The Witch of Jakarta

Chapter 1: The City’s Talk

    The Monday sun has not yet surfaced through the city horizon. Amo continues her stroll, paying no mind to the dead boy at the corner of the alley.

    He was new to this world, not much older than herself. His broken face covered haphazardly with a damp towel, his butchered body sat still against the brick wall; left to rot. She pays no mind to the dead boy, no mind at all. However, she did pay mind to the cardboard sign laying on the dead boy’s lap, adorned with the familiar symbol of an upside-down heart; crookedly drawn with the boy’s blood.

    She could feel her stomach starting to churn at the thought of it, though she quickly blamed it on the lack of breakfast. It was as if that one symbol had contained the entire boy’s life and death, all from his conception to reason of execution. He was one of them, as she was now.

    She continued her journey through the cracked sidewalks, and finally through the bus stop; the distant yet familiar sound of the market people selling “freshly caught” fish and vegetables only made her hungrier. She needs to pick up her pace, then maybe she could get through the school gates before the bell rings. She wonders to herself as to why she chose this route today. Why she chose to walk the wrong way; setting her foot in the heart of the city when she needs to hurry to school. Yes, she needs to hurry indeed, but a certain sound of a child crying behind her had set off her instincts to wait a bit longer.

    'Mommy! Mommy! I saw another one!’

    ‘Hush child! We have to hurry, or you’ll be late for school.’

    ‘I’m scared! Mommy, I’m scared!’

    ‘Just go inside the bus honey, you’ll be saver there.’

    ‘No, I don’t want to!’

     Amo immediately jumped on the bus, realizing that the doors were seconds away from completely closing. The mother must’ve realized this as well, as she abruptly shoved her child inside; leaving the poor boy to cry alone.

    There weren’t many people on the bus at this hour, but the ones who are present had clearly seen everything. The child stood still, one hand tightly holding the railing while the other clutching on his tear-stained school uniform. His eyes completely motionless as he called for his mother as if she could suddenly burst through the bus door and take him back at any second.

    People were quick to comfort him, offering him a comfy seat by the window and various candies and treats the passengers happen to possess. The boy slowly calmed down and sat on the offered seat, though he was still crying a river onto himself. Amo said nothing, and promptly finds the farthest seat from the little boy.

    She rummaged through her pockets for a few seconds, and quickly finds what she needs: A tiny rose quartz, thinly coated with brass and gold. It is meant to heal the heart, given to the right person. She swiftly covered the stone with a handkerchief, carefully palming it with her hands; making sure no one and nothing saw her. She hastily covered her face with her dark hair, an extra precaution just in case there were security cameras watching.

    ‘Marekake,’ She whispered, feeling the stone glow and vibrate between her palms; before shattering into a small chunk of fine dust.

    She looked around one more time, making sure one last time that no one knows what she had done. She also glanced at the boy, making sure that she cast the spell onto the right person. Sure enough, the boy’s eyes begin to light up in pink, just for a moment, before instantly flickering back to its original dark hue.

    Amo smiled to herself, satisfied, cautiously leaving for her stop as she catches a glimpse of the child one last time.

    ‘You jumped through the fence again!?’

    ‘I was late!’

    Hannah quickly burst into laughter, slapping her hands on her lap as Amo desperately tried to protest. Mandy clicked her tongue, both worried and unsatisfied Amo’s with reason.

    ‘Why the hell are you always late anyway?’

    ‘Well, it’s not always the same reason every time…’

    ‘Then what was it this time?’

    ‘Does it matter?’

    There was a brief pause between them as they watch the environment around them. Other students had formed into their usual circle, leaving the three of them in the corner of the classroom.

    ‘By the way, did you hear?’ Mandy’s voice turned into a low whisper, her tongue slightly recoiling at the thought of the news.

    ‘About Andrew?’ Hannah quickly replied. ‘From class B, right?’

    Amo shifted in her seat. ‘Yeah, I heard.’

    Mandy leaned in closer. ‘Did you see him?’

    ‘I-’

    ‘Dear students and teachers, please stand up for the national anthem!’

    Instinctively, all three girls instantly stood up from their seats, as the scheduled national anthem promptly blared through the class speaker.

    It was an odd sensation, witnessing everyone suddenly stop in their tracks to listen to a song they've heard a thousand times. It was dissociating, yet so familiar. Uncannily ordinary.

    ‘Why has no one ever stood down for the anthem?’

    Mandy quickly pats her across the back and hissed, as if to tell her to keep her mouth closed.

    ‘Are you crazy!? They'll kill you for even asking that!’ Hannah half-whispered, her tone both disgusted yet demanding.

    ‘I mean she has a point,’ Mandy replied, quickly replied by a hefty slap on the wrist by her friend.

    Amo hissed at the sound of the girl’s half-whispered banter but said nothing more. She continues to stand, along with the others; with her knees bent awkwardly in protest with every passing second of the wretched melody's existence.

    As the anthem stopped, the rain had started to pour. The sky now a flat grey that was as dreary as this town, just a bit darker than her mood. Everyone skittered hurriedly into their seats, as the homeroom teacher briefs them for the morning.

    Mrs. Goodwill was... A nice person, if she tries. Though there was always something about her soulless eyes and pale skin that makes one's senses jump from comfort. She orders the class to simmer down, unconsciously scrunching on the sides of her velvet pencil skirt.

    ‘Now class, I'm sure we've all heard the news about Andrew...’

    The students begin to talk amongst themselves, the teacher's speech slowly fading behind their loud chatting. Their usual cheeky and lively atmosphere turned into one of fear and distrust, saying how they couldn't believe they had "one of them" in their own school. And of course, the word slipped out - “witches" by three laughing boys too stupid and selfish to know the damage they would cause.

    Amo excused herself to the bathroom, right after declining Mandy’s offer to accompany her.

    ‘Now now students...I'm sure we're all a bit scared, but it is at this time that we should be stronger. We shall keep our eyes wide as to not let this happen again.’

    ‘Burn the witch!’ One kid shouted, before quickly being shushed by other students.

    ‘Let us not succumb to their level. I do must inform you all, that the school security system has been tightened and upgraded,’ She quickly added, her tone both assuring yet threatening.

    The students groaned but did nothing more to protest. Mrs. Goodwill set her files by the desk in front of the classroom, reviewing what Amo could only assume as the new policy changes from the principal. The cobalt haired girl tried her best to calm her expression, seeing from the corner of her eyes that Mandy had been staring at her with an anxious expression.

    ‘Every student must report themselves to the nearest security post of their arrival and leave from the school premises. New security cameras will be set up immediately, and every student caught out of line shall be suspended.’

    The students groan grew louder, but the bell abruptly cuts through their protest.

    ‘Oh my, is it that time already?’ Mrs. Goodwill said, smiling as she quickly turned on the class TV

    The students cheered at the logo that showed on the screen, as the speaker blared the age-old jingle of the PURE corporation played as an intro. It was odd seeing the corporation have so much influence around the country, or the globe to be more precise. Amo couldn’t tell if the United Nations was more important than PURE at this point.

    ‘Greetings ladies and gentlemen, skinny and stout!’ The familiar voice echoed through the class, followed along by a moment of cheering by the students watching.

    ‘We are delighted to give you this message as a fellow citizen of Indonesia. I, Joseph Salem, president of PURE shall brief you all on our recent news and achievement.’

    The students slowly settled down, their eyes glued the screen.

    ‘We have made several cleansings in rural areas and have executed over 5.000 witches around the country as of this month. We have also made several arrest and apprehension regarding high-class witches and mages.’

    The students soon clapped and cheered, but immediately sorted themselves as they quickly realized that there was more to say.

    ‘Ah, it appears that we’ve come to the end of our time. And remember, if you see anything wicked, just call PURE.’

    Mrs. Goodwill carried on, and turned off the class TV, letting her students have their moment of groaning and complaining before she loudly slapped the desk with her hands; prompting the class to get in order.

    ‘Dismissed!’

    The cold water hit Amo like a bag of nails, she impulsively shivered at the cold temperature, quickly turning off the sink as she tries to get her mind off things. She whipped away her wet face with her handkerchief, not caring that it still had traces of the pink quartz. Though the blue powder she had used seemed to clean off relatively easy after she used it, though it was partially caused by the lighter components; as crushed Iris blooms dust of fairly easy compared to a crystal.

    She looked at her reflection, bearing witness to the pale cobalt haired girl reflected in the mirror, the overpowering smell of Iris bloom suffocating her thoughts. A migraine had been boiling inside her head since this morning but seeing how much it took a toll on her face only made it worse. People may have suspected that something was wrong, which is never good news.

    She rubbed off the remaining blue haze in her eyes, making sure for one last time that the bathroom was still empty. She wonders if people had seen the pink haze in her eyes after she hopped out of the bus, she’ll get to that later; as of now, she had majorly overexerted herself.

    ‘Using projection magic in the bathroom? How scandalous!’

    Amo had nearly screamed at the voice behind her but quickly sighed in relief as she smelled the distinct aroma of strawberry.

    ‘You really need to stop sneaking on me like that, Inca.’

    ‘Oh, but your flustered face always brings me a bundle of joy.’

    Amo chuckled, welcoming the warm presence of the rouge haired girl; as it was indeed one of the last warm things in her life. She was an odd presence of a girl; her curly voice and flirty attitude were not exclusive to just Amo. Yet it was apparent that the older girl was more comfortable with the charm caster.

    Inca traced her fingers along the bottom of her eyes, getting rid of the excess trace of the blue powder that the cobalt haired girl had missed. The rouge haired girl shook her head, calmly giggling to herself. Amo looked into her eyes, noticing that her usual jet-black iris had slightly changed in hue.

    ‘Oh, how I wonder how little bunnies like you still live in this horrid world.’

    Amo simply smiled, not knowing what to answer as she watched the slender girl sat herself down on the bathroom counter. Her shapely figure and dyed hair highlighted beautifully by the white bathroom light. 

    ‘So, how many times have you used magic today, my dearest Amo?’

    ‘Twice,’ The younger girl gingerly responded.

    ‘And how many times have you used magic last night?’

    Amo paused. Wrong answer.

    Inca chuckled under her breath, her slender figure slowly stepping down from the bathroom counter. Her dark eyes slowly glowing into a bronze hue, mixing together with her slightly off-colored iris. She chuckled as Amo slowly tried to open her mouth, knowing what was about to happen. But, as always, Inca was the faster spellcaster.

    ‘Alliges duplicate.’

    And in an instant, Amo's body froze into place. Every part of her body forced into a halt, she was now on a tightrope. She could not move, she could speak, she could not blink, and she certainly could not breathe.

    ‘You know I care for you, darling, but you must not overexert yourself. Not for you, not for me, and certainly not for others,’ The girl advised, ‘You do know you’re quite vulnerable.’

    There was a moment of pause, as Inca slowly covered her hands over her nose, giving her the ability to breathe. Amo looked at herself from the mirror, visibly red from the inability to breathe.

    ‘Honey…Promise me you won't use any more magic, not until this subsides.’

    There was another pause, this time Inca had grabbed her neck, giving back Amo's voice. Amo’s gag reflex quickly kicked in, and she tries her best to stifle her urge to cough and vomit. She tries her best to maintain a neutral voice.

    ‘Promise?’

    ‘...You're really worried about this, aren't you?’

    Inca’s usual rosy face quickly turned that of worry and anxiousness. Her sweet smile no longer plastered on her face; and despite Amo’s current inability to touch her, she could somehow feel the pulse-pounding inside the rouge haired girl’s heart.

    ‘Solvite.’

    And with that, Amo was able to move again. Inca sighs, the placed herself on top of the bathroom counter, her fingers anxiously fidgeting on her lap. Her eyes instantly faded back to their slightly off-black hue, and now only silence lingers in the air. Inca shivered in the claustrophobic room, a small sigh of anxiety leaps out of her mouth. Tersely, her now black eyes flicker to the cobalt haired girl in front of her that just minutes ago had been a hum of excitement and exhilaration, but now seemed to wither with age.

    ‘No magic,’ She repeated one more time.

    ‘No magic,’ Amo said back.

    Amo stood in silence, observing the other girl. It was not rare for Inca to use magic on her, but to use one as a warning was a new experience to her. Something had really been f****d this time.

    ‘You were too close to the scene,’ Inca said, breaking the silence between them.

    ‘How so?’

    Inca did not reply. She simply smiled, her lips biting the emotions inside her. Amo couldn’t help but stare at the girl, observing the slight tension in Inca’s shoulder. She seemed to be boiling from the inside out.

    ‘Why would I be with him?’ Amo quickly questions, only to realize the answer as she asked.

    Inca chuckled, but her laughter no longer matches her eyes. A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of her lips, her mouth formed a rigid grimace. With arms folded tightly across her chest, she swings her feet above the floor. She smiled one more time as if to fight back whatever vile mix of emotions she was experiencing. She knew what Amo did.

    Amo scrunched her shirt, apologetic. She stepped away from the bathroom counter as to give space for Inca. Inca swings her legs up, sitting them upright by the counter; politely declining Amo’s offer to come down.

    ‘Where were you, last night?’

    Amo stared for a moment, before quickly replying, ‘Central Jakarta, heading uptown.’

    ‘Going home?’

    ‘Right. Why are we talking about this?’

    There was a pause. Amo recoiled a bit, she felt as if she just missed something.

    ‘Look, there’s no way it was me!’ She quickly said.

    ‘I’m not saying it’s you,’ Inca calmly said, instantly adding before Amo could retaliate any further, ‘We both know the province needs to get to the bottom of this. I need to know who or what was with him last night.’

    ‘Wait a second, I-’

    ‘There was no way they ratted him out by chance.’

    Amo’s heart sank.

    ‘He wasn’t the type to get careless,’ Inca remarked, the echo in her voice dropping like dead weight.

    ‘You really think-’

    ‘There is a high possibility.’

    Like hail on a glass pane, the drumming of Amo’s fingers was as relentless as it was rough, as it was hurting her thighs. Each touch of her fidgeting fingers on her skirt resonated with the unbridled thudding of her heartbeat. Her face, rigid with tension, as she tried to break the silence; though nothing does ever come out of her mouth once she’s reached this state.

    ‘We’ll take care of this, after school.’

    ‘And what should we do in the meantime?’

    Inca hummed, ‘That projection magic you just did…You were trying to spy at your class, right?’

    ‘I didn’t want to be there, but I was still curious about what they’d say,’ Amo briefly explained, her voice slightly apologetic.

    ‘I understand.’

    ‘They didn’t say anything about another person if that’s what you were wondering.’

    ‘…Right.’

    The conversation quickly died, and Amo awkwardly excused herself to get back to class. Inca said nothing but didn’t follow her outside the bathroom; saying that she didn’t want to waste the last few minutes left of the illusion magic she had concealed the bathroom with.

    ‘Ah, Miss Nilo,’ The teacher loudly greeted, her slightly croaky voice prompting the girl to shiver in disgust.

        ‘Why hello there Mrs. Moonfall,’ Inca greeted warmly, ‘According to the school schedule, your class was not to start until the next five minutes.’

    The class begins to chatter and cheer, watching the oncoming banter between the two women, as it was a tradition at this point. Mrs. Moonfall orders the class to settle down, her voice loud and cracked due to her having shout ever so frequently, and with that, the class only became louder. Inca quickly scanned her eyes through the room, searching for a reflective surface to check if her iris had faded back to their natural jet-black color.

    ‘You know, with someone with the last name such as yourself, I expect a bit more respectable,’ Mrs. Goodwill continued, ignoring the rest of the class.

    ‘Oh? And wouldn’t someone with your last name understands how time constraint works?’

    The old woman clicked her tongue. ‘None of that posh chit chat and backhand comment of yours will save you, Miss Nilo.’

    ‘Honey, you were the one who decided to start early,’ Inca calmly countered, ‘Trust me, neither of us wants to go down this road.’

    Inca wasted no time to head to where she usually seats, but she was abruptly stopped by a pale wrinkly hand, holding quite tightly onto her rouge colored hair.

    ‘I see you’ve dyed your hair again,’ The old woman remarked, ‘You do realize that it’s against school rules. Now, it doesn’t help either that you missed homeroom.’

    Inca calmly slaps the woman’s hand off her hair.

    ‘And you dare say that you didn’t just dye your hair three days ago?’ Inca swiftly remarked, ‘You aren’t fooling anyone with that cheap Miranda Hair Dye, my dear.’

    ‘Why you little-’

    ‘And besides, I got a pass to go to the bathroom,’ She quickly cuts off, producing a small white slip of paper from her skirt pocket.

    Mrs. Moonfall quickly yanks the paper away from her hand, placing the paper mere centimeters away from her eyes to observe it. She turned the paper once, twice, and a final third turn before begrudgingly letting the rouge haired girl pass and get to her seat.

    Somewhere in the corner, a pale boy with thick round glasses attentively adds another stroke to his notebook; one stroke in Inca’s column. A group of students quickly surrounded him and began passing him various amounts of money, while another group of students quickly cheered among themselves with pride. It was quite a miracle that the boy has not been suspended.

    Inca swiftly walked through the crowding students, sitting next to the boy. The crowd quickly sorted themselves out to their own seats, leaving the two alone.

    ‘How much did you gain?’ Inca slyly whispered.

    ‘I told you, I’m just the bookkeeper.’

    ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night.’

    The boy sighs, loudly closing his book. Inca seemed unbothered; though her slightly awkward position, sitting a bit too upright by her desk, tells the boy that she doesn’t want to talk about her findings.

    ‘Look, did you talk to her yet?’

    ‘Of course, my little bunny,’ Inca whispered back, the tone of her voice testing a fine line between comforting and taunting, ‘Why would you ever doubt me?’

    ‘Stop calling me that,’ The boy quickly protested, now feeling slightly annoyed as he noticed their difference in height.

    ‘Fine then…Vincent.’

    ‘Thank you!’ He sighed, realizing that he may have said the phrase a bit too loud.

    ‘So, what should we do?’

    ‘For now, we wait,’ The boy whispered, seemingly quite disappointed with himself.

    The two teens turned their eyes to the dirty whiteboard ahead, keeping track of their notes and what’s happening between their conversations. The other students had slowly killed off their conversation, focusing more of their energy to take the abundant notes Mrs. Moonfall had been writing on the whiteboard. It was a quick recap of the material for the final examination, though that wasn’t important now; not for them by the very least.

    It went on for a couple of minutes, just them following along the whole class, listening to Mrs. Goodwill brag about herself being a native English speaker while she writes some more notes about English grammar on the whiteboard. Vincent took a quick look around the class, his skimpy arms slowly nudging on Inca’s shoulders.

    Inca pre-emptively sighs, then quietly groaned, ‘What?’

    ‘Was she with him?’ Vincent whispered.

    ‘She was at the same location, but-’

    ‘She was heading opposite,’ He quickly finished.

    ‘…Yes.’

    Vincent sighed, dropping his pen for a moment to palm his pale face. He groans for a moment, making sure he wasn’t doing it too loud as to attract any unwanted attention. He could feel Inca’s gaze on the side of his head, piercing into his skull. None of them knew what to say, that, he knew for sure.

    ‘You’re worried she’d get killed along with him,’ He deduced.

    ‘It was close! She was minutes away from-’

    Vincent quickly out his hand over her mouth, stumbling a bit due to the distance between their desks. Mrs. Moonfall had turned around for a second, but by that time, they had already sorted themselves out.

    The two teens made no interaction for a few minutes, making absolutely certain no one is eavesdropping. Inca would’ve coated the room with illusion magic if Mrs. Moonfall hadn’t decided to start class early. But before she could regret any further, she could already feel Vincent’s burning gaze from her left.

    ‘Look, you’re focusing on the wrong topic!’ The boy barked, attracting the attention of nearby students.

He slowly lowers his voice, sensing everyone’s gaze like a knife on his back. He subtly looked at Inca, her expression riddled with confusion. He sighs, and slowly recollects his composure, but dear stars were it hard for him not to scream on top of his lungs.

    ‘What in the seven hells are you on about?’

    ‘You’d a spy would follow the target head-on? She’d have to gain a bit of distance to gain alibi!’

    ‘What?’

    ‘She ratted him,’ He quietly said, picking his pen back up.

    ‘Don’t accuse her just yet,’ Inca warns, biting her tongue from saying any further.

    ‘Who else could it have been!?’

    ‘Not now, Vincent.’

    ‘How would you know?’

    ‘I knew she was spying on him, but it wasn’t for-’

    ‘So, you admit it.’

    ‘No, I’m not-’

    ‘Our friend just got killed!’ Vincent barked back, silencing himself as soon as he realized the volume in his voice.

    Inca’s glare expeditiously sucked everything out of him. He visibly wilted before the rouge haired girl opened her mouth. For such a frail girl, childish in dimensions and stature, her glare always manages to catch him off-guard; those unmoving, unblinking eyes never fail to capture and nail the message on whoever needed the warning. It felt like an act of violence.

    And with that, Vincent carried on with his notes; not saying a word to the rouge haired girl. And for a brief frame in time, the storm rested in two cheaply made classroom chairs.