He had lived in the city all his life, but never realized that there was some beauty to the inorganic steel and concrete. Marcus was thankful that he was able to appreciate such a wonderful sight.
“Found him!” A voice from behind him yelled. “Don’t move!” The voice demanded as Marcus slowly stood up.
Marcus slowly turned around to face the owner of the voice. A security guard stood by the door with his gun and flashlight pointed at him. Two more guards joined the first, their guns raised and ready to arrest Marcus for trespassing. Understandable, after all, the building he had chosen to gaze at the streams of light belonged to a private military contractor.
He could’ve chosen other buildings, but this one was the tallest. As the security guards drew closer, their faces aghast at the sight of single seventeen year old boy, with dark hair, green eyes and wearing nothing but a hoodie and jeans was able to sneak past their state of the art security system to sit on the ledge of the rooftop.
“Come with us quietly,” asked one of the guards, anger and confusion in his voice.
“Sorry guys,” Marcus said as he stood closer to the ledge. “But I have somewhere else to be.”
Marcus heard the three guards release the safety pins from their guns; they were seriously going to shoot him.
“Don’t do it, kid.” The first guard said as Marcus left foot hovered in the air.
Marcus grinned and as the three guards ran to him, hoping to catch him, to stop him from doing something crazy. Then he jumped with his back turned to the street. The guard’s hands touched nothing but air, and watched helplessly as the Marcus plummeted to the ground below.
There was a flash of red light and black wings sprouted from Marcus’ back, allowing him to glide safely to the street below. And just as he touched the ground, the wings lost their solidity and dissipated leaving nothing but a cloud of small particles that resembled the stars in the night sky. Marcus smiled to himself; the look on those guards’ faces as he threw himself off the ledge was priceless.
But it wasn’t over. Marcus heard voices coming from the main gate of the building, more guards. Up the street, red and blue flashes of light drew near.
Five guards surrounded him as the police cars parked just around the corner.
“Put your hands up!” One of the police officers ordered over the PA.
As they drew near, Marcus grinned again, and in a cloud of black smoke, vanished into thin air.
However, Marcus didn’t go very far.
He watched the police argue with the security guards, and it amused him how they tried to explain what had just happened. How hard they tried to explain how a seventeen year old broke into their building without them noticing it until it was too late, how after being discovered threw himself off the ledge and glided on a pair of black wings to the street below, then disappeared without leaving a trace or clue of who he was.
It had become a game he liked to play.
But in the beginning, Marcus didn’t treat it as such.
He was testing the abilities of the ring he had come across, an ordinary silver ring with a crimson jewel.
The crappiest day of his life, turned out to be luckiest as well.
After being suspended from school, his childhood friend playing tour guide to some new kid, and just when he thought things could get worse, he ran into a group of thugs that treated him like a human punching bag. Marcus recalled how he almost died that night, how he mustered all his strength to run away in the briefest of seconds when the thugs were distracted and hid inside an abandoned library, where he found a small, black marble hidden inside a secret drawer.
Marcus had trespassed into his house. He didn’t want his parents to see him all bloodied and beaten.
However, it was his blood that was the key to the enigma of the black marble.
Inside the marble was a silver ring with a crimson jewel in-crusted on its head. It clearly was crafted by a master jeweler. He thought he would give the ring to Abigail as a gift, but the image of that new kid popped into his head, and Marcus decided to keep it. He wouldn’t wear it at all. He would sell it online, to get some quick cash for his almost empty bank account.
But Marcus wondered where the marble went. It couldn’t just disappear like it did, enlarged to the size of a baseball by his blood and folded in on itself revealing its treasure. It was something out of a TV show. Perhaps, just perhaps, it was best to keep the ring.
As he twirled the ring on his desk like some silver top, Marcus wondered how he would explain his injuries to his parents. Come morning, his parents would come into his room and discover that he had bled all over the bed sheets. But no matter how hard he thought, Marcus couldn’t come up with a believable story, and no, there wasn’t any medicine that would heal him completely in one night. Most probably his injuries would get worse if he didn’t treat them right now.
Marcus thought of using the First-Aid Machine installed in the bathroom at the other end of the hallway. The machine was the latest in medical technology. It was capable of healing minor wounds, help mend broken bones and administer the required medicine for treatment and it didn’t make any sound at all, just a whirring sound that could be easily muffled by closing the bathroom door. The only problem was that the machine was hooked to a special computer his father had installed in his bedroom. Each time someone used the machine, it would send a signal to the computer in the form of a loud beep and a bright flash, also the machine wouldn’t be able to heal his broken ribs or reduce the swelling in his face. He had to tell his parents about what happened to him. His body began to feel numb and his vision swam in and out focus. Marcus had to go to a hospital as soon as possible.
Let me help you.
Marcus thought he was hallucinating when he heard someone or something speaking to him, but he couldn’t see who it was. He let out a quiet laugh. Was he going through some withdrawal symptom from those drugs that the thugs injected into his body?
What do you have to lose?
Marcus examined his bedroom, rubbed his eyes gently with the palm of his hands. He was alone in his room.
What are you waiting for?
The voice spoke again, but this time it had a familiar feel. Marcus remembered that it was a whisper that guided him to the where the ring was hidden. Was it the same voice? It was soothing, like a gentle touch. But where was it coming from?
Marcus thought he was going crazy when he glimpsed something move inside the crimson jewel of the ring. Was the ring speaking to him? What a crazy thought! How could the ring speak to him? It was an inanimate object!
And yet, he could feel it speak to him. Every fiber of his body shimmered, some kind of energy emanated from the ring.
Marcus picked it up, electricity ran through is finger tips as he examined the ring. This seemingly innocuous object was starting to alter his mind.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” He mumbled, his body trembling with excitement.
Marcus placed the ring on his right hand’s middle finger. It was a little big, no surprise there, rings are usual custom made to fit the client’s finger. However, this was no ordinary ring, as its silver band coiled around his finger like a snake, adjusting its size and even changing its shape.
Now the ring covered half of his finger, the band now resembled a snake’s body and the stone girdle had the appearance of a bladed cross. Marcus tried to take off the ring, but he felt that if he pulled any harder he would tear off the ring. He could feel it thumping as his right arm began to feel numb. Soon his senses were becoming numb as well, his vision swam in an out of focus as Marcus tried his best not to fall unconscious, but it was a useless endeavor.
"I can see what’s in your heart."
It was that voice again, its tone hadn’t changed at all, but Marcus wanted that voice out of his head.
"It will be alright."
Those were the last words Marcus heard before passing out on his bedroom floor.
Morning came, and much to Marcus’ surprise, he was alive.
Piercing light broke the darkness in his room, chasing away the nightmare from the night before.
Someone had opened the drapes and was standing beside his bed.
“Time to get up,” the female voice said.
It took a couple of seconds to recognize the silhouette and the voice, it was his mother. “Just because you don’t have school today doesn’t mean you get to wake up late.”
Marcus was confused, his mother didn’t sound worried at all, she sounded like her usual self. Didn’t she see the battered state he was in?
That’s when he realized the pain that numbed his senses was gone.
Marcus jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom as fast as he could and examined the mirror. His face didn’t show any signs of bruising at all! How was it possible? Then he proceeded to examine his body to see if anything hurt: nothing hurt. The cuts and bruises, even the needle marks were gone. Was the confrontation he had with thugs a nightmare? A result of the stress and anger he experienced at school that day?
A silver and red glimmer assured him that what happened with the thugs wasn’t a dream.
“Marcus what are you doing?” His mom asked.
“Just washing my face,” Marcus hurriedly replied.
“Don’t be long,” his mother answered. “We still have to talk.”
Marcus heard his mother walk away from the bathroom door, “what the hell is going on?” Marcus mumbled as he examined his reflection in the mirror. It was impossible for someone to heal completely overnight, even with modern medical technology. He even began to worry that such fast healing would have dire consequences on his body.
Marcus then focused his attention to the ring in his finger. Was the ring responsible for his sudden healing? It did react pretty weird when he put in last night, changing shape and coiling around his finger like some snake. As he examined the crimson jewel that shone even more brightly under the sunlight that entered the bathroom from a nearby window, Marcus felt that the jewel was looking back at him. Though a weird sensation, he wasn’t creeped out at all, it was a familiar feeling, and he couldn’t help but wonder why.
His parents were waiting for him downstairs, and Marcus had a few questions for them as well. So he took a quick shower, got dressed and went downstairs.
During breakfast they discussed what happened in school, his suspension and how was it possible that Mr. Acker still worked as a teacher. Marcus was expecting his father to yell at him or something, however, his father wasn’t the type of man to yell at someone when he got angry. He just sat there, listening and occasionally asked a question. It was his mother, who talked the most, but they both agreed that Marcus was grounded until the end of his suspension from school.
But Marcus did ask them what happened the previous night, both tossed him puzzled looks, but he insisted that they tell him. He needed to know what happened, why they weren’t waiting for him to have the talk they just had.
Marcus’ found out that he had indeed talked to his parents, but he didn’t have any memory of talking to them. Bastards! Marcus thought clenching his fist under the table so his parents would see his anger. Not only did they use him as a punching bag, but in his drug daze had him talk to his parents! He could’ve gotten killed, and his parents wouldn’t even bother to look for him until he went missing for more than a day.
Marcus didn’t pursue the matter any further. He didn’t want his parents to get more upset or become worried. After all he was fine, no scratches or withdrawal symptoms. It was best to leave it alone.
After his parents left for work, Marcus had to clean up the dishes and do some house chores as part of his punishment for getting suspended during the most crucial time of the school year. But he had little to worry about. His grades were good enough to skip a week, but once he returned to school he would have to tread carefully.
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