Chapter 2: To A Perpetual Journey; Part 4

  “Shut up.” The boy took the magazine from the cop’s pockets, reloaded his gun, and shot the girl. The video faded with a violin playing a piece which conveyed sadness. On the credits, only a single sentence was written, “A true-story film by Trakun.”

  “And that’s it,” Trakun said, clasping his hands. “What do you think? It’s good, right? It’s good. That’s what I thought. Can’t believe I made such a story. And most of all, you’re fully awake now.”

  “What the hell!” Karkus said. “I thought he liked her. I have so many questions right now.”

  “How rude of you to say that. I’ve worked hard on it, so it definitely must be good. It’s a direct confrontation, no betrayal.”

  Karkus gazed at him for a moment; he seemed to be implying something. “There’s something I’d like to confirm.”

  Trakun snapped his fingers and said, “Go on.”

  “This video you showed me, is it a reality rom-com? And you influenced the real people there? They have this sweet budding relationship between them, and you changed it?”

  Trakun nodded. “I have changed their course of life!” He declared, sticking out his chest.

  “So they have this budding adolescent feeling filled with awkwardness and sweetness, then you change their destiny into one where they kill each other.”

  “You got that right.”

  “What’s wrong with you?! Are you out of your mind?”

  “As a creator of destiny, it is my job to give excitement — to give life to those who have their reasons. To stimulate a desire or just give a whole new change. Can’t you see the life in their eyes?”

  Karkus took a deep breath. “The boy cried after he shot the girl, and the girl is dead. You destroyed their life, and I am certain that there is no life in their eyes, blockhead.”

  “Oh,” Trakun said, sounding impressed. “So you think what I did is no good? As my guest, are you requesting me to return their lives to normal?”

  “Please.”

  Trakun motioned his arms like a veteran conductor. “Just so you know, Karkus, I can use my power without making any movement.”

  “I know.”

  “Liar, I can read your mind. Immolate yourself as payment for trying to outsmart me.”

  “No, no one’s burning anything here.” He may be able to read my mind, Karkus thought.

  “Actually I can’t read your mind. That’s why you’re here.”

  “Then immolate yourself.”

  Trakun ignited himself, but the flames vanished in an instant. He ceased from motioning his arms. “It’s done.”

  A lamppost lit a pathway on the side of the gymnasium. On the shaded side, the bowl-cut boy was sobbing with his faced buried in his knees. His knuckles had some of the skin shed, and coagulated blood. And his sneakers had his toes bare. He must have had kicked and punched the wall so hard in venting his frustrations.

  “Crying over this simple thing... I’m so pathetic,” the boy said. He continued mumbling unrecognizable voice.

  Swift footsteps rang across the area. The boy looked up, and wiped the tears from his face. As the boy waited for someone to appear, the footsteps stopped. Instead, he heard a panting voice, thus he stood up and searched for the source of the voice.

  If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

  Gradually, he saw a girl resting her back on a pillar on the pathway back to the main building — the petite girl. She was panting repeatedly and groaned in pain because her knees were scraped, and had her clothes smudged with dirt and some leaves. The boy immediately rushed to her side.

  “Are you okay?” the boy asked.

  “I...read your letter,” the girl said, taking out the letter from her PE shorts. “It’s beautiful. I really liked it.”

  “Now’s not the time for that. Look at you. You look messed up.”

  “As if...you can say that.”

  “Anyway, what are you doing here? It’s already past six. Your parents surely are worried right now.”

  “I had to look for you. That’s why this happened. I just want to say that I don’t like that guy. It’s you. You’re the one I like.”

  The bowl-cut boy mouth went agape.

  “I was worried that you’d hate me because you just stormed out.”

  “I won’t do that to you, I don’t hate you. I just don’t like myself acting pathetic like this.”

  “Tell me. Do you like me?”

  The boy joined her hands together with the girl. “Of course I do. I really like you. That’s why I hurry my practice so I could watch you every day.”

  She embraced him. “I’m glad.” She placed her hand on his head, and raised it up, and played with his hair until he looked like the same as the attractive boy that shot her. “This suits you better.”

  That’s too much of a transformation, Karkus thought.

  “Let’s go. I’ll carry you back home.”

  “Sorry, I’ve got my knees scraped.” She leaned on his back, and whispered, “Thanks you.”

  They both shared a sweet low laugh as the boy carried the girl. The video faded with credits written, “A film by Trakun. Produced by Karkus and under his name was Good End.”

  “Satisfied?” Trakun said.

  Karkus nodded. “It’s better than the last. I’m happy for them. They deserve good ending.”

  “Something you weren’t able to give."

  Karkus stayed silent. Instead he shifted his attention around the hall, videos were still playing, and an imitation of his power reflected his surroundings. He looked at his arms and find out that the pulsing light that covered his whole hand was now just a steady faint light between his index finger and thumb.

  “Although it took us a long time, we have successfully taken it,” Trakun said.

  “I see,” Karkus said as he attempted to move his hand. Nothing happened. “Very well, what do you want from me?”

  “Everything. We want to know everything.”

  “I know, but tell me something more specific.”

  “E-v-e-r—” Trakun snapped his fingers.

  “I’m out.” Karkus turned away. He collided to something.

  “Ouch,” a female voice said as she fell on the ground.

  Chapter 2; Part 4 End.