Ring of Circle

III. Weird.

Dodome Hill...

07:39

"That's it," James announced as they reached a taped-off area in Dodome Hill . Max had insisted on going back to check out the landing site where all his mystery started.

"You were kneeling right in the middle of the crater," James said, pointing to the spot the meteor - or whatever fell - landed.

"You were kind of unconscious, so we had to drag you to the car," Cecilia said, feeling a bit guilty at the remembrance of the crude way she and James dragged him to the car.

"With a rope." James said, grinning mischievously at the memory; "and a grappling hook. Actually, it was a bit tricky to get you hooked up since we could... Aw!" Cecilia jabbed his rib a bit hard, shutting him up.

"Okay okay chill," Max said, finally taking in the information. "So a ring fell off the sky and somehow found its way into my finger..."

"Like Green Lantern." James interrupted, and he got another jab in the rib from Cecilia;

"Aw!...okay, fine. Sorry." He said after looking at Cecilia's dead serious face.

"...and then I got all Star Trek." Max said. "I think my next course of action is to do a CT scan."

"Probably, I might need it too," James said.

"Or maybe not," Cecilia interjected, "or else you guys want to have an appointment with a psychiatrist once a week for six months clad in aprons."

"You mean hospital gowns." James corrected.

"Yes, and there are nothing more than aprons, dang it." James raised his hands in surrender, he knows how personally she takes the subject of hospital attire.

"We just have to keep this to ourselves and try to figure it out," Cecilia said softly, laying a hand on Max's shoulder.

"Hey, look on the bright side," James said, cheerfully taking a few steps forward with his arms outstretched beside him, "now we have our very own mystery to solve after all the idleness. And besides, you've got yourself a super ring."

"Indeed, brother," Max said with a small smile. He subconsciously tapped the ring in his pocket; "Just don't call it a super ring."

>>>

"MAX!" The Coach called a halt to the training, "What is wrong with you!" He yelled at Max even before he got close.

Max on the other hand has no sane answer for that question. He hasn't been feeling like himself since they came back from Mpape.

He has been feeling the fear of death as though it is any other emotion, he has tried to justify it as nothing more than paranoia, but even he knows it is not.

"There is no place for fatigue or sulkiness on the football pitch." Coach Toby complained, "You hear me, kid? If you don't think you are worthy of being in my club and can play the ball like someone who has bones in their legs, go join the community youth forum or something." Max could hear Coach Toby in his head, "Now get back in there and play like you mean it, or do us all a favor, and get out of here!"

"Yes sir!" Max forced and headed back into training, trying his best not to slack.

The next hour and a half felt like an eternity for Max; over-concentrating and not concentrating at all, all he could think of was the feeling of death all over his soul.

Then Coach Toby ended the training earlier than normal for a reason only he knows but Max couldn't be more grateful.

"You suck out there," Cecilia said as soon as Max exited the pitch. Football practice is a daily morning routine for Max and James. They had joined in just for the fun of it less than two years ago and they both have grown to like it.

Max is a good player and James is a good goalkeeper, Coach Toby had tried to talk them into considering a state club but neither was ready for such commitment so they stuck with the local football team.

"Yeah Max, you weren't yourself on the pitch, what is going on?" James joined in as Max packed his training gear. "John is going to rub this all over your face like peanut butter on coconut bread ."

"I don't know guys, I just need some sleep I guess," Max said as he finished packing his gym bag he slung it over his shoulder and walked away from his baffled friends.

"Max," Cecilia called, rushing to meet up. "Are you okay? Is this about last night? Do you need to be checked out?" Cecilia asked all at once without losing a breath.

"No, I'm...I'm fine," Max said with a wince.

"You sound wounded," James said from behind trying to catch up with the two.

"I am not, I have just been feeling weird after...you know," Max said before Cecilia started feeling him for injuries. "I will call you guys later, I am going home," Max said, leaving his friends behind.

"Are you going to walk home?" James asked with a confused frown.

"Yes, it's not that far," Max said, leaving James and Cecilia frowning at his weirdness.

"Do you think Max is acting weird?" Cecilia asked.

"Do I think...are you even listening to yourself, the guy is gloomy, indecisive, and depressed yet you ask if he is weird?" James said in his infamous annoying inquisitive tone.

"Come on, let's get out of here." He walked towards Cecilia's Blue Kia stinger, leaving her breathing in and out in an attempt to remain calm.

"The Lord is my strength." She murmured before following James. "I swear I will kill this dumbass someday."

><

Port Harcourt Gardens, Max's apartment.

12:36

Max got home even more unfocused than before. He practically dragged his feet in and up the stairs. The anxiety was killing him, the paranoia was at its peak, and Max could literally feel death lurking around.

And that is not even the weirdest part, the ring he had found after the meteor thing is the weirdest part.

When Cecilia had made the one-in-a-blue-moon offer to drive them to the School's football pitch for their routine football training; Max had been sure he left the ring at home in his apartment. But right before training started, Max found the Ring sitting perfectly fit on his left index finger letting off an ominous glow.

How the ring came to be on his finger, he has no idea. But it didn't come alone, it came with a powerful wave of inexplicably weird feelings.

First, it was anxiety in its raw form that Max tried to justify with football practice. Then paranoia and an irrational fear of death. Max was unable to concentrate one bit during training, flopping and tripping, kicking the ball like a two-year-old playing for the first time.

He entered his bathroom upstairs, setting the temperature unreasonably low, but then again, Max no longer had an idea what was reasonable.

The cold water splashing his blood-red hair and running down his bare back did help take his mind off the weirdness of the day. But only partially because even now he is being bombarded with an unnecessarily depressing wave of guilt.

The guilt of what? Is the question roaming his mind? Thankfully though, the feeling of death seems to have stopped, but paranoia, anxiety, and guilt are sticking to him like a stigma.

Max exited the shower butt-naked and walked directly to his bed without drying off. He fell on the bed and immediately went to sleep even as he subconsciously dreaded another dream about the monstrous man.