Well did not want to return to his apartment just yet. He decided he had needed to take a stroll somewhere and have a grasp of the free and fresh air— if there was any— from the metro. He went to the City Central Park. There were tens of benches made out of bamboo painted in three kinds of blue, and giant pots with shrubs and other decorative plants planted in it. They were not much people passing by. There were a few, but they did not even exceed in twenty. Five of them seemed like a group of high school students, judging by the uniform they all wore the same. Three were couples, and then the rest were bypassers stopping by to either take a picture or rest for some time. Well sat in one of the benches and laid off the paper bag where his brand new cell phone came in a box. He took it out, unboxed it, and only then when he saw the phone did he heave a heavy sigh because finally, after days and nights and twilights and dawns, he now had a new phone. However, it did not make any change
"Jacel Mae Forecaster? Wow. What a strange name that is. Sounds like someone from Western part of the world," Well told the girl who had now moved closer to him. "So, how long have you been here? In this place? I bet you have been here for more than a year already, because I can tell how much you memorize the place like the back of your hand," Well continued, there was a hint of smile trying to get on his face but he did not want it to be noticed by the girl, who, to him, was nothing more than just a stranger he met on the place. "You are such great when it comes to second guessing," the girl replied, twirling a strand of her hair around her index finger. Confused, Well asked. "What? Really? How can you say so?""Because I really did come all the way from New Zealand, a Western country, like what you have guessed. I came here a couple of years ago to pursue the same thing, my studies." The young lady's brief explanation seemed to have caught the interest of Well that he was forced t
"I hope you don't mind, but I am just wondering, how did you and your family cope up? I mean, the way of living here in New Bill? I assume the culture, traditions, norms, and other more things here are quite messier than from what you have gotten used to in New Zealand," Well asked, unconsciously scratching his knees with his long and soft fingers. "Uhm, actually, to tell you the truth," the lady said," I came here all by myself. I have no company the year I arrived here. And the decision of migrating all the way from New Zealand to here was solely mine. No one else knew I would be here, doing things like studying and whatnot," the lady explained, deadpan. “What?” Well exclaimed. “You flew all the way from New Zealand going up to here all by yourself? Without guidance from either of your family?” Well wanted to stand up to express how shocked he was, but then the wire of the earphones was preventing him from doing such a thing. “Fucker, that is a brave shit!” he cursed, although he
Both Well and the young lady arrived in the place. It took two full hours to be here, on the spot where the lady said was soothing, and peaceful, and tranquil. However, contrary to how she described it using her own words, Well saw the surrounding as the exact opposite of all of those adjectives. To him, the place was creepy, dark, bleak, and lonely. There was no way he would have seen hope and inspiration in a place like this. There was no way he would have liked it at all. Not especially when he saw no one around other than the two of them when he tried to wander his eyes in the dark corners. Not especially when the only noise he could hear were the whooshing of the wind, the rustling of the dried leaves, and the weird and horrific noises made by the bats which seemed to have doomed the place in utter chaos. “Uhm, sorry, but I think I might be a little confused. Just a little bit.” Well cleared his throat. Pearls of sweat were beginning to form on his temples, and it will not take
“Who would have thought that the city, which is typically known as the closest to perfection city in the South, has some sinister history to hide?” Well asked, although it was the kind of question that needed no answer. Jacel May could have skipped and ignored it. However, she chose to give it a try. “No one. Definitely no one. The first impression of the people each time they hear the name of the city are the kind of positive superlatives,” she answered, facing Well but looking at the swing moved by the wind. “You know, cleanest, busiest, richest, most improved, most developed, and many more of the likes. They never really care about the history. They do not really pay attention to the cause. That’s the nature of people. We are always after the effects,” Jacel May finished, and by the time she was done saying her sentiments, Well realized that perhaps she had a point. “Yeah, that utterly makes sense,” Well agreed. He heaved a heavy, airy, and sounding sigh. “But still. I just don’t
“Wow, I am actually a bit surprise to know that you have been surrounded by good people,” the young lady replied. “Anyway, where is he now? Your friend?” “That is a different kind of problem I kind of face right now,” said Well. His eyes were empty, and his face was in utter sinister. “My last encounter of him was when we went to this little Welcome Party for Freshmen students held in a fancy restaurant that turns into a bar during the night. We both went there. And every single thing was normal at first. He would talk to literally everyone he would meet, and then he would laugh with them for hours. Of course, because it was a damn party, there had to be tequilas and margaritas and beers and pretty much all kinds of wine and then everyone was drunk and then I felt like I was an outcast because I was the only one who had been in total control of my own self still. Everyone was literally drunk. Some might have been tipsy, but believe it or not, I was the only one who was sober. He woul
The two happened to walked past by the skid row— the proclaimed most dangerous and most risky part of the New Bill City. Not only did the rumors had a say about this, but the New Bill Police Department's data also showed that at least half of the incidents and crimes committed around the metro all through out a single year occured in the skid row area. Crime cases like kidnapping, robbery and rape were the most common to take place as the area itself was home to the city's most wanted and blacklisted criminals hiding amongst the poor people and beggars living in the corners of the unused infrastructures, under the bridges, and around the blocks. “Wow, I am actually a bit surprise to know that you have been surrounded by good people,” the young lady replied. “Anyway, where is he now? Your friend?” “That is a different kind of problem I kind of face right now,” said Well. His eyes were empty, and his face was in utter sinister. “My last encounter of him was when we went to this littl
The next day was Sunday and Well did not do anything except to prepare himself for the opening of school tomorrow. He had already ready his bag on the swivel chair beside his side table. Although nothing had been tossed inside it yet, Well was convinced he was going to have a productive day. He went to a grocery store earlier today, and there he made sure that he was going to have a good and fair amount of writing pads, pens, notebooks, highlighters, and a lot more of the usual school supplies. It had only been a few hours since the sun officially decided to light up the place, and Well had not taken any meals yet. As a matter of fact, he had not eaten anything since yesterday when he got home after a long walk with Jacel May, who got weirder and weirder the longer Well walked with her back to the City Central Plaza. Well moved to the closet and managed his clothes from his suitcases. Ever since he arrived here in his hotel room three days ago, he had only been able to unpack one out
“Nowadays, it is not only tangible things that are stolen. Culprits and stalkers like them are often sent out in the world to steal impossible things like information and codes. I believe that is the thing that keeps them from running after us. Because if it is only a material thing, they could have stolen it long before already. But it’s different. They are needing a piece of information, and only the best of the best spies and culprits can do it. Only those who are willing to risk their lives and last breath only to get their ears closer to the information that their bosses need,” Binsent Anchorman explained. “Okay, okay. Hold on, why are we here again? Because, technically, since I am now an official member of the alliance, am I not right to know the basics of this group? Like, what are we working for? And who? And why? And basically all the questions you think I need the answer from?” Arjay chimed in, standing by the end of the bleacher together with Allen Mar. Even up until this
Binsent Anchorman, together with Well, Arjay, and Allen Mar gathered all together onto the bleachers that were lining up outside of the church. “It has come to my attention that you are being followed. Now that we are here, somewhere that is least expected by the people to see us being gathered, I doubt if stalkers will still come after us,” Binsent Anchorman said as he laid down his suitcase on the ground. He was the first among them four to sit on the bleachers. This time, he was wearing a funny, little hat that did not match his tuxedo outfit at all. However, one thing that Allen Mar and Well could assure was that, in that outfit, he looked like their late friend, his twin brother, Detective Deib Anchorman. Well slouched down next to Binsent Anchorman; his eyes had been wondering around as if they were two little footage cameras scanning for possible threats around them. “I am now starting to question our presence in this city. Us being stalked remains a mystery to me. But one th
Binsent Anchorman, together with Well, Arjay, and Allen Mar gathered all together onto the bleachers that were lining up outside of the church. “It has come to my attention that you are being followed. Now that we are here, somewhere that is least expected by the people to see us being gathered, I doubt if stalkers will still come after us,” Binsent Anchorman said as he laid down his suitcase on the ground. He was the first among them four to sit on the bleachers. This time, he was wearing a funny, little hat that did not match his tuxedo outfit at all. However, one thing that Allen Mar and Well could assure was that, in that outfit, he looked like their late friend, his twin brother, Detective Deib Anchorman. Well slouched down next to Binsent Anchorman; his eyes had been wondering around as if they were two little footage cameras scanning for possible threats around them. “I am now starting to question our presence in this city. Us being stalked remains a mystery to me. But one t
In the taxi, nothing much had happened other than a small conversation involving Well, Binset Anchorman, and some interesting and trivial things about the late Detective Deib Anchorman, his twin brother. It was surely a wholesome moment. It was surely a wholesome conversation. But if not for the fact that Well was the one that initiated the conversation, none of those would have ever existed. “I only met Detective Deib Anchorman for like a couple of days,” Well started two minutes just when the engine started. “And just like you, he started as a taxicab driver, too. I met him when I asked for a taxi who can send me to the nearest ATM station because I just lost my phone and I needed to buy something. He was the one who accompanied me to the Octagon Shop where I was able to find myself a new phone. He was a good man, indeed. I don’t think if I have said this earlier, but this is something that I was not able to tell him. I was too selfish to even inform him how good of a man he was,” We
Just when Well arrived at the ground floor, he noticed some coalition of people not far from where he was standing. Intrigued by the on going noises, he went to see what was happening over there. After a few more meters of walking, he finally figured out what that mess was all about. Simple. It was primarily because over there was a food hall and the reason why he could hear metals banging against each other was because they were spoons and forks, and noisy people who were trying to satisfy themselves with the food that they eat. Apparently, it triggered the growling of Well’s stomach. All of a sudden, he wanted to dive into the line too to get himself something to feed for his angry tummy. Convinced that there was no time for his social anxieties anymore, he absentmindedly fell in line. He tucked his wallet out of his pants’ left pocket and draw out his credit card. Finally, he could eat now. It took him roughly ten to fifteen minutes to finally make it to the counter. There, he ord
With both of his hands clasping against each other, Well shot a gaze through the busy hallway. He saw nurses in the rush, assistants going back and forth and to and from different rooms, doctors running with their shoelaces untangled, and other more disturbing and unusual things for Well but were considered normal and part of the routine in any hospitals. Well decided to go for a stroll outside the hospital and find something to eat. He had not eaten anything since lunch time, and he barely even finished his food back in the tavern because of Allen Mar’s intuitive conversation with the bloke man about the three suspicious men in suit initiating a negotiation talk with the secret society’s leader. Time check, it was already ten minutes past seven in the evening. Around this time, Well should have had in his bed already– ready to sleep because tomorrow was going to be another day full of unwanted surprises– but here he was now, in the hospital, with someone he only knew less than ten hou
His nerves had never been feeling this tight. The flowing of blood all over his body had been insufficient, but the only thing he ever had in his mind was Allen Mar. He kept thinking of him. He kept thinking and thinking and thinking of him. Questions spun around his brain; ‘How was the operation?’ ‘Will he be okay?’ ‘Will he survive?’ ‘What are the odds of him dying?’ ‘Was the doctor not joking when he said that Allen Mar’s injury was serious and could even bring up his death if certain actions had not been taken immediately?’ With both of his hands clasping against each other, Well shot a gaze through the busy hallway. He saw nurses in the rush, assistants going back and forth and to and from different rooms, doctors running with their shoelaces untangled, and other more disturbing and unusual things for Well but were considered normal and part of the routine in any hospitals. Fully convinced that the operation will take longer than expected, Well decided to go for a stroll outside
Detective Deib Anchorman was the first to make it close to the manhole. When he got there, he drew his ear closer to the ground floor. “I don’t hear anything,” he said after five seconds of focusing all his hearing senses on the ground. “I am supposed to be hearing footsteps and cranking guns and indistinct chatters coming from the soldiers, but I don’t hear anything right now. “Is that supposed to be a good thing or a bad thing?” Well asked, his heart had been pounding so fast and so strong it was no different compared to a jack hammer used in smacking a hardened soil. Allen Mar chimed into the conversation and then corrected Well, “It is supposed to be a good thing, I believe. The detective not hearing anything from above only means that the soldiers have not returned from the search yet. That means we will have enough time to make it out here and perhaps even out of the vicinity as well. Although the latter would be so dangerous, and I don’t think our chances of success are that
Different scenarios had been playing in his head to the extent that he was lost already and could not distinguish the reality from the hallucinations. Hope had been the only chance he had. And although his abdomen churned in fear, and the back of his neck had been filled with goosebumps, Well only braved the situation and sat on one of the chairs at the waiting area, believing in his friend, Allen Mar that he would survive the operation no matter what. Prayers came out of his lips unconsciously without him knowing it. Fully convinced that the operation will take longer than expected, Well decided to go for a stroll outside the hospital and find something to eat. He had not eaten anything since lunch time, and he barely even finished his food back in the tavern because of Allen Mar’s intuitive conversation with the bloke man about the three suspicious men in suit initiating a negotiation talk with the secret society’s leader. Time check, it was already ten minutes past seven in the ev