The Onyx

It was one of those dreary winter days, the air damp with humidity. Streets wrapped in snow. Almost a foot deep, leaving behind traces of life as people huddled across. Rushing towards their destination, incapable of coping with the unsympathetic nature. The tallest buildings, the greatest creations of mankind seemed to be at mercy at that moment. The wind blew, harsh and high. Rattling against the window panes as if trying to sneak in. Fogging it of its clarity. Creeping into the room of the only window left ajar. It slammed against the dark wooden shelves, fluttering the papers lightly under the glass paperweight. But it did not seem to bother the young man who was sitting at his work table with parts of some machine. His hands moved fairly fast as if he had done it time and time again. Other than a faint crackling and of metal scrapping together, he made no sound. His black eyebrows quirked when he came across a hard wall. And eased when he knew his way around it. The quiet breeze made his cheeks pale. A knock on the door interrupted him. With a smooth click, the door opened. "Mr. Adair." The 60-year-old man paused as a sudden chill ran through his spine. The room was too cold to comfort a man of his age. "The car is waiting for you downstairs." The man informed while the boy finally raised his head. His dark grey eyes narrowed at the familiar old man in a dark blue suit for a moment. The gears in his brain moved trying to remember the purpose of his visit. It was today. He realized averting his eyes back to the desk. A few strands of his black hair that were tucked back neatly, fell on his forehead at the sudden moment. He thought it over. For about a million times, every single day since it was decided. Had it been enough, he wouldn't be sitting in his creaky chair assembling a robotic vacuum cleaner. "Excuse me for a moment, I'll come down after I change." He spoke fairly politely. It did not seem right to meet his guardian wearing a pair of black slacks and a blue vest. He didn't know how his first impression went. He was too young to know. But he was thankful for all the years of support he had received. The debt of gratitude is too deep to show carelessness. Astonished at the choice of outfit on such a day, the old man just nodded his head. His forehead wrinkled in a frown when he observed the boy's pale cheeks. "Mr. Adair, if I may, I suggest closing the window on days like these. There is a high chance of developing hypothermia." The old man spoke out of kindness which made Lyn feel out of place. His skills of human interactions were impeccable to a degree yet today he couldn't be himself. "Thank you... Mr...?" He trailed off while the old man smiled at him. "You can call me Louis, sir." He spoke while Lyn smiled. "Thank you, Mr. Louis. I'll keep that in mind." Lyn said with a small smile. Louis returned his smile and excused himself informing him that he would wait in the car. Lyn finally had the room to himself again. Keeping his half-finished robotic vacuum aside safely, he stood up stretching his hands as the chair creaked loudly at the sudden moment. He needed to deliver the vacuum to Mrs. Morris tomorrow. With the half-finished product at hand, it was no big deal. He looked at the grandfather clock. The only vintage element in the entire room. It had a dull golden exterior with wood on the sides and the hands of the clock appeared delicate and thin. The pendulum had a unique Anchor structure at the bottom and a vine creeping to the top. He found it by mere coincidence. It had been a peculiar shop he remembered. As if it appeared out of nowhere. And it had just been a day or two since he bought it. He wanted to open it up immediately and look into its delicate design. But the clock was made in a way that after opening it, even if he puts it together it will be rough-edged. He didn't want that. It works perfectly fine surprisingly. Chiming twice every hour. As if realizing he was lost in his world again, Lyn shook his head. It was already quarter to four, he paused at the bay window looking at the road. Barely recognized the people down there when a familiar person caught his eye. He looked at him as he walked past the streets, his hand holding a book. Lyn chuckled sarcastically when he saw him avoid touching people. He rolled his eyes, gently shutting the window which creaked due to the ice that formed on the wedges. He would take care of it when he gets back. No burglar in the right mind would climb 5 floors to get in from his window. Lyn chuckled at the thought. He went towards the wooden shelf. Opening the first drawer from the lower part, he reached out to take some of his outfits. Finally deciding on wearing a semi-formal outfit, Lyn looked at the mirror for one last time. This was him. Clad in a black buttoned-up shirt and light blue pants. He wasn't someone to wear a luxurious tux. It felt out of place. Nor can he wear his usual hoodie as he does when he's with his friends. He was thankful for sure, but he knew he was not meant for that world at the same time nor for this world. He was different from others. Different in a way he can never explain. Heaving a sigh, he looked at the clock through the mirror. One minute to four. And the clock chimed. He felt the hair on his neck rise in fear at the hooded man that appeared behind him abruptly. Before he could even comprehend, he felt a force knock him out. "Found you-" His vision darkened as he fell back. That day the clock chimed thrice instead of twice. •~•~•