Crap!
He quickly jumps out of bed and puts on his cleaned clothes. After ensuring he had everything on him, he left his room and walked to the lobby.
Okay, let's get-
Before he could finish his thought, his stomach interrupted him. It had been two days since he last ate. Making a U-turn at the doors, he directs himself to the hotel's restaurant. He orders himself the Meteorologist special for his breakfast.
Really going in on the puns, huh.
After judging the hotel's naming method, he returns his focus to the task at hand.
Okay, first, I need to find leads. Can't afford to get Igor involved in this. Senzo’s a no-go…Byron. That's it, Byron is my lead.
The waitress returns with a trolley behind her, placing his meal in front of him. Turns out the weather forecast today is sunny side eggs with toast and bacon. The waitress then places a stack of waffles and a fruit bowl next to it.
Is that it? Guess they ran out of puns.
Digging into his meal, his mind is stuck on Byron.
Okay, they will probably be watching the house closely. I could stalk them. Hang around the area…no, Byron probably gave them a description. What about calling the orderlies? No, that wouldn't work. Probably under Baltro's thumb.
Finishing his main meal, he moves on to his desserts, beginning with the waffles.
I can't see any other way. I'm going to have to go to Byron.
Pulling out his phone, he opens the message from Byron. He types ‘Understood’ and sends the message. I should wait a bit. Need to make sure they are ready with the trap. Wait, what about Senzo…no, there is no telling what they have planned.
Ken quickly finishes his meal and heads to the reception to check out of the hotel. Once done, he slowly makes his way back to the safehouse, staying vigilant the entire time. On his way, he's trying to figure out how to handle this. He could play the fool, but that would risk his dying. He could maybe pretend partially and then escape after gathering enough information.
He stops at a street before the safe house and leans on a wall, taking out his phone and pretending to be busy on it. Opening the camera, he uses it to check if anyone is monitoring. From what he can see, children are happily playing on the side of the road, and some of the residents are tending to their gardens or leisurely chatting. He leaned there for a while, not drawing attention.
This stinks of surveillance. The same car has passed twice. That grass he is cutting has already been mowed. The children aren't reacting too much to the sun, and the group of ladies talking over there keep smiling, not one moment of seriousness in conversation or shock. Guess Baltro couldn't afford actors.
Putting his phone away, Ken walks toward the safe house. He rhythmically knocks on the door, giving the signal. Suddenly, the street goes silent, and he feels eyes on him. Pretending to be oblivious, he doesn't turn around. Knocking on the door again, he watches the reflection on the porchlight slightly above him. No one is sneaking up on him. But looking at the residents, they are standing still…facing his direction.
Guess they want to hear what I have to say.
The door suddenly opens, and Byron greets Ken.
Where's Senzo?
“You took your time. Get in,” Byron coldly greets. Without hesitation, Ken walks past Byron into the lounge. As he approaches, he finds Senzo seated, sitting in an unusually upright position, wearing his signature shades and a bit too bright a smile.
“Hey, Senzo,” Ken awkwardly greets, but Senzo doesn't reply, still looking straightforward. “Senzo?” Ken says again, but is met again with silence.
Ken hears the door lock behind him. Trying to figure out what's going on, he quickly crouches toward Senzo and removes his shades. His eyes were carved out!
“No!” Ken exclaims in horror.
“Unfortunately, the Navigator deemed him lost to the dark. He hoped by removing his sight he would see the truth, but that was too much for our poor friend,” Byron says from the hallway, his footsteps echoing. Ken's heart starts racing, and a cold drop of sweat crawls down his forehead. Looking at the table in front of Senzo lies his phone.
“He would choose the wolf… killing the Navigator’s children…” Byron’s voice sharpened as he walked closer, each word sounding more sinister and colder.
Ken quickly grabs Senzo's phone and takes out his multitool.
“OH, NAVIGATOR, TAKE MY GIFT! I HONOR YOU BY SLAYING THE WOLF!” Byron shouts, charging into the living room. Without hesitation, Ken activates the flame thrower, blinding the charging Byron. Dodging him, Byron crashes through the sliding door and falls off the stoop and into the garden.
“Please forgive me, Senzo!” Ken hastily says, pocketing Senzo's glasses. He runs through the broken sliding door and jumps over the fence. Ken continues to run, daring not to look back. He jumps over another wall and is on the street. He runs on the sidewalk toward the city. A man and a child stand in his way, holding a bat and a shiv in their hands, respectively. He points his multitool toward the street lamp behind them and fires the tether, latching on firmly. He then activates its reel, and it pulls him toward the pole. Using the momentum, he knocks down the child and the man, falling himself after. Standing up, he resumes running, activating the tool's dagger feature.
As he approached the edge of the city, a large group of people had blocked his way. He tries to run back, but his pursuers are blocking it. Seeing no other way, he will have to cut through one of the houses. Running towards a nearby home, a lady with a kitchen knife stood in front of it. She quickly charges at him, but he dodges her. He quickly jabs his dagger into her leg and throws her behind him to slow down the crowd before entering the house.
In the left room, two people blocked him. Seeing no other way, he runs up the stairs and enters the room in front of him. Closing the door behind him, he quickly pushes the desk in front of the door. He runs to the window, and as he suspected, he can jump on the roof and over the fence to the roof of the neighbour's shed. The door suddenly starts banging as they try to break in. Opening the window and jumping out of it, he sees that some of his pursuers also thought of using the windows to get to him and are climbing out.
Ken immediately sprints and jumps, managing to land on the roof. Quickly hopping off, he runs and climbs over the fence into the city, hearing a crash behind him. Looking back, it seems his pursuers tried to follow, but the roof couldn't hold their weight. Trying not to celebrate his luck too much, he climbs over the fence and reaches the city.
Pushing through the crowds and blending in, and wary of any hidden pursuers. After a couple of blocks, the adrenaline wears off, and he feels a slight pain in his right side. Stepping into an alley, he pulls up his shirt to find a sharpened pencil impaled in his side.
Damn it. Must have fallen on it while escaping.
Touching the pencil, it's firmly lodged in his lower left abdomen, bringing with it a sharp pain. Unsure if it punctured anything, Ken painfully snaps the exposed end off and lightly covers the wound with his shirt.
Need to get medical supplies, but where? The Cloudy River is too far.
He peeks out of the alley; this street was close to where Stella and her bandmates lived. Ken leaned against the wall and contemplated his options. Igor had cut off contact with him. Sora and his group were too far, and even if he could sneak past all of them, the lodged half of the pencil was still wreaking havoc in his side, the growing blood stain a consequence of that.
The blood stain is growing.
No! More serious than I thought! A pharmacy, maybe? I could get some supplies and fix myself up. Wait!
Ken tries to grab the phone Gearfried gave him, but as he moves his left arm to reach it, a sharp pain surges through his body. He tries again, pushing past the pain, but the wound seems to have worsened, causing the stain under his shirt to go darker.
Can't!
Realising he has limited options, he grits his teeth and strangely crosses the alley, trying his best not to aggravate the wound while moving. Yes, this alley is close to their home. Looking out of the alley and across the street, he finds the same home he saw two days ago. Shrugging off the pain, he stops by the sidewalk as the door to their house opens. Out walks Stella, followed by her bandmates.
How pathetic am I? The third time I needed help.
The group seems to be joyously talking with one another.
I always thought I could handle everything. But everyone I come in contact with ends up with problems. If Senzo had just left me, he would still be alive. If I didn’t kill Markov, none of this would have happened. And now you, Stella… will you become fodder as well? Was this all worth it?
Stella locks the door behind her while the other two wait for her.
No…I couldn't have avoided this. I needed to do all of this. If only I were smarter, maybe I wouldn't be standing here. But here I am…another crossroads. Do I die by my ideals, or survive? Ken's body is paralysed by indecision. His conscious arguing and his body were unresponsive. Stella walks down the steps and looks up, noticing Ken standing. Watching.
Do I deserve help from someone else? Heh, when did I become so dramatic? No, I still need to do something. Making up his mind, he takes a step forward, looking to his sides; no cars were coming. With each step he took, his body felt a little colder in the warm midday sun. As he got closer, he noticed Stella and her bandmates become overtaken with shock.
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Please don't look at me like that. I have already lost so much. I’m so sorry.
A wave of shame hits him, and he stops in front of them, their words drowned by his thoughts. He couldn't feel the pain anymore.
“I'm sorry, but I need your help,” Ken says in a disheartened voice, his eyes unable to meet theirs.
Bristol and Melanie suddenly grab him by the shoulders while Stella hurriedly unlocks and opens the door to her home. The two drag Ken inside, the door being slammed shut behind him. Stella runs upstairs while the two rush him to the kitchen.
Melanie clears the table, whereafter Bristol rushedly places Ken on top of it. She shouts something to Bristol, but Ken could only hear a sharp, ringing noise. Stella returns to Melanie with a large bag while Bristol removes his clothing. Melanie digs through the bag and pulls out a syringe and a vial of some liquid.
Ken is inattentive to the whole situation, not realizing that Melanie already injected him with something. The ceiling light becomes blurrier as he loses consciousness, darkness overtaking him.
A couple of hours later, Ken opens his eyes. He finds himself in a bathtub with his right wrist handcuffed to the safety railing.
“Ugh, again?” He complains out loud, slightly shivering from the cold. Looking out the window, it's nighttime. He stares at the dark ceiling, collecting his thoughts. “What has this all been for?” he says to himself. He thinks back to the day he first met Senzo.
Several years ago, on a cold morning in an abandoned building, a young boy was thrown to the floor in front of a group of strangers. The boy wore rags and was covered in filth, his body malnourished. The boy looked at them with a soulless, cold stare, his consciousness hanging by a thread due to Sleeper in his veins.
“This has been our most successful batch yet,” a loud and deep voice shouted behind him, “ See the effects for yourself! No matter what we do, he won't fight back.” The boy was suddenly
kicked in the ribs and sent falling toward another corner of the room.
A woman walked toward him and lifted his face, staring into his eyes. She sighs, “Repro, my dear, this boy barely has any spirit in him.” She lets go of his face, letting it fall to the floor, “It will barely leave any entertainment. I might as well have fun on my own at that point.”
“Yes, but they are so much more docile, less upkeep, and more relaxed,” Repro excitedly replied, “You can do anything to them and they won't even know what’s what.” A man next to him hands her an envelope with a CD labelled ‘A boy and his keeper’. Repro looked toward a small group of men in the far corner, “Would you also like a copy, Phenton?”
“Keep that reprehensible filth to yourself!” Phenton responded with a disgusted tone, “I do not wish to watch how you play with your toys!”
“Your loss,” Repro dismissively replied.
Regaining feeling in his arms, the boy tried to stand up, but without energy or nourishment, his arms were barely able to lift him.
“Ohh, it seems our little friend here is coming back,” The woman said in intrigue.
A man next to Repro took out a baton and moved toward the struggling boy.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” a sharply dressed man said as he rushed out of Phenton’s group and stood between the boy and the man.
“Senzo, what are you doing?” Phenton asked confusedly.
“With all due respect, are you guys really going to off a potential source?” He asked.
“He has served his purpose as a test rat,” Repro coldly replies, “I suspect he is developing immunity, so as per protocol, he will need to be executed.” Finished speaking, the man continued toward the boy again, but Senzo blocked him again.
“Doesn't mean we have to kill him. The boy is still young, fresh, and green. a blank slate. He could become a useful asset. Right, boss?” Senzo desperately asked Phenton.
“Hmmmm, I see your point. Where did you get him, Repro?” Phenton asked, interested in the proposition.
“Bah, Salomin sold him to me. Some debtor's kid.” Repro responded.
“I see…We have the clay and all we need to do is the sculpting,” Phenton said thoughtfully.
“If you don't want him, I could take him off your hands. Would make for some exciting situations,” the woman excitedly said.
“No need, I’ll take him in,” Phenton decided.
Senzo picked up the boy and dragged him toward Phenton's group. “That will be all from me tonight. Do not involve me any further in either of your lecherous schemes. Men, we are off.” His small group of men left in a neat, orderly manner. Once they returned to their home base, he spoke again, “Senzo, Byron, you will be in charge of him. And Senzo, one last thing. You forced my hand tonight. I pray for your sake that the boy there will not be a burden, am I understood,” he finished with a stern tone.
“Understood, sir. I thank you for your benevolence!” Senzo said while bowing.
Ken's focus returns to the ceiling, wishing to lie like this forever, somewhat comfortable and safe.
I need to get going, I suppose.
He looks around the bathroom, but unfortunately, he can't see much due to the absence of light.
Once I get out, I still need to find info on Baltro. But first, I need to find a way out. He tries to feel for his multi-tool but realizes they removed his shirt and emptied his pockets.
Explains why I felt a bit chillier than usual. His mind drifts off to Sora and Gearfried. My first task for them and already hit a dead end. After earning their trust, too. His mind then remembers the interrogation and the lie he told. The bet. I forgot about looking into how it worked. But why did I still win? His mind focuses on the betting he used earlier, and the event around it keeps repeating in his mind. Earlier, I was supposed to lose that bet, but why didn't I? I didn't dig through the database, but someone else did. I asked someone to get someone to dig into it for me. But I didn't dig through it. Did the bet accept the lies, or is this system just a facade? Wait.
He looks around, struggling to come up with a bet. Through the window, he saw the moon peaking through. A weird and risky idea came to mind. Maybe wording is important? He takes a deep breath. Here goes, I bet my eyes that I can count the number of craters on the moon.
The familiar voice rings in Ken's head, announcing, “THE BET HAS BEEN MADE AND THE STAKE HAS BEEN DECLARED! THE STAKES WILL BE WITHHELD UNTIL THE RESULTS HAVE BEEN ANNOUNCED.”
The room suddenly darkens as his eyes are taken again. Okay, if my theory is correct, this should work. The image of the moon pops up in his head, and he counts the number of craters from it aloud, “One, two, thr-”
Before he could finish his counting, the voice announces, “THE BET HAS NOW CONCLUDED AND THE PLAYER HAS FULFILLED THE CONDITIONS. THE WINNINGS ALONGSIDE THE ORIGINAL STAKE SHALL BE RETURNED!”
To Ken's surprise, his vision returns to him. The world is a bit clearer to him now. It worked!? But why? Wait…the wording. I said that I could count them, but I didn’t specify that I would count them all. So, according to the sentence, I won through a loophole. Interesting. His mind returns to the interrogation and the lie he made. But I said I would tell them the truth. I wasn't the one who dug through the database. Igor's contact did…Maybe because I requested the information, by relation, I technically did it…no. That can't be right, that’s too far a reach. But nothing else makes sense.
Ken takes a deep sigh, his mind bursting with thoughts. It had been a while since he had this much energy. This ability got a bit more interesting. I should make more use of it, but for now, I need to get out. I bet my right arm I can stand up.
The voice repeats itself, and Ken's arm disappears, the handcuff flopping downward due to their captor leaving. He turns slightly, but as he does so, a strong surge of pain passes through his lower abdomen.
“Ugh, damn it,” he grunts as the flashback of the child holding the shiv passes through his mind, “Out of all the things...” After several minutes of struggling with a surprisingly tricky task, Ken stands in the tub. Out of breath. Completing the bet, his arm returns, feeling slightly renewed.
The bet can be vague, but the goal needs to be absolute, huh?
Leaving the bathtub, he begins looking for a light switch. He walks cautiously, his hands stretched out in front of him. making sure not to make noise. His hand finally lands on a cool surface. Feeling alongside the wall, he eventually finds the switch and flicks it. The bathroom lights up, temporarily blinding Ken. After adjusting, he looks around the bathroom. It's messy, with hygiene products and clothes strewn around. None of his belongings in sight.
Ken walks toward the mirror and examines himself. Looking at his lower abdomen, it is neatly bandaged, and the wound is being held together, evident from the absence of blood stains. He looks at his face; his hair is slightly messy, but the bags under his eyes have become lighter. Examining himself closer, some colour has returned to his face. He opens his mouth, and a thought pops into his head. When was the last time he brushed his teeth? He looks around and finds a bottle of mouthwash. He takes it and waterfalls it into his mouth, giving it a hearty gurgle before spitting it out. It wasn't the best option, but it would do for now.
What am I doing? I need to get my stuff and leave.
Washing his face, Ken walks toward the door and places his hand on the handle. Before opening, he places his ear against the door to avoid unwanted surprises. Silence. He slowly turns the handle and opens the door quietly. Unfortunately, the door was unaware of the plan and announced its action throughout the house with a loud creak.
Just my luck!
Giving up, he pushes the door open quickly and looks around. No one was there. The house was quiet and all of the lights were out. Playing it safe, Ken quietly sneaks around, making sure not to let his presence be known. After checking the house, he finds it to be empty. Realising the opportunity that lay before him, he began searching the house for his stuff. He first started in Stella's room. He remembered it being hers, as this was where he was first captured. After searching her room and trespassing on her privacy, Ken found nothing.
I don't think she will forgive me for checking her underwear drawer. Best to pretend I didn't touch it.
Afterwards, he searched the adjacent room. The room had a bit of a darker feel to it compared to Stella's. The room was neater, but there were pictures of heavy metal bands and slightly off-putting pictures on the wall. Besides the dark colours on the wall, there was a table with dark makeup and a desk with a rather interesting-looking computer. This must be Melanie's room. Not wasting any time, Ken gave Melanie’s room the same treatment he had given Stella's, although the only difference was that he kept the light on. He wasn’t comfortable with the lights off, especially after finding a book with a flesh-like cover called ‘The Nomicon’.
After searching, he found nothing but nightmares and has another secret he can't tell.
They are never going to forgive me if they find out about this.
Shrugging it off, he reaches the final room. Opening it, he finds pictures of the beach with Bristol and some friends. On the far corner is a digital drum set, and on the other side is exercise equipment. Besides that, there is a large surfboard hanging above the head of the bed with the words, ‘Surfs up’ written on it. Without a moment to waste, Ken begins digging through the room. He finds an open letter and a trove of medals and trophies. He already trespassed on enough people's privacy for one evening, so he gently placs the letter back. After turning the room upside down, he found nothing again.
Having failed in retrieving his possessions, Ken returns to the living room. He starts searching the rest of the house, checking every cupboard and closet he can find. Still, he found nothing. After an exhaustive search, he flops helplessly on the weirdly uncomfortable couch.
Must be an acquired taste.
Leaning forward, he put his hands together and took a deep sigh. He contemplates leaving and looks toward the front door, only to find an alarm system. He is essentially trapped. Orderlies have been responding faster nowadays, and without his clothes, he would stand out like a sore thumb. He could have used Bristol's clothes, but they are too large and don't fit his style.
He takes a deep breath, and his mind drifts to Senzo's corpse. He has been trying to keep himself busy for the past hour or so to avoid thinking about it. Ken, in his heart, can't help but feel shame for his death.
Senzo never deserved this. Yes, he did some shady things, but not this. Not him.
Ken shakes his head and focuses back on his situation. Right now would be a good time to escape. But if I don’t get my stuff back, I-...what will I do?
Ken digs through the house again, checking all the drawers and cabinets. Again, he is unsuccessful.
I'm sorry, Senzo.
He does another search, checking under furniture and looking in nooks and crannies.
If I had just returned.
He feels along the walls for hidden compartments and peeks out of the windows to see if there are containers outside.
I should have died, not you. If only I fail-
His thoughts are interrupted as he hears chattering coming from the outside.
“See, no alarms. Told you that medicine would knock him out for a while.” He hears a voice say. It sounds like Melanie. He thinks at least.
Got back faster than I expected.
“Did one of you guys leave the lights on?” A man asks.
Ken sits on the couch. Well, no point playing hide-and-seek.
Hi everyone, It’s been a while since the last chapter, and I wanted to thank you for your patience. Some personal matters and work responsibilities forced me to put uploading on hold, but I’m back with renewed energy.
On the creative side, I’ve been practicing both drawing and 3D modeling. My drawing still needs more work, but 3D modeling has been going especially well. I plan to create low-poly animations of key scenes in the story. They’ll be unvoiced and without sound for now (no budget or good enough reason for voice actors (yet), and I refuse to use AI, as it goes against my creative principles). Over time, I’ll refine the style further, but for now, they may be a bit rough.
Looking ahead, many of my planned and currently publishing books will connect within the same universe. Soul Forsaken ties directly into True Soul and vice versa (easy enough to spot the link), and Before I Sleep… will serve as a prequel. Future projects will each have different protagonists and their own unique arcs. A few working titles include:
- Forsaken Soul: And the Crowd Goes Wild (not about Stella and the roses)
- Soul Forsaken: Oath of Sun
- Soul: Apex
- Soul: Calm Horizons (Danzo Jr.’s story)
Thanks again for sticking with me, and I am excited to share more soon.