It rang in his head. He almost thought it came from an external source, but it rang in his head.
'Have I been summoned?'
'Who...?'
He was supposed to die, or at least get seriously wounded. His eyes were shut hard. His heart beat like mad, but nothing happened yet.
He didn't shut his eyes because of the bullet, though, but because of the blinding light that surrounded him, but he still expected the bullet.
Then, there was that voice.
It was clear, vague, sharp... hard to describe, but it resonated in his head, a deep voice.
They were all three mash-ups in the same seconds. He wondered about the light and the voice, but also wondered why he wasn't shot. Mark tried to open his eyes and see. He thought he could only manage to open up a minuscule slit before the light would blind him, but that didn't happen. It was bright, too bright that all his surroundings were dyed with a dark golden hue, but his eyes weren't blinded. He blinked a few more times before he completely opened his eyes ultimately. It was bright, but he could see without being burnt out.
The bullet was in front of his nose.
Mark let out a panicked yell and jerked backwards. It was stuck midair.
He blinked.
Everyone else was stuck too.
Dennis with a wild face and a wide open mouth. Bug in front of Mark holding his gun. The minion behind Dennis, looking down with confusion on his gun.
It all stopped.
'Did time stop?'
'It is merely a fraction of a second. Have I been summoned?'
A chill spread on his spine as he heard that. He felt like a bug whizzed and flew in his brain.
It was mad.
His heart went mad. It raced too quick. His breathing might not be able to keep up.
'Have I been summoned?'
'I don't know, OK?!' He snapped. He didn't know how else to answer. After he took a deep inhale, trying to calm his racing heart and brain, he said, 'Just, who are you?'
He felt an annoying itch on his right hand. When he looked at it, he found a dark golden inscription on his palm. It wasn't any sort of writing, but the exact shape was hard to discern because the lines were thick. The gold colour faded and dissolved to a mere carving on his palm.
It was a small drawing of a quill, a really small quill.
'I'm dreaming,' He concluded. 'It's a really bad dream. I didn't do my calculus test yet, and I probably didn't even have a fight with Ian. Lea's offer wasn't real, and neither Dennis nor Sally is in danger.'
'I'm afraid that is not the case.'
'SHUT UP!' he yelled out loud.
'You've summoned me.'
'No, I didn't,' whispered Mark. 'I don't have the slightest clue what you're supposed to be.'
'Rather, you don't have the slightest memory.'
Reality hit him hard in that second, like a truck slamming him face on. He didn't believe he never thought of it before. Ian and Lea kept telling him that, but he never fully acknowledged the fact. He never fully accepted the fact.
He wasn't Mark.
It wasn't that he would continue living as Mark with his past haunting him now and then. He would continue going back to who he actually was while being Mark when he needed.
The shock settled down eventually, and he finally acknowledged it. His shoulders relaxed. He looked at the mark in his palm. 'Yes, I don't.'
'However, you do remember how to summon me.'
'Do I?'
'You would not have summoned me otherwise. Now, stand.'
He didn't reply immediately. Mark even stuttered a bit before explaining himself. 'I'm hurt. I can't'
'Stand.'
Mark tried to pull himself together, and surprisingly, his body didn't ache at all when he stood up, despite the fact that he still had blood oozing from his shoulder, and his foot was fixed in a worrying angle.
'You do not need to know much about me now. It is enough to say I'm a material spirit.'
'What's that?'
'You do not have time.'
Mark kept quiet.
'I recommend you move aside. You do not want to get hurt.'
Mark remembered the bullet and did as he was told, so as to avoid the bullet if it started moving again.
'You have awoken your abilities from a slumber. Now all you need to do is to use them. I cannot give you guidance regarding that, but I do believe there is nothing to worry about, considering how you already used a significant amount of them.'
Mark panicked. 'Wait! I have no idea what I'm doing!'
The voice didn't reply.
'Great...'
Mark looked at his palm again. Maybe that had something to do with this. He knew time would come back again soon, but he didn't know when. He had to start moving.
What was he supposed to do though?
Mark exhaled and closed his eyes. In the second when Bug shot at him, he didn't think of doing anything. He thought hard in that moment, reminiscing the unpleasant feelings, and everything. The thoughts, emotions... Maybe he could find what caused this to happen then.
He couldn't think of anything. All he thought and remembered was the heartbeat, the terror, the blankness in his mind in that second.
The fear... the will to survive it... the desperation... the acceptance. Dennis and Sally... the need to protect them.
His hand itched again. Mark opened his eyes.
He clenched his hand into a fist. Last thing he wanted was that itch. He didn't want the itch at all, but when he flattened his palm again, he saw the dark golden shape.
Something started materialising above his palm.
The light suddenly disappeared and the sound of the bullet cut through the air. His heart raced again in that second and he forgot he wasn't in the bullet's target anymore until it ricocheted somewhere away.
Bug furrowed his brows.
Mark furrowed his brows.
Dennis furrowed his brows.
'Just... How am I supposed to use this?'
Crossbows were old fashion, but he had one in his hand.
Bug didn't think much about it though. He simply aimed at Mark again and shot.
Mark panicked and ducked downwards. Bug wasn't the type of person to think a lot. He didn't give that much care to Mark's new possession.
The man behind Dennis stood up. He readied his gun again and pushed it at Dennis's head.
Mark stopped thinking in that second. He aimed at him and shot, not knowing or caring about how it would be done, but he cared soon afterwards. His eyes opened wide as a fast and narrow beam of light shot out of the crossbow, hitting the gun and sending it flying some long distance away.
They all faced Mark again.
He stood awkwardly in the middle, with no idea what he was doing.
The silence pervaded for a few seconds before Mark got kicked from behind and Cigar had him pinned on the ground.
'What do you think you're doing?' he asked Bug. 'I said he's mine.'
'Not my fault you fell down like a sissy. Maybe you need to fix that before choosing the next time.'
Cigar growled and Bug let it be afterwards and left them alone. Mark wanted to know if he was planning on hurting Dennis and if they touched Sally, but his head was firmly held on the ground.
'You have a nice trick on your sleeve,' he whispered to Mark's ears, 'but I guess you weren't thinking, right? The trouble you'll have to get through...'
Mark's breathing became ragged in that second. He couldn't decipher the whole meaning of what he said, but it hinted something grave.
Cigar didn't take out a gun. He probably guessed Mark had a couple of more tricks which would help against a gun.
'You see Bug right there?' he continued saying. 'I'll just tell you he gets nasty when he loses it. I'm sure you know. It's on the news all the time now.'
Mark didn't want to wait any longer and see what will happen. For all he knew, Dennis could be done with. He tried to reach out for his crossbow that he dropped. It was a short distance beside him and Mark was sure he could reach it, but Cigar pushed it further away.
It rang in his head again.
'You can summon me again.'
'I can do that?'
'Yes you can, though I am not sure I can help while you are down. However, you are free with your plans.'
Whatever spoke in his head was right. There wasn't much he could do with his crossbow while pinned down on the floor, but he didn't have any other idea and the tension was messing with his nerves. If that went on, he could lose it big time and mess things up in the process.
The crossbow disappeared and Cigar blinked. Mark didn't aim anywhere in particular. He couldn't see what was in front of him and he had to stick his arm out in an awkward angle that made his shoulder feel weird. That, with the weight of the crossbow made it a do or never do situation.
He shot.
Where...? He didn't know, but when he was in the no thinking mode, it didn't matter one bit.
The crossbow charged itself before it shot. Small shards of lights gathered in it and the string pulled itself backwards, but he also felt more exhausted in the process.
Mark guessed that it missed, but it did gather some attention. His shoulder failed him and there was no way he could use his right arm, but Cigar's grip loosened and he slipped off Mark's head. Mark summoned every ounce of strength he had and straightened himself upwards. It was hard, but he could move around a bit, even though his body still ached.
Dennis was down. The third minion was down. Bug's face was getting red, literally.
Cigar lunged forwards and held Mark across his ribs. Mark growled, but he had nothing else to do.
Sally was unconscious.
Dennis was probably dead.
Mark's body hurt too much, he couldn't even bother thinking.
'Bug's getting upset you know,' Cigar said again.
Mark couldn't care less.
'Should I show you?'
He didn't want to.
Mark knew what was happening.
The murders weren't normal. They never were, and those guys were probably more than just a gang.
Bug's skin was getting bluer by the second, not figuratively.
It happened every once in a while, and they couldn't contain him so he went berserk. Either that, or they meant for him to go berserk. That was Mark's guess. He wasn't even sure if Bug was human.
Bug walked to their direction as his eyes gave out a bright blue glow, a worrying glow.
Then he toppled forwards.
Cigar and Mark blinked as the giant fell down like a domino piece.
Over his back, was a hooded figure wearing a sweat-shirt. He was young, not too young, probably around Mark's age, wearing a black hooded sweatshirt that covered his face and a backpack. The hood, along with the sneaky takeover gave him the look of an assassin.
Cigar narrowed his eyes. He dropped Mark on the ground and stepped on his back, then he took out a gun from his belt.
Before Cigar could do anything though, the hooded figure disappeared with a pop
and reappeared in front of Cigar. He was ready and took hold of the boy's fist before he could bury it on Cigar's face. The boy gripped Cigar's arm, hopped over him to the other side and threw him over his shoulder. Rays of light appeared and shone in front of the boy and he let go of Cigar to take hold of a gun that materialized within them, then shot.
He shattered.
Shattered into million of pieces of shiny white.
The boy turned around and walked again to Bug. He held the collar of his T-shirt, lifted him and delivered a blow on his face. His nose bled, probably broke, and the boy dropped him on the ground again. Next was the minion behind Dennis. He dragged him from the collar of his shirt then lumped him beside Bug.
Mark pulled himself up, and even though he couldn't stand, he could sit at least. His body still ached and his mind whirred on a way to survive the ordeal. He didn't know if he could trust the hooded boy. Mark dragged himself away from Cigar who was taken down right beside him. He tried to stand up when he saw the boy holding Dennis by the shoulder and leave him lying on the floor beside Sally. His ankle failed him and Mark toppled on the ground like a Domino piece.
The boy stopped whatever he was doing and walked towards Mark. 'Need help?' he asked.
'No,' was Mark's immediate answer.
'More like, "I need it, but don't want to".'
Mark leaned on his left arm to push himself upwards to a sitting position again. He saw a smirk underneath the hood.
An annoying smirk...
An unbearable smirk....
A smirk that sent his blood boiling...
He hated it for absolutely no reason.
The boy took off the hood to reveal a young, calm yet energetic face. He had a subtle heart-shaped, boyish jaw, black, well-trimmed hair and skin that's paler than most people you see. It was pale, not just fair. That, along with the light grey eyes, gave him the image of a ghost.
He sat down in front of Mark and Mark was startled when he reached out for his shoulder.
'I want to help you,' he said.
'How...?'
'Just, stop moving. You'll see.'
Mark pulled himself backwards. 'How am I supposed to know I can trust you?'
The boy sighed. 'Should I call Lea for you? Let me mend that shoulder of yours. The other need help.'
'How are you supposed to do that?'
He didn't answer but forcefully took hold of Mark's shoulder. No magical light flashed or fairy dust sprinkled, but his shoulder felt considerably better. It still throbbed slightly, and when the boy took a bloody hand away, the injury was still there. Mark closed his eyes tight before the boy completely removed his hand.
'It's not completely healed,' he said as if answering Mark's confused gaze. 'No one can do that, but at least you can move around now.' He finished his speech and continued with Mark's ankle. After a few seconds, he smiled and said, ' There's nothing I can do about that, but it's better if we get closer to your new friends for now.'
'New friends...?'
'Who are you?'
The boy got startled, as if caught offf quickly.
'I'm Noah,' he said. 'Now, let's get you there.'
'No,' said Mark. The guy annoyed him. He didn't know why. Well, there was the fact that he didn't know a thing about him and he just showed up and started acting as if Mark was cool with everything, but then Mark... just didn't like him. Standing up became easier with his shoulder healed, but his ankle still acted funny.
Noah stood up. 'Well, if you insist,' he said and headed towards Sally and Dennis.
'Wait!' Mark yelled out and limped as fast as he could to block Noah's way. His ankle gave him away again once he did and fell down on his butt.
'Careful there,' Noah said, 'or you'll ruin your ankle big time.'
'You're not laying a hand on them,' said Mark weakly.
Noah shot him a flat look. 'What will you do then?'
'I'll... I'll find a way,' said Mark as he worked on standing up again.
'That's sweet,' said Noah and moved on, as if nothing happened, but Mark grasped his arm before he walked too far. Noah turned back and faced him. Mark looked at him straight in the eye.
'I still don't trust you.'
'Proving to you that I'm trustworthy may take time. Your friends can't wait for that long,' he said while eying Mark's arm with a cold, flat look.
Mark's grasp tightened. 'I'm still not letting you.'
Noah looked up at Mark. 'Let go.'
A shiver ran down his spine. His ankle became weaker all of a sudden and his heart raced like never before.
It wasn't magic.
It was the look.
The commanding look in Noah's face, his eyes froze Mark in his place and the shiver invaded his whole body. The look said one thing.
Let go.
There was no room for discussion.
Comments (0)
See all