Cross and Conflicts

CHAPTER XII: The Manipulator of Memories

Sister Lita gazed at Noumenon sleeping soundly in a blue gown. She gently held her bruised hand and caressed the silver ring on her forefinger. The circlet is a symbol of her affiliation to the Carmelite sisterhood and her being a bride of God. It’s also supposed to be an assurance of a serene life meant to serve Him.

It’s her third night at the hospital, and though she’s still suffering from the severity of her injuries and won’t be discharged till days later, she seemed to be having a peaceful dream. Her face was like that of an infant’s—unbothered by the external turmoil that surrounded her while she basked in the comfort of her subconscious. The extern sister preferred this over her distraught side. She prayed that she won’t ever have to go through something like this again.

“Don’t worry, Anak. Everything will then be alright.”

Aeon had a quizzical look. “Pardon, Sister.”

“Let me reiterate, lieutenant. I want the Intramuros Police to leave my daughter alone once she’s released.” Sister Lita said. Her tone was firmer than the walls of the corridor they were at. It was already past 9, and they were the only ones there.

“But, Sister, you do know that she’s very much needed for this case. Besides, you need the police to protect—”

“I believe Noumenon has said enough. She has given her account and won’t be of further help to you.”

The lieutenant glanced towards the door of Noumenon’s ward. His two subordinates hadn’t come back yet from grabbing their supper. It was an ease that they weren’t there, for if they were, they’d be obviously curious about their conversation which to him sounded compromising.

“Sister, I understand where you’re coming from, yet her life might still be in danger—”

“Yes, it is. That’s why she needs to get out of this walled city as soon as possible.” Fierce objection was apparent in her eyes, and the lieutenant somehow understood the resolve of a mother who had seen the suffering of her child.

“And you believe that ‘Cross’ won’t be able to track her down once you’re outside Intramuros? She’s a survivor from his killing, and she encountered him face to face.”

“It’s not Cross that I’m worried about.”

He raised a brow.

“You see, lieutenant, she used to live here with her biological family, fourteen years ago. She witnessed the death of her mother at the hands of her own father.”

It didn’t come as much of a shock to Aeon, for he now realized why dreaming of her father made her cry. She is traumatized, and she didn’t want to relive the pain in a dreadful recollection.

“On the contrary….” She looked away. “She doesn’t remember who he is and what he looks like.”

Aeon then thought of “Repression”—a defense mechanism that motivates forgetting or dismissing distressing thoughts or memories that may give rise to anxiety and are left in the unconscious. He felt sorry for the novice, and he deemed that that must have been mentally taxing and grueling.

The extern sister’s succeeding statement, however, quashed his assumption.

“I made her forget him.”

Before he could ask, suddenly, Sister Lita planted her wrinkly fingers on his forehead. He was confused and taken aback. He felt subtle impulses that flowed from her fingertips. He was to swat her hand away when she unveiled her pair of orbs that seemed to be completely overlaid with a translucent gray film. Then, she uttered something that startled him.

“When you were fifteen, you had a fight with a basketball playmate. When you went home, you lied to your parents that your cuts were because you fell down a staircase.”

Baffled, Aeon abruptly retracted from her. As he did, her eyes returned to normal.

“How did you—?” That was a long buried incident which only his late sister knew about. One of the players of the opposing team ridiculed him because he sucked at shooting free throws. He got mad and the game finished with a fistfight. It turned out to be very embarrassing; that’s why he didn’t want to tell his parents about it. Nevertheless, he was stunned how some stranger he had only met yesterday has knowledge about it.

“As you can see, lieutenant, I can access the memories of a person, and I can even manipulate them,” Sister Lita told him.

“What the hell?” was all he could respond.

She never had any intention to tell others about this, especially after she quit being a member of an underground organization that recruited those with divinities. On the other hand, she had to tell the lieutenant in order to convince him.

Mnemokinesis—that is what her divinity is called; she has always been able to tamper with the memories of others. She can change a part of those or make those completely disappear. And whenever she does, it can never be undone.

She didn’t fancy this as much as others did their divinities. Every time she used this, she felt like stealing a part of a person’s humanity. For her, either a bad or good memory is worth remembering because it serves as a completing piece of who an individual is and what he has become. She felt awful as a manipulator—no, as a thief—of memories. Nonetheless, when it came to her adoptive daughter, she felt that it was necessary to intervene.

“When I first adopted Noumenon, she regularly had nightmares and suicidal thoughts. I had to make her forget the person whom she was very afraid of.”

Cynical in nature, Aeon had a part in him that refused to believe what was presented to him—that is before he had to deal with Cross. He grew up bearing the notion that there are humans who are naturally endowed with extraordinary talents. There was nothing unusual about a person who can leap past nine meters or of someone who can run faster than a cheetah or someone who can hold his breath underwater for hours. Those, to him and to the majority of the general public, are nothing to be stupefied about since those are all within the capacity of humans, and that is what makes the species special. Then arrived the peculiar demise of his sister. It was the first time he saw something that’s beyond his logic. He replayed the scene over and over again in his head. Antoinette had no reason to kill herself, and it seemed that she was under some spell that urged her to do so—it appeared more like her mind was controlled to end her life. The master murderer having a supernatural ability, to say the least, is mind-boggling.

Aeon was always present at the crime scenes that allegedly involved Cross; aside from the metallic rosaries he left behind, there were rare instances akin to that of St. Peter the Fisherman Parish. The place was a wreck, and there were associated ghastly deaths.

Furthermore, it’s not improbable that there are others like him who possess unusual abilities similar to the aged extern sister in front of him. At that point, he was intrigued by the mystery that surrounded her.

Who is she? He wondered.

“Like I said, Lieutenant Ginto, please let us leave Intramuros immediately once the doctor permits Noumenon to be discharged. I’ve delved into her memories, and I can testify that she’s told you everything regarding what happened,” Sister Lita said.

“So then, Sister, could you also peep into the memories of the deceased monsignor and his underlings?” He asked. Apparently, he realized that with what she can do, she could be a huge help to their investigation.

“I apologize, lieutenant. My divinity doesn’t work on those whose brains are not active anymore.” It is true, and she didn’t actually need to hide the imperfection of mnemokinesis.

Aeon was somehow disappointed, yet what she said has a point. The police also shouldn’t force their authority over someone who wants to steer clear from a case.

He had no choice but to yield. “Alright, I’ll have to inform my superior officer about this first.”

“Thank you very much for your understanding, lieutenant. I get your concern for her safety, but I assure you that Noumenon will continue to live a quiet and cloistered life as a Carmelite nun.”

“I see.”

He received a satisfied smile, and he watched her walk towards the novice’s room. This is really what a mother is like, and he can relate to how overprotective she is to her child, since his mother is the same. Susan Ginto was actually indignant not to let his son become a policeman. It’s a dangerous job where his life might be at stake. But as he is a stubborn young man, he continued his dream even with her crying during his graduation.

He admired the tenacity of Sister Lita’s assertion as Noumenon’s foster parent. She’s still continuing to shield her, and there’s no way the police must get in the way.

Sister Lita looked back to him. “By the way, there’s one thing that I’d like you to remember, sir.” She looked stolid.

“‘Diamante’ is Noumenon’s real surname.”