1775 Words
ELLIOTT Mr Morgan's cabin was too brown to fit in any other colours. The room was filled with the smell of books and ink. The chair creaked every time Elliott moved. He looked over to the principal's desk, the globe's ball was broken and kept beside the stand, files were stacked up to make a house-like structure and the board game of checkers was carved into the table itself. Elliott understood that for someone to pass his time, he sure had creative methods. Mr Morgan never left his cabin, but when he did, they were doomed. He was too dangerous to be left wandering in the school corridors. After a brief moment, the door swung open and a tall man in his ironical brown suit and a short stubble entered the room. He had a habit of clearing his throat loudly now and then to make his presence felt. "Ah, Mr Walters, so glad you could make some time for me," he said, walking to his chair. His sarcasm was very specifically clear. "Is there anything I can help you with?" Elliott answered, feeling a little threatened under his gaze. Mr Morgan started chuckling. "Help? No no. Rather, I want your help," he said. Elliott kept a straight face, waiting for him to continue speaking. "Where were you that day?" "Which day?" "The day the school almost burned down," Mr Morgan's smile grew wider. His smile was the kind, a hunter, who has found their prey... Has. "I came to school. I was running late that day... so when I entered, the incidents had already started. I ran away," Elliott kept his voice calm and his gaze focused. "Incident, you say?" He nodded his head and looked down at the blue file he had picked up. "It sure sounds unnatural but doesn't mean no one can cause this." "That's.. for sure, sir." Mr Morgan got off his chair and tapped his fingers on the table a few times. Then he turned around and ran a hand through a huge vintage wooden rifle that was hung up on the wall. Elliott wondered why no one ever complained about it. "I was into shooting back in my days. Actually, I was great at it. I did archery, surfing, trekking, and I also collaborated with the police and helped them solve some cases. It's all my IQ. You see all of these trophies, right?" He pointed at the shelf nearby. Elliott looked at it to find 3 dusty trophies sitting on top. Two were earned by the school football team, and the third was earned by an exchange student who wasn't allowed to take the trophy home. Elliott nodded. "So, it isn't too easy to fool me. As you know how kids these days think," he leaned in slightly and Elliott faltered for a second. "I understand, sir." He said. "I've run some background checks on you, Elliott." Mr Morgan finally confessed as he placed himself back on his chair, staring at Elliott's concerned face. "And I've heard quite some things about you." "I don't know why you heard that, sir." He tried looking unbothered but he wasn't very good at hiding what he thought. "But I did. You sneak around quite a lot, keep a low profile, and don't bother much with school activities," he said with a cold gaze. He surely knew something. "Overall, you stand out a lot." Elliott's eyes snap open to meet Mr Morgan's smile. Their stare-off went on for a while before Elliott looked away. "I'll let you go now. But come meet me often. Let's solve this "incident" together," Mr Morgan's scornful smile wasn't easy to go unnoticed. Elliott felt himself withdrawing back, not sure if he could get away with it unscathed. "Thank you, sir." He said before he walked out of the room quietly. ~ "I don't understand why she sent you this if you found nothing inside," George said, pacing back and forth inside the basement. "She's a shaman too. Meredith must've sent this for a reason," Gabrielle replied, holding the black book up. A stare-off started between the two of them. "Put the book aside and work on something real. Like finding Phoenix's origin or something," he said, a little irritated. Their riffraff was quite common any time they were around each other. "I'm already working, you dying owl. You're the one who's prancing around," Gabrielle shot back, irritated as well. "What did you just say, you old hag?" George wasn't one to just take the blow. "Ah, stop! It's too early to deal with you two. Just retire already," Jack said as he lay on the couch, tossing and turning. Things settled down and they went their ways. A few minutes pass by. Elliott sat, his eyes focused on the black book. Fred was tending to Garry, he had been taking care of him all the time and Garry was finally able to walk properly. Even if he was limping. "Does it hurt?" Fred asked while he tried straightening Garry's legs outwards. "No, but it.. stings?" He said, twitching. "Be specific, i***t," Fred rolled his eyes as he watched Garry chuckle. Elliott smiled at them, he felt good to see Fred being vulnerable for a change. "Can I?" George asked, pointing to the black book. Gabrielle was about to tell him but decided otherwise. "Go ahead," she said. He picked up the book and started skipping through the pages fast. It was logical that he wouldn't understand the content inside but he wore a frown. After he was done with the pages, he flipped the book and started running his fingers on the hardcover. His hand paused as he touched the inward side of the cover. Then he gently set the book down and started tearing off the top layer. "Wait! You old-", Gabrielle stopped abruptly. When the top layer was torn off, a silver key slid out of the cover. It had a yellowish paper stuck to it. Gabrielle picked it up and examined it with George looked down at her with a proud gaze. "71 Swain Street," she read out. Meredith wanted them to go here, another expedition. Elliott ran a hand through his hair, his head buried with questions. Even if everything was right in front of him, he was helpless. He couldn't do anything on his own and it was too early to tell his people about her. "You're not as useless, whatsoever," Gabrielle muttered, looking disappointed. "You haven't even seen the half of it," George was quick to reply. ~ Heavy footsteps on the mud, splashes of water and the worn-out voices of people. Elliott stood hidden behind the bushes as he observed the policemen and workers work together. They were reaching under the pond and fishing out people. It was just like Asami said, but twice as chilling. The people came out of the pond in pieces and were being laid out like puzzles. The water had been covered with algae but once people entered it, they realised the water was deep red and was hollow enough to look neverending. Elliott had called up the police and told them about the dead bodies in the swamp, acting as if he had accidentally found them, from an unknown number. Then he had taken shelter behind the bushes, watching the horrific scene unfold in front of his eyes. There were no other people around except the policemen, workers and Elliott because that area was abandoned. The people winced at the corpses and gasped, mourning at how they ended up. Dumped ruthlessly in a swamp. Can someone's fate be worse off than that? "Condolences to the dead," a shrill but quiet voice sounded from beside Elliott. He looked over to his side to see her, sitting with her hands wrapped around her knees. She looked the same, Elliott didn't know if it was a good thing or bad. "You don't deserve to be here," Elliott muttered, quietly. He had to keep an eye out for the people to not get caught. Asami let out a small chuckle. "Do you want to know why I do it?" She said, her voice settling down low. Elliott shook his head, he understood what he was getting into. "No," he replied, firmly. "Why?" "Because I don't want you to try and make me feel guilty for you," he said. He tried to move away from her gaze but the dried leaves started rustling under his feet. He froze. "Don't you trust yourself?" She asked, her voice hinting at a smirk. "You find this funny, don't you? Killing people, torturing them, messing with their heads?" His gaze was cold on her. She stared back at him with a laid-back gaze that irked Elliott. "I like it with you," Asami said, like the words just rolled out of her mouth, no filters. "That's why I'm here." Elliott let out a bitter laugh and looked back ahead. He tried to calm his nerves, to avoid her expectant eyes waiting for something he had no intention of doing. He didn't know where he could run away without her following. "Why do you think I'm doing this?" She asked. Her gaze burned his skin. "You're barbaric," Elliott replied quickly, looking in front of his as yet another new part was laid out for a human puzzle from the pond. The three people who were already taken out lay on the muddy ground. Their faces were hardly recognisable. "I don't want to hear it from you," Elliott said, sighing. He wanted to yell at her, be furious for her deeds but he knew she wouldn't care. She'd just stare at him with her emotionless eyes and he'd tire himself out for nothing. "What?" She said. "I don't wanna hear how much fun you have doing all of this," his voice was quieter than before. "I'm doing all of this for fun?" She asked. Elliott glanced at her and nodded his head. She had a small smile on her face and her eyes showed nothing. But she was silent like she didn't have words to say. "You're right," she said, looking back ahead. Elliott looked away. The workers did their work. It looked like it was going to go on all night. They still had a long way to go, Elliott thought. "Come with me," Asami whispered, turning back and walking away. "Can't," Elliott said, decisively. But that decision didn't last long. As he watched Asami walking farther away, not waiting for him, he sprang up to his feet and started following her. Contradicting his own words. "Where?" Elliott called out. "Home," she said.
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