The Witch of Jakarta

Chapter 9: Times of Change

    Amo lets herself breathe along with the steady peter of rain on concrete, the pain in her head and bandaged arms slowly fading away as the droplets diffuse the rays of the azure sky. The lights of the waking sky scattered against the wet concrete and faded graffiti of the stretching flyover. Tilting her head back, she lets her cobalt hair flow against what little wind the sky provided—knowing the rest of the world has yet to wake.

    Her mind flies back to her early wake at half-past three, the painful phone call she had to make to alert the rest of the district as she changed her bandages. Deeply regretting falling asleep with the soap-soaked bandages after moping the floor the night before. The fading stars knew that one would wish nothing more than to run in the middle of the empty plane, feeling the mist of sky as she imagined the field it once was. Yet there she was under the flyover, along with nine other people who had grown skittish under what was broadcasted on the news. Her mind has yet to wonder what comes of her preparation for today, the first day of final examination. Instead she stands still, her eyes planted on the soot-haired man who had gathered them all here. 

    ‘Remind me why we’re here again?’ Pinot huffed, his voice echoing dimly against the damp walls of the flyover.

    ‘Because I’m here,’ The pale woman replied, crossing her arms. ‘And if you prefer that your base gets captured along with your greatest asset, then be my guest.’

    It was as if the world had stopped for a moment, every eye in existence venerating what had resurfaced from its sanctuary. The serpent, as the cruel world of the normal regarded it; has lived up to her name. Her hair long, slick, untouched as it rested on the shoulders of her dark chiffon blouse and stretched down to the hem of her long dark pleated skirt. Her skin, pale as ivory as it contrasted the tips of the black batik patterns painted on her skirt. Though it was impossible for the world to stare without her knowing—and as her lips stretched to a smile to greet them, one could only wonder how much power she had kept hidden from the eyes.

    ‘Right before we decide to kill each other,’ Ralph interjected, ‘Amo what the hell happened to you?’

    The cobalt haired girl scratched incredulously at the back of her hair, groaning, ‘I didn’t get enough sleep.’

    ‘Oh, did you now?’ The man scathed, gesturing towards his bandages.

    ‘Hey, I covered your a*s when they decided to air your face across the news!’

    The man clicked his tongue, but said nothing more as he enchanted the tiny nook of the flyover. His eyes glowed a weak ivory hue as the air that surrounds them swirled and weaved into intricate ivory-coloured patterns. The surroundings outside the magic’s reach warped into a dark and blurry plane, before quickly turning back into the concrete jungle it once was. A sign the spell had properly concealed their whereabouts.

    The group stepped closer, just enough to cut out the work for the injured man. Though they wouldn’t dare help him, knowing it would destroy what little self-respect he had. However, the discomfiting air still sits heavy in the dark nook of the flyover. The hunched man stands unnerved in front of Ralph, waiting for the man to say something.

    ‘So, is anyone gonna talk about what happened last night?’

    ‘I kept the serpent hidden, I did what I must,’ Ralph interjected.

    The man scoffed, ‘She helped you.’

    ‘He’s right,’ Sarah quickly added, ‘You jeopardized the district’s confidentiality, and got your name and face on the radar.’

    ‘It was a risk I had to take.’

    ‘You missed killing the leader of the group!’

    The serpent hissed at the quarrel. ‘What’s done is done, this isn’t the time for discretion.’

    ‘So, what is this then?’ The hunched man barked.

    The pattern slowly disappeared, and the man’s uninjured hand had already made its way to grip the roots of his hair. But he quickly let’s go of his hair, a peek of his bandages showing through is crinkly white shirt. He quickly gestured to the gatekeeper to continue what he couldn’t do. Sam stepped forward, lifting up a small plastic pouch containing a familiar amber powder, as well as a small sheet of paper. Though the plastic pouch was considerably larger than what Ralph used to bring, holding a much finer version of the amber powder. The brilliant raw hue sparkled despite the hindrance of the pouch, glistening as it danced in its confines matching a fine gram of sand.

    ‘Me and Vincent managed to map down the names and location Daiva had given Ralph.’

    ‘So, it’s true then,’ Rachel interjected, ‘The Mythos are still alive.’

    ‘Not much alive as in exist,’ The serpent quickly remarked. ‘There will only be fewer of us in the future now that most of our kind only exist in ones.’

    ‘Still, this might save us,’ The gatekeeper hummed, spreading the powder in the middle of the group circle.

    ‘You do realize this will escalate the war,’ The punk said, the wounds on her arms quickly speaking for her concerns.

    ‘They’ve killed us in the dark for too long, my dear,’ The serpent answered.

     The powder fell towards the cracked concrete beneath them, but it did not touch it. Inches away from the ground, it began to glow a bright amber hue. The fine mixture floated up just above waist, spreading and morphing into a large topographical map of Indonesia. Over 16,000 amber hued islands spread across the dark nook of the flyover.

    Sam’s eyes glowed the same colour of the map, his dark skin contrasting against the amber light as his steady and delicate hands controlled and shape the map into its full form. Light shades of maroon bloomed through the specific spots on the glowing terrain, marking the Mythos spread across the country.

    ‘One could only wonder how they had hidden themselves for so long,’ He remarked.

    ‘We have our ways,’ The serpent retorted.

    Amo couldn’t help touching the edge of the map, marvelling at the two dots on the island of Kalimantan. One dot rested just on top of the Bukit Raya mountain, spanning high as one of the highest points in Central Kalimantan. The other dot burrowed deep in the Java sea, on the south of Kalimantan. Her still optimistic mind winded her back to the famous incident of an airplane sinking in the sea back in 2014, cases of two legendary witches who had enough power to incite a wave of rebellion by sinking a plane. She was never sure if it had been p********a or news.

    However, it didn’t take long for her eyes to wander off to Yogyakarta; and the place was quick to wipe her curious smile away. The smoke was still present in the map, coarse-amber powder floating aimlessly as the absent wind blew on it. There in the city, a single maroon dot stands still.

    ‘Looks like we found the survivors,’ Rachel remarked.

    ‘I couldn’t imagine how they must feel,’ Holy added, ‘Seeing your own province bombed and burnt to ashes.’

    ‘Well be that as it may, they had to do what they can to preserve their line,’ Ralph quickly said, gesturing for Sam to continue.

    The gatekeeper’s hands continued to dance delicately as it moved the dust, each touch to the topography made with an unwavering heart. The islands that isn’t marked dissolved into the sea that seemed to flow and dance against the tips of each remaining islands, drawing more and more focus towards the maroon dots. There were six dots in total, one resting in Jakarta to symbolise the serpent.

    ‘This isn’t a fixed location,’ Vincent quickly explained, ‘We can’t accurately track them since we only got their current location, so they could be moving at any time.’

    ‘But like Ms. Daiva, most of them have stayed in one province since the war.’

    The serpent hummed, tracing her nimble fingers through a dot placed on Bali, ‘Well, all except one.’

    The soot-haired man quickly cleared his throat whispering something to Sam. The gatekeeper nodded, briskly stirring and waving at the map. A bright maroon line formed between each area, making a trail through the map starting from the nearest dot from their district. He wasted no time with his movements, waving his hand upwards as the seas of Indonesia swirled around him. With each gesture, the map gains in detail, speckles of what was once idle dust slowly closing together to form a denser and brighter contour. Its warm ray of light dance around the members, marking a brilliant contrast against the confines of Ralph’s concealing spell.

    The six maroon dots grew with the terrain, quickly forming into the human figures of the Mythos. Three women and three men divided between sea and land. The serpent’s mouth beamed at the sight. Slowly, her index finger found its way to her own maroon figure. Mixing and swimming against the sparkling dust before drawing her finger back, a small strand of the maroon dust following her trail of air. The map had spanned to its most detailed capacity, its ray reaching up the farthest of their confines, making the rest of the world dark and pale in comparison.

    ‘Hiding away doesn’t work, obeying authorities doesn’t work,’ Ralph said. ‘What we need to do is speak in their language, to speak in war.’

    ‘We don’t have enough resources to travel,’ Holy quickly said.

    ‘With me, now you do,’ The serpent answered, ‘My business has saved up more than enough.’

‘And who will be keeping watch of our hideout?’

    This time, the woman laughs, the sly in her voice dancing around the bitten edge of her lips. She rummaged through the pocket of her dark skirt, retrieving two pictures of what seemed to be her cartel. Thousands of workers and refugees from losing districts huddled up in secluded warehouses, mechanising what used to be the raw form of magic into powders and potions. Men, women, and child lined up in an endless but essential loop of manufacture that helped the rest of Indonesian magic users survive under the war for revolution. All of them serving under her heel.

    She held up the picture for everyone to see, the shiny film of the photo paper glistening under the warm light of the gatekeeper’s map. Her petite hands held the picture higher, before a ball of flame bursts through her fingertips, burning the two pictures. Of course, there must be no proof to trace.

    ‘I will send my best people to protect your home,’ The woman said, ‘but I will make sure they would burn what is left, when the people who wish to harm you penetrate your defences.’

    The informant’s expression turned to that of shock, anger, then sadness. Her eyes dancing towards the flame in the serpent’s grasp, the dark-brown of her swallow-tailed eyes too glossy even for the bright light. Her mouthed moved quickly, though the swarming reasons of denial in her heart only surfaced itself in hushed whispers.

    ‘Isn’t this too risky?’ Was the only thing audible enough to make it to the ears of the group, a group that’s increasingly growing timorous.

    ‘What about our research?’ Vincent added, ‘all the spells and information we’ve gathered over the years?’

    ‘No revolution is exempt from sacrifice and anarchy,’ Daiva said, her jaw tightening as the words left her core.

    Ralph quickly added, ‘We all know this is a sacrifice we have to make someday, no home is not temporary for us.’

    The circle grew quiet for a beat, the glow of the gatekeeper’s map somehow glowing dimmer by the second. Along with the silence, comes a wave of stare stringed towards Rachel. How could they not? Knowing the woman was living proof of what happens when a revolution burns to ashes, as it does with the generation that made Ralph and Daiva as well as the generation before them. They’ve lost too much, there would be no going back if they lost this momentum as they lost the last one.

    But the woman held her head up high, her scar shown proudly for the first time since she came to the district. She nods her head, agreeing with the people who had fell before her. The veteran smiled, carrying what had felt akin to blind devotion; with the sole difference of experience of what she had falsely believed in.

    ‘I trust them,’ The punk finally said, ‘Just as you should.’

    There was a beat of silence, festering along with the thickening air.

    Still, the woman continued. ‘I’ve found survivors of Yogyakarta, just as I had found this district after what I’ve lost. We found hope, so let’s not keep the heavens waiting and waste the momentum.’

    Another wave of silence. Though this time, the air had felt light and the fine dust around them had suddenly turned warmer against the dim light reach of the flyover. The punk stepped away from the centre of the circle, retreating herself to let another voice speak. She holds her own arms, as if to familiarize herself with the wound on her arms. However, what she had failed to notice before, were the faintest trace of purple lightning—twirling and wrapping the bandaged parts of her arms as if it were wild vines. It was a new leap, however small it was.

    ‘I assure you all, this is a sacrifice we will only make if necessary’ Ralph finally asked, a sweep of momentum easing what it could of the worries that plagued them.

    ‘And a sacrifice worth the cause,’ Daiva added, her eyes settling on Amo.

    The cobalt haired girl stood with unease at the sudden attention, but she was no fool. She quickly produced the Kris out of her pocket, trying her best to not be demoralized by the eyes following the glistening metal. However, the serpent seemed to know the fright too well, and it didn’t take her hands long to retrieve her crystal ball out of the pocket of her skirt. It was then and only then, did the group’s hope of vestige turned to a rosier hue. As it was, front of them were two rare and powerful relics, and one known Mythos.

    ‘How much should I prepare for the group?’ The girl blurted.

    ‘As much of anything with healing and defence properties,’ The serpent replied. ‘But I need you to focus on potions with mental healing properties.’ 

    Amo’s eyes find their way to Ralph once more, who had suddenly seemed to forget how to be who he once was. There was no questioning that something must happen between his exchange with the serpent last night, though only the night’s sky could recall what had happened that gave him his wounds and wisdom. And it was then that her hands found themselves concealing the handle of a blade that once was owned by a boy greater than her, and she prayed her grip wouldn’t scratch the scabbard.

    ‘I will provide any supplies necessary for you to mix your own brews,’ The serpent added, pulling her out of what thoughts she had left.

    ‘Now comes the hard part,’ Ralph said, gesturing towards the map. ‘Getting the people, we need.’

    ‘We’ll start with areas near us,’ The serpent explained, ‘my connections can get us safely to Yogyakarta in a night, though getting out is the more dangerous part.’

    ‘There is a dead man our tail, we can’t risk something like last night happening again.’

    ‘Which is why we need to move as quickly as we can,’ The serpent added.

    The woman nodded at Ralph’s assistance, her hands trailing towards the maroon people showed by the gatekeeper’s map. Indulging the group on which routes they must take for each destination—from the centre of Yogyakarta, The Semeru mountain and Purwo forest of East Java, the lowest and highest point of Kalimantan, and Bali. The serpent wasted no details, leaving no details on which areas of the country are lenient enough that they can afford to use magic, which areas are a red zone that requires they disguise as normal humans, and which areas they will need to defend their life with.

    Amo listened intently to the instructions, carefully planning the essential things she’ll need to provide the group in a short amount of time. Her mind takes her back to the state of her lab, praying to dear stars that the woman talking in front of her will keep her word of providing aid. Though with the blurry horizon in their distance, the mighty sun had begun to rise from the deep azure sky. Its light felt dim and small compared to the glistening map in front of her. However, the heteroclite view had suddenly reminded her of the girl trapped alone in the district’s underground prison. Her hands gripped tightly around her fresh bandages, suddenly finding their sight wasteful.

    Her eyes glued themselves to the changing colours of the sky, her mind overwhelmed the suffocating dawn of reality. Her heart grew awry, prancing between every problem akin to a skittish deer. Within a heart’s beat she had found herself to be another young student who had sought nothing more than to get education. She’s but a mere high school student on her first day of the final test; who had locked her only friend in an old jail, and was now inciting a war against the country.

    However, suffocation was not going to be the cause of her demise. By the least, not today. She held her head straight, Daiva’s words anchoring her back to the world she must be in for the moment.  

    ‘Given the circumstance, we’ll also need to consider what would happen if some of them refuse,’ The woman said.

    Without missing a beat, Ralph quickly added, ‘We will honour their will, and we make sure they can no longer be traced when we leave them in their place.’

    ‘Will there even be people who refuse?’ Amo blurted.

    ‘Those who stand higher above oppression sometimes thinks most can too.’

    ‘So, we’re set for the trail then?’ Pinot interjected. ‘We just up and leave like no one will look for us?’

    ‘We have a week to prepare, to get supplies and transportation ready.’ Ralph answered, ‘and to forge a smoke-cloud to hide our leave.’

    ‘To my knowledge, some of you work as government administrative,’ Daiva added, her eyes fixated towards Sarah and Holy, ‘I will help forge your documents.’

    The two women nodded in respect, quickly typing out possible hospitable injuries that wouldn’t cause suspicion into their phones. The serpent’s eyes now danced towards Amo, who was noticeably becoming more anxious, not that no one else had noticed. In spite of it, the meeting continued as if the girl had been normal; save for the cold fights that would happen between Ralph and Pinot every now and then. It had been nearly 8am once the meeting was over.

    ‘So, it’s settled then?’ Ralph asked once more.

    The group nodded, some more certain than others.

    ‘Look, we can’t go back after this,’ The man warned. ‘We either die now or later, that is your choice to make and I will not hold it against you.’

    Another nod, more certain this time. With that the map in front of them vanished, brilliant dust turned to soot-coloured muck before it dissolved into the ground, no trace of it left. The group quickly stepped out of the circle, dissolving the cover they had put up to conceal themselves. Spreading out as if they were ants, some disappearing into thin air as if they had never been there. Though as most things tend to be, some were urged to stay, for a little while longer.

    Unlike most things, it was Amo who was beckoned by Ralph and Daiva. The cobalt haired girl cautiously approached them, realizing the sudden danger she had now that the ring of camouflage had dissipated. Her eyes couldn’t help but meet hers, the creature…The human that the entire country had deemed as a national enemy. It was impossible to not be intimidated by that stare, that utterly raw and unrefuted power. Though before the girl had realized, she had been pulled into their presence.

    ‘You know I can’t keep showing up late to school,’ She quickly said, masking the time she had spent entirely agape.

    ‘Maintaining a patterned schedule is always important,’ The woman replied, ‘no matter if it were to be punctual or the exact opposite.’ 

    ‘So, why am I here?’

    ‘We’d like to see the Kris.’

    Amo’s eyes gazed the two of them once more, long enough for it to strain. Though she recovered just as quickly, placing the doubt she had as she pulled out the blade. As it once has, the blade’s splendid scabbard quickly caught the light, marking every surface its glimmer touches in a brilliant gold hue. The serpent quickly took out the crystal ball, holding it close enough so that the light of the Kris grazed it.

    ‘This crystal ball, is the only artifact of magic left by the Holland colony,’ Daiva explained, ‘it was given to me by on of their people, who believed what they were doing to us was wrong.’

    ‘The Indonesians?’

    ‘Them, and us as well,’ She replied.

    A cold wave of silence swept through Amo, every fibre of her being taking her back to the pale and lonely girl locked in a prison cell. She makes a note to herself to check on the girl after school, to give the girl the books and clothes she had promised; and possibly give the girl a hug. She kept her eyes forward, knowing Pinot was there to protect the cell at the hour.

    ‘The same kind of people who had injected the fallacy in our culture, was once a Mythos just like us,’ The serpent said, ‘cowardice was bred into us as the history books have told you.’

    ‘I know, witches and users of magic was a heavy aid in the liberation of the country,’ She answered. ‘It wasn’t something I’d forget after what happened to my parents.’

    ‘Then you’re well aware of what you did when they died,’ Ralph said.

    Silence was quick to gnaw the remainder of Amo’s insides, slithering in the morning air as if it were to suffocate her. The light of the blade catches her breath, now combined by the subtle crystalline hue of the serpent’s relic. The lights mangled and dance as if they were hunter and prey, each of its power overlapping the other. She felt weak under it.

    The woman gazed upon her; years of pain reflected in her eyes. ‘Do you realize what I am telling you?’

    ‘I would rather not say it,’ She muttered, before quickly snapping, ‘I refuse it.’

    ‘Amo, you know what you are,’ Ralph said. ‘I’m guessing Andrew was well aware himself.’

    ‘Ralph…Don’t push it.’

    ‘I’m sure you’ve forgotten when you were young,’ The man answered, ‘but in spite the ignorance of others, you remember now.’

    ‘Stop…’

    ‘Mythos aren’t bred, my dearest charm caster,’ The woman said.

    Amo’s hands were shaking now, nails grip and grit into the blade in her hand as if she was holding on for dear life. She knew why, the cobalt haired girl short of being dolt. Though tremors beneath her chest, and the unbearable pain searing her from the insides of her flesh—the weight of a nation’s faith slit into her veins as if she were cattle. Indeed, that was the most unbearable misfortune of it all.

    ‘In spite of what I am, I’ve fail to save them,’ She muttered, ‘Just as I failed him.’

    ‘They did what they had to do, to help you safe us.’

    ‘Andrew was a talented wizard, but only a Mythos can wield a relic,’ The woman added. ‘I presume he knew that neither him nor Inca can ever hold the blade properly.’

    ‘Stop!’

    Ralph yanked Amo’s hand, gripping the blade. ‘Amo, no one of our kind will be born for at least another decade!’

    Quick as the tears welling in her eyes, the cobalt haired girl pulled her hand away. The look on Ralph’s face was nothing short of stunned, as the fine blue light illuminated his slowly draining face. She had almost regretted it, though her hands were fixed in place, resting on her chest as if the shield the blade’s magnificent light. Though none of them had noticed, the blade’s light dimmed under her warm touch, as if to not disturb her gentle embrace. Its now subtle light danced and twirled against the cheap fabric of her clothes, mingling with the tight bandages wrapped around her arm as if to comfort the aching wounds beneath it. It had seemed just as despondent as her, though not quite.

    Amo stood still, the blade in her hand stained with the pearls of her tears. ‘Ralph I am sickly, I am weak, and I’m sure as hell bred just like you.’

    ‘Amo-’

    ‘I know Andrew would rather die than let his family relic be in the hands of the enemy,’ She continued, ‘But you know just as well as me that my potential is only token to convince the others to join us.’

    ‘So, you’re refusing?’

    ‘Of course not,’ The girl chuckled, tears climbing up through the clear surface of her brilliant eyes. ‘I would just rather not have you two call me that.’

    The serpent blinked a few times. ‘You…Refuse to claim your status, but not your duty.’

    This time, the chuckle grew to a giggle. ‘I’ll hold this thing as long as I can, but we both know I won’t last long in battle with the extent of my power…With or without the blade.’

    ‘Don’t say that.’

    ‘Mythos can die, Ralph,’ She snapped. ‘Me more so than others.’

    ‘What are you saying?’

    ‘I’m saying, I’m unfit in spite of what I am,’ She finally said, placing the Kris back in her pocket. ‘If there is someone out there, a stronger Mythos who didn’t have the privilege of a relic…’

    The two of them looked at her, the colours of their faces quickly telling her to not finish her sentence; as they know all too well what she was saying. This time, the serpent touches her, though not like her leader. The woman’s petite arms danced across the blue and gold light between them, reaching out as if it were an anchor carved out of the finest ivory and crystal gems. Her touch felt comforting, and painful.

    It had felt perfectly normal, perfectly cruel. As the morning sun rises further above the horizons, and the faintest sounds of cars vibrated under them, Amo couldn’t help but wish time had stopped. Though when skin and skin finally meet, it had almost felt as if she had seen someone she hadn’t met in a lifetime. For a moment, they were one experience, one line of journey in an endless symphony that had yet to be continued.   

    'When we find the right person,’ The serpent spoke, words falling like raindrops in the morning sky. ‘But for now, you hold on to that blade and you hold on tight, my dearest charm caster.’

    Amo looked towards her, not realizing the faint smile forming on her face

    ‘Of course, mam.’

    ‘Amo?’ Mandy asked, her voice echoing just past the small confines of her prison.

    The man behind the metal door forced a chuckle. ‘Not quite.’

    The metal door opened with an excruciating sound, slowly letting the fresh air flood through the tiny room. The hunched man looked towards the girl, noticing her wounds have healed completely. Though his eyes were quick to move around, noticing the cell was now cleaner than when they had left it.

    ‘Where is she?’

    ‘In school I assume,’ Pinot replied, gesturing the girl to sit on the bed. ‘Didn’t know finals are today for you academics.’

    ‘Well, I don’t that hardly matters now.’

    The man paused for a moment, his expression suddenly changing into something Mandy aren’t familiar with. ‘They’re looking for you.’

    Mandy quickly sat on the bed, realizing Pinot had a first aid kit by his side. The man made sure to approach her carefully, though slow enough to almost drive her insane. He kneeled in front of her, quickly procuring a water bottle, a small bottle of betadine, and plasters. She pulled up the hem of her skirt, just enough for the man to treat her. Of course, this wasn’t absent of inquiries of magical healing potions that would presumably do the job faster; though the man refused to answer why they were hogging the stock upstairs.

    ‘Well, good to know they care for me,’ She said, before hissing at the prick of pain from the betadine.

    ‘Are they important?’

    Mandy couldn’t help but pause. ‘What…You mean family?’

    ‘Well yeah, if you really miss them, we can get you a disposable cell phone’ the man replied, his eyes focusing on nothing but the wound on the girl’s legs.

    ‘Wouldn’t that let them know I’m alive?’

    ‘I don’t think it matters at this point,’ He continued, ‘we’re not staying her for long.’

    ‘Did something happen?’

    The man chuckled for a second time. ‘Now that…I cannot tell you.’

    The air had suddenly felt thicker, in spite of the open door in front of them. The man quickly finished treating the wounds on her legs, gesturing her to show him any other cuts or bruises on her. She shakily raised her arms revealing fine cuts strewn across her pale forearms.

    The cuts were just a few centimetres long in length, deep enough to draw blood though not detrimental towards her health. Pinot made a not to not ask, knowing it was most likely the result of Amo’s spell. Though the thought made his mind wonder, a mix of awe and conjectures of what might happen if the charm caster hadn’t stopped herself. He quickly dismissed the notions, focusing himself on the subtle sounds of airflow and old creaking metals echoing in the hallway.

    ‘Does this mean I get to get out soon?’

    ‘If you wish to do so.’

    ‘And Amo?’

    Pinot looked up from the wound, realizing much too late that the betadine had trickled down to the bed. ‘We’re in a middle of a war, it will continue even if you’ve left.’

    ‘She’s important, isn’t she?’

    'In a way,’ He replied, careful to watch his tongue. ‘You can ask her yourself later tonight, though she’ll be a bit busy in the lab.’

    A subtle echo of thunder vibrated through the walls, warning them of a bigger storm once the afternoon ends. Pinot quickly finishes his treatments, quickly apologising for the dark maroon stain he had made on the bed. He left as the wind did, locking the thick metal door behind him a while Mandy stayed on the bed.

    She couldn’t help but want to touch the newly plastered arms, aching to pick at the wounds.