CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - ODION
Unmasked Malevolence
Odion decided to use the week-long post-exam evaluation period as an opportunity to search the house for any clues on what Apollo was hiding. He hadn’t been home since Wednesday, and according to the two police officers he overheard Marcella speaking to outside that evening, he’d been admitted to the hospital in critical condition. For what? Odion wasn’t sure, nor did he care if he was honest.
After scouring the basement and living room, he forced himself to do a thorough cleaning of their bedroom. So far, he’d been without luck, which was a bit unsettling. Odion scrambled inside Apollo’s work desk, hoping he would find hints that would point him in the right direction.
The number of dents and cracks that appeared on top of Apollo’s desk looked like he’d taken a hammer and repeatedly banged it to vent his rage. So many times Odion would wake up in the middle of the night and listen to Apollo have conversations in his sleep, although more often than not, they were mumblings and maniacal laughter. Still, nobody had conversations with themselves or laughed maniacally in their sleep unless they went to bed with thoughts of something terribly evil.
Inside the desk, there’d been nothing but scattered pieces of paper, outdated issues of Black Shadow and Bionic Man, books on the power of the mind Apollo still hadn’t returned to the library, and an old pair of broken headphones that needed to be thrown away. The infuriating thing about this search was his journal was nowhere to be found, and that’s where all the real answers were. Apollo’s journal was the gateway to his mind because he wrote down everything in that stupid journal.
And what do we have here? Odion took out a folded sheet of paper with Apollo’s scribbling on it:
APOLLO’S KILL LIST
Tyron
Donovan
Marcella
Odion *
“I knew it was all bullshit when he said he couldn’t bring himself to kill me,” Odion muttered, shaking his head. He read the names on the list over and over again despite it only having four on there. “I hope he never comes outta the hospital.” He crushed the paper in his hand and tossed it onto his bed, continuing to search inside the desk for more clues.
After finding nothing else of interest, Odion halted his search and closed the drawer, shifting his attention toward Apollo’s bedside table. He tilted his head to the side and pondered on the possibility. The only thing of importance Apollo ever kept there was his wallet; however, Odion wasn’t going to be stupid enough to rule anything out.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
First, he opened the bottom drawer. Nothing. Then, he moved to the top drawer and found an empty wallet, a few dead batteries, and a neatly folded piece of paper that was hidden underneath more useless junk that needed to be thrown away. Now, what sort of death note could this be?
Odion took the paper out, unfolded it, and motioned his eyes across the lines, lips moving silently as he read:
There have been slight improvements in my capabilities, but a lot of work still needs to be done. Once I’m able to control this power, everyone who has wronged me in life will pay the consequences. No evil deed will be left unpunished, the vermin will cease to exist. I will exterminate all parasites from this world the same way I exterminated those creatures back in Toronno. The thrill I got when their cries of terror echoed across the alley cannot be explained in words, however, even though I’ve never engaged in any sexual activity, I can assure you the experience was just as pleasurable if not more.
At the time the event occurred, I wasn’t fully aware of what I had done, but now that I’m writing about it, I find myself reveling in my glory. The amount of power I generated was incredible. They destroyed my media player, my journal and were planning to rob me of my money and new headphones. They deserved their fate, and I’d gladly do it again with even more perverse pleasure. Critters like those don’t deserve life or second chances. They’ve caused far too much pain to others, and if left alive, they would’ve continued on the same path without paying for their crimes.
Odion paused from reading and thought back to the night Apollo returned home with bruises on his face and blood all over his hands and clothes. Now everything’s starting to make sense. There were still pieces of information that raised some red flags, one being his reference to the creatures he exterminated. The way Apollo dehumanized his enemies as “critters”, “vermin”, “creatures” and “parasites” was the perfect recipe for murder. What the hell was he doing all the way out in Toronno anyway?
When I was on my way to Toronno, I ran into a gentleman at Aldridge station ...
“Was it to meet this guy?” Odion muttered before finishing the rest of Apollo’s letter.
I’ve dreamt of doing the same to Tyron, Donovan, Marcella, and every teacher at school who never gave me the time of day and believed I was just a good for nothing nigger bound to fail. Mrs. Cunningham immediately comes to mind.
In the case of Odion, he should consider himself lucky he’s my brother, or I would’ve wiped him off the face of this planet eons ago. Since he also may contain traces of what I possess, disposing of him might prove a little difficult. It’s not something I’m looking forward to, but I will do what I must if I absolutely have to. I know Ma wouldn’t have wanted her two sons fighting one another, but sometimes in life, you have to be selfish and do what’s best for yourself.
Tyron, Donovan, and Marcella, on the other hand, are an entirely different story. When I exterminate them is yet to be determined. There’s supposed to be a big dance coming up, so I might just start there and work my way home.
Odion crushed the letter in his hand and turned his attention toward the drawer that kept the blade he had stolen from Patrick. “You wanna show up at that dance, Apollo, and I’ll have a six-inch piece of sharp steel waiting for you.”
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