After hearing the muffled sound of the blaring alarm clock, I forced myself out of sleep and sluggishly dragged my half-dead body across the room. At least it wasn’t fully dead. I paused for a moment as I thought back to the dream I had last night, then snapped out of it again. I had decided it was best not to think about it for now. I sleepily brushed my teeth and got ready for school. I looked down at my watch: 8am. God damn it, I was late for school. I mean, I was late all the time, but I still made a point in trying… At least, sometimes. I hastily snatched a piece of toast from the kitchen table and made a dash for the door, ignoring my mother’s gradually fading remarks about how “breakfast is the most important meal of the day and you should have a proper meal”. Sprinting as fast as I could, I managed to arrive 10 minutes late-much to the teacher’s surprise (usually I didn’t arrive for an hour after class had started). I reluctantly walked to my seat and sat down.
“Alright class” Boomed Ms.Emerald.”Today, to refine your knowledge on the last math lessons, we will have a quick test.” Her voice turned sharper, like a verbal dagger aiming straight at her student’s hearts, grinning evilly from her desk. “Don’t worry. It will be quick and painless.”
She handed out the papers, gleeful as if she was issuing them each a public execution.
As soon as the class took a single look at the paper, an eerie thick atmosphere condensed throughout the classroom. The test was filled with insanely difficult equations, with a few even taking up half the page.
A student finally worked up the courage (or stupidity-we will never know) to raise their hand in question of the test.
Ms. Emerald’s eyes darted instantly to the stray hand held up in the middle of her class. She spoke with a cold, drawled voice.
“Yes, Max?”
“Uhmm… Miss… This test has some questions that you haven’t even touched upon yet. In fact, I think they were meant to be taught in college for math specialists, mis…” His voice was quiet and hesitant, as if he already realised he had just made a grave mistake.
Ms. Emerald slowly walked down to his desk. I could feel the tension pressing down on me, one that signaled the coming death of the boy. By now, Max was shivering in his seat. Beads of sweat collected on his face, which was as pale as the sheets of glass on the class window. His heart looked like it was beating so fast there was no telling if it was actually beating at all. Ms. Emerald pulled out her red pen, and, as quick as a flash, she marked Max’s test with a large red F.
The class became dead silent, each of them being able to understand full well the consequences Max was going to face. The poor boy was now hanging his head low, his mind in a state of mixed shock and embarrassment.
Throughout the rest of the test, no other student raised their hand again.
I, however, didn’t worry. Despite all the fuss, I actually found it pretty easy. When I looked at my paper, the symbols and numbers didn’t really mean anything. But then, as if by magic, the letters moved across the paper in my mind. They formed patterns, sequences like dancing lines of code.
Equations suddenly popped into my head.An equation appeared. Then another. And another. Not remembered. Not learned. Known.
They applied themselves to the absurdly long questions on my paper, and my hands moved automatically, writing them down on the wrinkled paper. I had no control over this-it just happened on occasion. But when it did, it was nothing short of magical. Before long, I had gone through the entire test. All 10 pages. Damn. Even I have to admit that’s impressive. I quickly checked my watch. There was still 30 minutes left. Really? It felt like hours had passed. To be fair, I never had been able to keep track of time when my brain was doing… Well, whatever that was. Another one of it’s disadvantages was that it took a LOT of energy. I tiredly slumped head-first onto the table, closed my eyes, and fell into a deep, fatigued sleep.
I looked down onto the world below me, mixed with sadness and regret. Hard to believe it’s been more than 66 million years since we accidentally caused the dinosaurs’ extinction. Now, these human pests are slowly consuming the earth, destroying the planet that we created. Worst part is, we can’t even interfere! Curse this damned oath. A voice besides me spoke inside my mind, in an attempt to ease my discomfort.
“Now now, ####. The plan has been working… Somewhat. Although the “Ageagis Division”-or, whatever the humans call it-is slowing our progress, it has been working. We still have enough mortality left to interfere. Well, ### does, at least. But then again, what can we do at the moment, right?
They let out a slight chuckle at their comment. I personally didn’t find it very funny.
“Well, it wasn’t supposed to be. I try to cheer you up, and this is what I get?”
They sounded disappointed, but seemed to quickly shrug it off.
“By the way, there has been a particular human ### told us to take care of. He’s over here.
He shared a video with me in my mind. It was of a large burly boy, holding a scrawny student by the neck. There was a crowd of students around them, shouting chaotically. That was humans for ya. They think they’re better than everything, but the truth is, they haven’t even surpassed the cockroaches in their maturity.
“No, not the humans in the middle. This one.”
He zoomed the video towards a particular boy standing in the crowd, watching the commotion. He looked bored. Disappointed in the humans. I observed his life. A life of pain, misery, and regret. I saw him take his first steps, and his final breath in this wretched world. I saw him get raised high and showered with praise, only to observe his fall down to the cruel hard reality that we had created. However, up to a point, something blocked me. I was overcome by a flash of shock. This had never happened before. Not in the near infinite years of my existence. Hmm… There was definitely something special about this boy….
“I like this human. He seems to know what he’s doing.” I thought to the other voice.
“Well, that’s a shame. ### told me he has a bad feeling about this boy. Maybe it’s his competence, maybe it’s his potential. Something like that. You know how vague ###’s prophecies are. In the end, we will eventually have to #### him. ####’s direct orders. And when he isn’t speaking in prophecies, you know it’s serious.”
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
“Oh well. It’s too bad. Can we at least leave him till later though? I’m interested in how this turns out.”
They shrugged neglectingly.
“Do whatever you want. I don’t really care much about him, really.”
It was only when he left that I sensed something. Something watching me-reading my thoughts and seeing over my actions. Something that should never have been there. Ah. I see now. It’s been a pleasure meeting you, presence. But I’m afraid I cannot afford to hold you any longer… Goodbye.
<”Epiphany Of Emotion” has been forcibly terminated>
I was yanked out of my nap, confused. That seems to be a recurring theme these past days.
When my vision returned, I could see a ridiculously ugly face staring at me intently, almost with killing intent. It doesn’t take a genius to guess whose face it was.
“CASSIAN!!! Hand me your test, and, in exchange, I’ll hand you… a slip to detention!!!” Her voice boomed, ringing with annoying triumph. She slammed a slip of signed paper for a trip to the “torture chamber”… with my name on it. She had literally planned on giving it to me today, no matter the circumstance. I reluctantly took it and stuffed it into my pocket. So much for my plans to laze around in bed all night after school.
Noticing my unusual calmness, she was about to launch another verbal throw, when…
RINNGGGGGG
I internally screamed in exasperation. Literally “saved by the bell”. Oh well, you know what they say about not looking a gift horse in the teeth. I shot up in my seat, dashing out of the classroom before Ms. Emerald could lecture me on something like “the bell is a signal for me not you!!!!”.
I did the same thing I always did at every single recess. I sulked while leaning on the school wall, hands in my pockets and questioning existence. I didn’t exactly have any friends. Or, rather, no one thinks that they are worthy of being my equal. I was always called the “weird”, “autistic”, “crazy” kid. In my defense, they were probably just coping with my superiority. I have to admit, though, that I did come off as unapproachable. I mostly stay silent, only talking to myself in my mind, because that’s the only person who actually understands me. However, if someone wants to be worthy of being my friend, they have to approach me. It’s only fair, in my opinion. Although, today, I felt a little different.
I observed the students on the playground. Humans. Predictable. They swarmed in small groups, interacting with each other, laughing and dancing around as they made jokes and played games with each other. Well, at least, that was what happened on the surface. If you dared to look closer, there appears to be a clear social hierarchy. The group of nerds are subconsciously avoiding the group of bullies, the simps are drawing closer to the girl groups, their bragging voices emphasised dramatically to be heard amongst the crowd. If you look closely, there was always something underneath. As I’ve learned. Nothing is ever as it seems. NOTHING. I backed away from my clinical view for a moment. I had just noticed something I had never noticed before. It didn’t matter what group it was- the nerds, the bullies, the jocks, the girls,...- they all had one thing in common. They looked like they were having fun. It made sense, really. Social animals are biologically encouraged to be social. Simple evolutionary facts.
But then I remembered something. An image flashed across my mind. It was the image of me, in the victim’s body. Seeing myself. The bitter feeling returned to my tongue, leaving a sick burn in my throat. I quickly brushed it away. However, I was left with a horrifying question. Was I having fun? In my ego, I had forgotten that I wasn’t some high and mighty force. I was just the same as all of them. Do I… need to get a friend, after all?
I mean, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to try… The question is, who? The only guy who I remotely know is that beat-up nerd, and that was from possessing his emotions for a while… Oh well. It was all I had, and, to be honest, I kind of pitied the boy. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to do one good thing for once…
But then again, what defines “good”, really? Ughh…. I just realised this is going to take up one of my philosophy sessions. This boy better be worth it.
Then there was the problem of finding him.
I just tried the first approach that came to mind, which was simply wandering aimlessly throughout the school, asking people if they had seen the boy. However, that proved to be incredulously ineffective. Actually, it was quite strange. No one seemed to even know of his existence, even though there had just been a crowd around him just yesterday. When I tried to remind them of the fight, they just told me I was crazy and schizophrenic. One particular girl even kindly offered to guide me to the nearest mental hospital. I haven't gone crazy yet… I think. The fight did happen… right? I don’t even know anymore. Maybe I just made it all up in my head. My mind did strange things sometimes, so it wasn’t really impossible.
But then I remembered my dream again. The emotions and memories came back to me in a flash, before disappearing just as quickly. It was a dream, sure, but it felt… real, somehow. I was sure of one thing: The victim really did exist. I had felt his emotions. His memories. I literally became him for a while. Refilled with determination, I decided to get back for a few more times.
I walked up to the nearest boy. He looked muscular, but smart. His clothes were straight, kept neatly to follow the school regulations to the letter. He wore a solemn, straight face in a demeanor that matched the rest of his body. In short, he looked boring.
I walked up to him and tried to strike up a conversation.
“Hey! Nice weather, right?”
He ignored me and continued to stare absently into space
“Uhm… Hello?? Welp. Nevermind. By the way, have you seen the guy who was bullied yesterday? The one who caused the whole commotion?”
There was no response.
“You know, the scrawny, nerd looking guy with the weirdly detailed copper key?”
At these words, he flinched a little. A worried expression flashed briefly across his face before returning to his usual solemn face. However, he finally spoke.
“Get lost. I suggest you go hug the back walls of the school for a while. That might calm you down, and, more importantly, keep you from annoying me.”
Was that a faint smile on his face?
I reluctantly walked away. That was a strange insult.
You see, I don’t think that was an insult at all. I think he was actually telling me to check the back of the school. I think. Maybe I’m just grasping at straws, but… There was a particular expression on his face when he said that. I think he knows more than he lets on…
Oh well. Like I said, what else was I going to do?
I ran around the school, approaching it’s back walls. There was nothing. I tried staring at it. Still nothing. Thinking back, he did say to “hug” the wall, right? I can’t believe I’m doing this…
I covered the wall, moving around while pressing my body against it desperately. It must have been such a strange sight. Eventually, just when I thought it wouldn’t work, I heard a muffled “click” from the wall. I had just pressed a hidden button of sorts. Then, I felt the wall rumbling. I yelped, jumping back in surprise. The wall was moving. It worked like a hidden door, and I had just activated it. The space where the wall had once been was now a passageway, leading down a small, dimly lit tunnel. I cannot believe what was happening right now. Though, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing I’ve experienced these days, in particular.
As curiosity got the better of me, I took a few hesitant steps down the tunnel. I was hit by the strong smell of blood. It wasn’t faint, either. It was overpowering. I was suddenly overcome with fear-which was a surprise. For some stupid reason, I looked down at my feet. There was a trail of blood drops on the steps down the tunnel. Fresh, red blood. suddenly, I wasn’t scared anymore. I was feeling… excited? Trust my survival instincts to fail right now. As if by an unknown force, I ran down the stairs, going deeper into the tunnel. My legs were moving by themselves, with no consent from me whatsoever. At the end of the tunnel, I could finally see where the blood was coming from. It was the victim. And he was being beaten to death. Again.