask...Weren't you supposed to be mad at me? Well, mad at everyone, I guess. We just screwed you over big time." They ask, their tone not low anymore, assuming in its place the pitch I recognize them for. "I mean, we hid the truth from you, messed up evidence—not because I wanted to, I like to add—and that kind of resulted in you getting hurt and all. No one would blame you if you lashed out at us; at least I wouldn't."
Intertwining my fingers together, I nod my head, finding a lot of sense in what they are saying—if only it was that easy. "Yeah, I could; but what good would that do to me anyway? In the end, if it weren't for you guys, I probably would have been taken away and killed, so I am in no position to get mad beyond a few scolds here and there."
"But if I had seen your message when you sent it to me, we would have gotten there in time and kicked those fuckers asses before they had done anything. If anything, this shitshow just happened because—"
I, with a relaxed move of my hand, disarm them from saying anymore; gently, my fingers fall onto their shoulders, surprising them momentarily. "Yui, look, I might be just a normal human girl, dumb to this new world opening up in front of me, but I'm no kid; I can recognize my own screwups. One that I can easily remember out of the bat is that I fell right in that trap out of my own choice; I could have been more patient, and then maybe things would have been different."
Each word that escapes me is eaten up by Yui as they look deeply into my eyes, deeply focused; that motivates me to continue. "We could spend the whole day doing just this, reminiscing about what could have been different and accusing ourselves of blame, but I want to know more about these new things so I can catch the killer once and for all. For that, I need you; so, I'll ask, can you get me off this stupid IV line and teach me?"
In just a frame, Yui prompts themselves closer to me, their hands pushing on my crossed legs to find some balance, which isn't so easy due to how hard they nod their head, but they make it work.
"I'm not good at teaching stuff; Dalia is the one who likes to do that, but I can show you around until you can talk to her. Let me just free you from this stupid thing." Like ripping a bandage, they get the needle out of my arm so fast that I don't feel anything, and then they look back at me, eyes burning true orange, mirroring a furnace. "I promise you, we will get this fucker and make sure he can't eat without a straw for the rest of his pathetic life."
Grinning, a laugh escapes their throat; truly looking like a devil. Because of their movements, their hand, which still hasn't left my legs, moves a little further up, enough for them to finally notice.
"You know I can't walk if you keep pressing me down, right?" I ask, pointing out the fact with an acted frown on my brows; unfortunately, I'm unable to have a laugh as they instantly note that I'm not really mad, changing their grin to a flirtatious smug as a response.
"Well, JB said you had to stay here for the rest of the day, and I don't see why we can't waste an hour or two together; and if you don't want to be pressed down, I'm fine with that—I know I said it before, but I'm a very open-minded person."
This time, a little more used to this side of them, I manage to control myself and let out a simple laugh instead of turning as red as a tomato.
"One thing at a time, what about that? Wasn't you who said something about winning points? You can start by helping me get up."
Now, this is the same Yui I saw on the harbor; they smile widely, acting as if they won the lottery before doing what I asked and jumping off the bed, helping me soon after to get up.
I start putting some weight on my feet to test out if I'm able to walk, and while doing that, I notice I'm wearing one of those hospital gowns, the type that is open in the back.
"Oh, I almost forgot; here's your washed and cleaned coat." It impresses me how quick they move, disappearing to the other side of the room, grabbing the coat from one of the chairs, and appearing in front of me. I'll definitely need some time to get used to that. "It sure would be very bad if someone filed a complaint about you walking naked around the agency's corridors, even if that's a nice idea for the next time I play truth or dare in a hospital."
"And that happens a lot in your life?" Laughing at their words, I put on the coat, feeling the breeze on my back disappear.
"I don't know, is two times considered a lot? Because if it is, then you can say I'm guilty as charged."
The smile on their face is so proud that I decide to not shine any of my thoughts about it, and with them back to normal and I a little less plagued, we leave the room.
For now, I split from the nightmares and pains impregnated on the sheets for later, when I have more of a stable head to deal with them—all I can hope for.
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