Chapter Twenty-One: Library

Fidgeting with the tightness of the chest strap on my new jacket, I stand there and look at myself in the mirror. I look… okay? The way the wine color contrasts with my slate gray combat suit is nice, and my SP isn’t visible from the front as far as I can tell. Which honestly is good enough for me at this point. I need to thank Bri again later…

I sigh in slight contentment, then shake my head as I strip out of the suit and put on my rest clothes. Today had been so SLOOOW after the bandit attack, and apparently we’re only fucking halfway to Kansas City? We’re currently idle in a small rest-stop depot they installed basically in the middle of nowhere, and it shows. There’s the concrete flat of the newer track splitting off from the one we were travelling down, and then literally nothing but flatlands in every direction you look.

With little to no pomp or circumstance, I leap over and flop down onto my bed. I was given first rest again today, primarily because I didn’t get much sleep at all last night and my two seniors should be more than enough to make sure everything is okay. Which, I suppose I won’t complain about it but I’m not exactly looking forwards to sleeping again. Especially since–

There’s a slam on the door, and I nearly jump out of my skin.

“Yo, Minea! You in there?”

Putting a hand on my slamming heart, I shout out, “Yeah, it should be open!”

The door opens to reveal David, which actually throws me off a bit because he does not look like he did when I first saw him. His face is less… distinctly identical to Liam’s, small individualities, his age, and what seems like the day’s exhaustion showing through far more as he moves to take a seat on one of the chairs on the other side of the room. As he sinks into the seat, he reaches up and runs his hand through his somewhat messy salt and pepper hair, tries to look at me then immediately looks away.

Unable to help myself, I blurt out, “Were you wearing makeup yesterday?”

David snorts, pulling out his phone.

“I see you’re one of the sharp ones. Yes, brother dearest insists we do on the first few meetings with someone in order to hide how old we truly are. I don’t have that same self conscious nature about it though, so…” He gestures at himself. “Behold, the true woes of being above sixty.”

Awkwardly laughing, I wring my hands a bit. “F-For what it’s worth, I thought you were mid fifties?”

David chuckles right back. “Flattered, but no. We’re four terrifying years from seventy as well.”

Shifting a bit, I look up at the ceiling. “Is your brother why you have an enforced cap on your DE? So that you don’t reduce your aging speed by getting a second ignition?”

David is silent for a few moments. “You must be nearing your second then.”

I nod. “It’s faint but I can feel the difference in our stores. It’s shockingly stark despite us both being V1.”

David sighs, then explains, “The short answer is yes. Basically, it’s been proven that when at or above your DE maximum you have a higher chance to induce further ignitions, so that is why I’ve had a cap installed. However, aging speed when you have DE is weird. I bet they told you simply, more ignition means more life right?”

“I-I mean, yeah, that’s the general consensus as far as I know?” I glance at the man, who is very pointedly looking at the floor. “Is it wrong?”

“Not exactly, but they’re missing the forest for the trees.” He reaches up to scratch the side of his head. “Yes, the more you ignite the longer you live, but that’s because your DE’s maximum capacity and regeneration rise, not because of the further ignitions. Any accumulation increases your lifespan by some amount, but only higher amounts visibly reduce aging.”

I get a sinking feeling in my stomach as reality sets in. “Oh, so you’re…”

“Yeah, I’m going to outlive my brother by probably a few years at minimum.” To my surprise, he doesn’t seem too crestfallen at this. “I’ve come to terms with it in the forty years since I came out to our parents.”

Blinking, I tilt my head. “What does that have to do with igni– Oh.”

My mouth dry, I nervously look away. “S-So, thanks for volunteering for this.”

David laughs at my blatant redirection. “No biggie. Like I said, I need to get used to it eventually, and I figured you’d rather have the group’s only dedicated boy kisser here than any of the rest of the crew.”

“Huh.” I consider that for a few seconds. “Wait, we ALL like girls? You’re the only one who doesn’t?”

“I don’t get it either, Grim,” David’s voice starts to get impassioned as he declares, “I mean, you’d expect there to be at least one straight girl in the crew, right? But noo, my brother is straight as an arrow, Jun is a monument to womanhood, and the MIT pair are bi disasters.”

I nod. “I don’t even know what my particular inclination even is, but I do know girls… uh… Pretty?”

“Liam made the right choice to not let Jun take this job then, I doubt either of you would get any sleep.”

Flushing a bit, I gape at the man. “Pardon!?”

He smirks after he steals a glance at me, then begins to type away at his phone. “Whew, yeah, okay. Brion, please remind Liam to not let our lesbian thirst trap near this one without a chaperone, it’s imperative for the future of our crew.”

{“Heard and marked. The conductor will be informed in the case that a meeting is inevitable.”}

“Wha- I don’t!” I swallow my embarrassment and hide my face in my pillow. “I probably wouldn’t let her do it.”

{“You do realize that the ‘probably’ is the problem here, correct Minea?”}

Groaning, I squish the pillow around my head. “All y’all do is bully me I swear!”

“Ohoho! We got the Texas in her to come out! We’ve done a great job tonight, Brion.”

{“Indeed, I am putting this conversation into my ‘successful teases of Minea’ folder, so that I can send it to her friend when we get to Kansas City.”}

My anguished scream is muted by comfy fabric as the two of them laugh between themselves.

Around me, the quiet stacks of a library loom, the smell of old books dominating everything. I’m on the ground in a space where there should probably be a table, a dim fluorescent light above me the only reason I can even see. I recognize this place – It’s the basement of the public library in downtown Fort Worth.

My thoughts are sluggish, hazy as I look around in confusion. But wasn’t I just- No, I suppose I fell asleep when I was looking for a book? I stand up, then find a wave of euphoria washing over me as I notice that I’m in my old sundress again. It feels like it’s been forever since I wore this!

Stepping over to the nearest shelf, I glance up to find that I’m apparently smack dab somewhere in middle of the 900s of the dewey decimal system, considering the sheer density of history books I can see. This particular shelf is dedicated entirely to the fall of the United States, which, yeah, makes sense I guess. I run my hand along the spines of the books as I walk, reading their titles as I pass.

The True Cost (of the fall of the U.S), Songhai or why you can’t discount West Africa, Egyptian Fashion, King Minos and the Labyrinth – Wait what?

I glance up with a tilted head. I definitely jumped more than four categories there, what’s up with that? I move to step back a shelf, only to find it also laden with Greek Myths. Moving to the other side of the aisle, I find more of the same, with more and more of the shelf being filled with stories about the labyrinth.

Unsettled, I gulp, then reach up and grab a book without checking it first. The book is absurdly heavy in my hands, the cover a almost pitch black hue with the words “The Labyrinth of Layers” blazened onto it in a bold gradient between red and gold. Curiously, there’s no author listed, and it becomes clear why as soon as I open the book to the title page.

By: Minea Rafflesia.

The pit in my stomach starts getting larger as I hesitantly begin to flip through the pages. Each page is my perspective of the world snapshotted into words, and the farther I get into the apparent autobiography, the more seems to be added to the other side.

“Ah, you found that one. It’s one of my personal favorites, you know.”

Jumping nearly out of my own skin as the world crispens around me, I drop the book onto the ground with a thud as I turn around to find an oddity standing there in front of me. It’s obviously the Hunger, my mind registers it as such, but they’re uncomfortably, lets say stable now.

They’re human, obviously, but unsettlingly so. They’re an androgynous and beautiful personage, their pale face perfectly symmetrical in a distinctly uncanny way. Their light gray hair, the kind that comes from age, is put up into a crown braid upon their head, and when combined with the way that they carry themselves they seem almost regal. There’s no sign of their typically eldritch form – at least, at first glance. Then I look into their kaleidoscopic eyes and nearly puke as I sense the infinite tentacles keeping them in this reality, bringing with them what seems like insurmountable power.

My heart slamming, I scowl at the Hunger. “Why are you here again? Can’t you just leave me alone?!”

It rolls its eyes. “Unfortunately for both of us, that’s not how this works. You should have figured that out by now.”

I bite my lip. “What did you do to me?”

“Why, nothing.”

Crossing my arms, I take a few steps back. “Bullshit.”

“I have never lied to you, dear Minea.” It tilts its head as it grins from ear to ear, revealing a great void within its mouth. “It’s you who is seeking me out, even if it’s not consciously."

Gritting my teeth, my heart slams harder and harder. “I don’t believe you, I don’t want power that badly.”

“Are you sure about that, Minea?” It gestures at itself. “Why else would I take this form, one so noble? The depths of your hunger are as such.”

My mind reels as my heart, now running out of control, screams for me to destroy this thing. Destroy the thing dredging up parts of myself I have long since discarded, declared as false illusions of grandeur when my world crashed down upon me eleven years ago. It saw my memories, and that disgusts me.

I will kill it, no matter what.

My fear aura is not strong against things that are stronger than me, but surely it feels something. I push as much of my DE as I can into my power, a wave of nausea following as my strength quickly begins to leave.

And then something within me gives.

The hunger recoils, taking a step back. Its eyes open wide, before it starts to laugh. With a mental push, my heart crashes like it’s a bass drum. The Hunger is knocked back a foot as my power flares outwards, the bookshelves trembling around us. As it catches itself the monster opens its mouth to speak, before it freezes in genuine shock when something catches its eyes.

From the right shoulder down, its arm is just gone.

Thump .

The burst of power repeats, blasting away another of its limbs.

Thump.

It lours at me as it is once again knocked back another step.

Thump.

And another. Likely too hurt to continue being here, the Hunger begins to fade away.

Thump.

Crack.

I gasp as I fall onto my bed, power flooding into me with each beat of my heart, strong enough that I have to have gone through my second Ignition just now. My entire body trembles as I force myself up into a sitting position, though if from excitement or terror I do not know. I force myself to take deep breaths, in, then out.

In, then out.

It takes me a few minutes, but I calm down soon enough, reality solidifying around me to the point I feel comfortable in my own skin. The exhaustion covering me and the pitch black nature of the sleeper tells me that it’s still nighttime, so I reach over to flick the light switch above the bed.

As the space around my is illuminated though, my blood immediately freezes.

David.

Perfectly still, the man is completely limp in his seat. Bloodless, his face is frozen, contorted into an expression of pure horror unlike anything I have seen before. I stare at him blankly, hoping to all things holy that he moves. That he show the personality and life that he had in so much abundance before I fell asleep.

Eventually though, the truth of reality sets in with an overwhelming wave of emotions, strong enough that I can’t help but loudly sob.

There’s no possible question as to what I’m looking at right now.

He’s dead.

And I’m most likely the one who killed him.

If you find any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.