Hunt Down Rose

Chapter 7: Day Break (Part III)

“Do you think I’ll believe that?”

“What choice do you have, we have, and they have.”

“Everyone has a choice - it’s just a matter of time and consciousness to make one.”

“Then what is that choice? There should be no reason for you to chase something you already know the answer for am I right?”

“I know the answer, I only lack justification for my answer.”

“Then do you have the justification to prove that you are not the apple?”

With his responses, it gives me the idea that he’s pushing me on a pace where I can smash everything that I can see, testing my patience on a certain level if I may describe.

“You know where this is going nowhere,” I told him loosening up a bit of my stress by moving a bit off my legs.

“That’s precisely what I would like to say to you throughout these years.”

In that precise line of his, my blood started to boil, charged at him, and held him on his chest ready to hit him with my fist.

He calmly looked at me and spoke. “You know what I mean right? That all these years you’ve been searching for the truth so badly, you can’t seem to grasp a little bit of who you could really be. Your self-justification has taken most of your rationality towards understanding human emotions. We both know that is what distinguishes us from other creatures. You denied it the same way you denied your friend Elise her chance to be with you. Now you claim that you have the ability to prove that you are something apart from what I told you?! Do you really understand what it means to live? Or do you let yourself be a puppet for a cause just like little old me!” I’m the one pinning him down… However, it feels like I’m the one getting cornered just by listening to his word.

“I get it. The apple represents my memories, and the harvester is not just me, but it includes everyone involved in my doing. Your existence as the ladder only means that even other people could use you depending on the situation given to us.”

“Yes indeed. So who owns the ladder?”

“Me”

“Then there goes your answer, Thomas. Our relationship is quite intimate because I am you, and you are me even though our purposes are different. At the end of the day, we can only rely on those people who could save us, use us to search the truth of this madness...”

“All of the synthetic memories that had been placed inside me must’ve taken me over perhaps including you. If what we said is true, then it only means that some of these memories could be lies.”

“Do you have the evidence to explain that?” He asked.

“Should I even have one for you?”

“Everything will soon be clear to you even your potential if you would only allow yourself to understand the future rather than live from the same old guilt that imprisoned you from the past.”

“Do you think it’s that easy? For someone who existed only inside my head, you seem to talk a lot.”

“It’s because I know more than you do.”

“The fact does still remain that my sub-consciousness still owns this world. But that doesn’t change everything am I correct?”

“Of course it doesn’t. This is your world; you shouldn’t be wondering why it’s locked and somewhat empty. When did you last have someone know the real you from the beginning? Wait the question should be - do you even know yourself?”

What was I after in the first place? In this futile world, someone needs ideals to push him forward. For me, my goals push me in the direction that I want to go, with the help of some people.

“I’ll take my chances.”

“I hope you wouldn’t mind letting go of me. My suit costs a fortune even if it’s just a dream.”

“I hope I forget everything about the apples,” I said to him letting go of his clothes, clenching at the key I have inside my pocket.

Then I suddenly remembered something important worth of question.

“How can I open these doors anyway?” I asked assuming that I’ll get a clear answer without any conflict.

From his response, he smiled for a bit, looking at me sharply like a hawk.

“If you want to know how, why don’t you try going inside the first door?”

“I guess I should.” Agreeing to his suggestion I found the key back inside the palm of my hand.

I kept it inside my pocket and went inside the door to see the difference in every detail compared to the dream that I had earlier.

The atmosphere converted itself similar to that of the dream of a small boy, with me looking at the scene in four dimensions.

“What you see now could also be felt by your very own hands,” Grimnoir told me with his voice speaking inside my head.

Doing what he just said, I started touching the trees and the grass on the field. I was amused to see that everything seems so tangible to my senses, even the rain and the moisture of the soil is real.

“Now I want you to go to the mansion right now.”

“Why should I?” I asked him.

“It’s because this scene is far different from what you have on your so-called dream.”

“Different? In what way?”

“Go inside and see for yourself.”

Without a moment to lose, I ran towards the mansion looking at the windows first. Looking closely at the other side, I don’t see the family in the living room. Instead, there’s a bunch of toys lying on the carpet with the fireplace lit. I walked through the door and saw the same place in my dream.

“Now I want you to find something that would help you recall a few things in the present.” He said to me hearing his teacup clinking.

From this pile of toys and weird things, I started digging everything checking each object that I am familiar with. Stuff toys, telephones, CDs, cassette tapes, and antiques are lined up on my sight.

Noticing that there are no objects that caught my interest, I began to look on drawers and shelves to look for anything useful in the living room. Then I saw an odd-looking painting just above the television set. I quickly removed it and checked what’s at the back, and saw a vault with a keyhole in it.

“Why don’t you try and use the key that you have.”

Pulling the key out of my pocket, was about to put it inside the keyhole when suddenly the vault opened wide. I got a little closer to see what’s inside and I was bothered to see a picture of a little boy in a white shirt having a scar on his neck. The initials “A.C.” can be seen on the right side with a few of its edges burned

For a moment, I started to hear the sound of the grandfather clock ticking with only a few seconds before it hits 12 o clock of the afternoon.

“Wait for the time to be right.”

5*4*3*2*1*

*Clag, Clang, Clang!*

The sound of the Clock rampantly entered my head while I kept the picture tight into my hands. My memory started to focus on a certain file about one of the members of Mr. Yun’s group.

Looking at the picture, my subconscious started continuing the initials on the picture.

“Arcadius Cortez?” It must be the name of the child in the picture.

My vision started fading for a moment and before I knew it; I was back on the room again with Grimnoir in his same old spot drinking tea as usual.

(To Be Continued)