“Mister, wake up.” Someone gently shakes his shoulders.
Asorotany groans, moaning into the ground. His bones aches. His tongue rasps, tastes like dust and fire smoke. He shivers.
“Are you alright, Mister?” The innocent voice rings again. Asorotany opens his eyes and shut it, recoiling at the blinding light. He struggles to move his limbs and pushes himself up. His senses are still recovering from sleep. Asorotany blinks. The world slowly emerges, from render white to blurry, murky green shadows and finally familiar monotone shapes.
“Where am I?” He mumbles aloud, searching his memory. He hugs his forehead. His mouth is dry and disgusting. “What time is it?”
“You are not in the belfry. It’s off-limit.” Asorotany glances at the monk. It takes him a few seconds to recognize it’s the boy last night.
“Sorry.” He clambers up on his feet. A stab of dizziness hits him. His memory is jarring apart. Like a glitch. “I’m going right off.”
The monk peers at him. “You sure you’re good, Mister?”
Asorotany doesn’t answer. He gives himself a pat-down and slips his phone out of his shorts’ pocket. 9:58 AM, the clock reads. Cursing, he scrambles down the little wooden stairs. The steps vibrate under his haste. The monk’s calling voice fading after him. His vision spins in circles as he sprints. A low rumble rolls through the shrine, blasting air as it sweeps through the ground. The brass bell tolls—one, two, three—ten times. It’s ten o’clock.
He skids out of the secret chamber. The monks snap out of their mediating cycle and raises their eyebrows as Asorotany dashes past them.
Asorotany makes a beeline to the entrance. The sun has risen high overhead, glaring angrily down at another overheated day. The grilling hot already chases away the cool night dew that wets his bones. At the doorway, he glances back over his shoulders, scanning the inside once more time.
He pauses at the shrine worship god statue. It’s different.
The black ram he sees yesterday isn’t there.
In its place is a man bearing water. In fact, there’s no ram whatsoever in this shrine.
…….
“You dare to drag your asshole face here?” Merleg slams his fist on the table. His computer and the ashtray clatter. “I was this close—this close—” Merleg pinches his fingers together. “—of capturing that Kozorog bitch.”
Asorotany fixes his gaze on the edge of the oak table, his head bows.
“For twelve years, I keep on chasing him.” Merleg is saying. “This is the first time that I ever had a chance to get my claw on him. And you just have to fuck things up at the last second.”
“It’s not totally useless.” Asorotany defends himself. “Kozorog acknowledges that he and the Nomad woman know each other pretty well.”
“Oh great, next you’ll be telling me he knows my wife.”
“Chief, my point is: maybe that woman is the key to Kozorog.”
“I don’t want to waste time interrogate another one-night-stand whore.”
Outside the office, he can hear whispering and jeering. The louvre doesn’t keep the prying eyes away. Shame and anger flare in his chest. Asorotany snarls mentally at them, trying hard not to ground his teeth.
They’ve always been looking down on him. Ever since cadet, people have been taking bet that he would flunk out of the law enforcing career. He has obedience issues, listening to his heart instead of his head most of the time. Working in the same station, under the same boss, along side the same people Fische had worked with, it’s like constantly swimming against a storm. The waves drown him under and push him up just enough for a frantic gasp before pulling him down into darkness again.
Little Halott can never keep up to Big Halott’s standard. Always reside in his big brother’s shadow. While Fische excels at all arenas, Asorotany scrapes by by dumb luck and a sheer perseverance. A shame to the Halott name.
Merleg stands and goes through the file cabinet. He makes a point by unnecessary slamming it shut with a loud bang. “Your brother would never fail me like this,” Merleg continues, slaps a file down. He goes over stuffs and purposefully not looking at Asorotany. “He would never run off after some random woman and abandon his job. He will stick with me and see that the mission is properly completed.”
“I’m not fucking Fische. Stop comparing me to him.” Asorotany snaps.
Merleg glares. “Then at least try to be as good as your brother, Halott.”
Asorotany scoffs and turns his face away. Hearing others holding him to Fische all the time has taken its toll on his nerves. Pretending to be Fische, pretending Fische’s thinking and personalities, pretending to live up to expectations that aren’t mean for him don’t make him another Fische. And yet everyone seems to force it onto his head, as if somehow their beloved Fische Halott will be back.
Merleg stoods up. “Forget about the transfer. You’ll stuck on roadwatch until you learn your manner. Suspend from action for ten days, effective immediately.”
Asorotany doesn’t reply.
“You need to grow up,” Merleg says as Asorotany rises. “Fische isn’t here to protect you anymore. I don’t have time to deal with babies throwing tantrums and Korean drama shit. I can fire you anytime. This is your last chance. Use your time wisely and reflect on your actions.”
Asorotany snatches his leather coat from the back of the chair and storms out. The station isn’t busy, only about five or six people are on duty. Shinwa isn’t a big town, and the people are pleasant peasants. Shinwa police force is small, everybody knows everybody and their secrets. The gossips floating here is way juicier than from The Talk.
Asorotany shoves his hands in his pockets and plows forward, mouth a hard line.
He goes straight to his car. He presses his forehead on the steering wheel and grips its side with both hands until his knuckles turn white, the pity look and amused smirk threw his way sear his skin.
A roar rips from his throat, curdling into something foreign and bone-rattling. He screams and screams and screams until he feels himself close to black-out.
Look at you, Asorotany mocks himself as he uses his sleeves to mop up his tears, Still a crying baby, huh.
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