Chapter 20

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    Chris stood snickering right behind me, but I couldn't care less. I've been having a moment for the past ten minutes. What could have shocked me more than the fact that I could possibly be a whole body demon? That would be a laptop. That's what Chris called it. A laptop.

I couldn't process the fact that this little thingy could store hundreds and hundreds of books. I broke my brain figuring out how could they squeeze a book, to fit into such a tiny, flat rectangular box. Okay, I guess I could accept the idea of a cellphone, of automatic doors, automatic keys, automatic cars...but the entire laptop, or in other words - a computer idea, had blown me away.

Chris sighed annoyingly. "It's a program, Stacy. They are not actual books. They just managed to convert the numbers into the system and create the programs. It's like...I don't know...Instead of interacting with physical items you interact with virtual - made up items. First computers were quite primitive. You needed to input a particular code to get the result. Modern computers are advanced. In the future, the entire household will be computerized. Voice commands, virtual keyboards," he pointed at the buttons with the letters on them. "Imagine that they took the entire library and converted the books into the tiny programs and then inserted them into the storage unit of the computer. It actually could be anything. I just gave you an example, that you would most likely understand."

"What else this thingy can store?" I asked tracing the screen with my fingers

"Anything, really," he replied shrugging his shoulders. "To be honest, the laptop itself is quite boring without the internet."

"What's the internet?"

"Uh! Something that is way cooler than a computer in itself." I creased my brows, listening trying to grasp the idea. "Okay. Imagine there are cities, and each city has a library. Each library has a catalog of the books, magazines and simply the information they carry, but to get to each city would take you forever." I nodded following his description. "Now imagine the cellphones. They don't need cords, like in-home landlines. You can go to any part of the world and still use it, unless of course, that place doesn't have service. The same thing is with Internet and computers. The computers have access to those libraries that store the information and different programs. You can order clothes through the Internet. You can download books, music, games, and any sort of things and it would go straight to the storage system of your computer, just by clicking the keyboard, without leaving your house."

I took a deep breath and shook my head. "I can't understand," I admitted.

"You'll figure it out," Chris replied dismissively.

"I doubt that," I muttered and decided to take a break from brainstorming.

When I was finally done studying the laptop, the interior of Chris's house spiked my interest up. I was already surprised by what I saw when entered his place for the first time, but then the laptop thing destructed me. I forgot all about my desire to explore the house.

I wouldn't tell by looking at Chris that he was that kind of guy. Even I, the girl who came from the different era, could tell that this was not common for a hick, or simply for a person who came to live in two thousand ten naturally. It was an ultra-modern design of furniture. Everything looked sleek and polished, without unnecessary details. The floor was white and shiny, the walls had no pattern and were white as the floor, but without glitter. The sofas and the tables were black and square. However, from outside, the house didn't look like anything special, blending well with the neighborhood.

Seeing this, made me think that Chris had secrets of his own, and when the time comes, I'd have to make him talk.

"I think you need to take a shower and have some medicine. This is non-drowsy one. It won't make you sleepy," Chris said bringing my attention back to him.

"I guess, you're right," I replied. I needed to take a little rest, anyway.

I followed Chris upstairs into one of the bedrooms, and while I was looking around a small space, he brought me the medicine, some spare clothes and a bottle of water. I gladly accepted everything, and after I had swallowed two pills, I emptied the bottle and stretched on the bed closing my eyes.

This was the first time in half a year when I felt myself just a human. I still needed to figure out about myself, my future, my past, Chris and what kind of person he was. But this minute felt like a much-needed vacation. I forced the flow of thoughts to stop circling inside my head and the fear that I kept hiding inside of me to leave. It was just I. I with my damaged flesh and crippled mind.

My lips stretched a little into a smile at the idea. As creepy as it was, I was still alive. Unfortunately, my memory was intact, too. I couldn't remember some things, especially things from my college or school life, thanks to Dr. Farmosa and her memory erasing methods, but everything from the night Dwight came back home from Military school and up to the moment when I woke up in two thousand ten, I knew well. Each second of it, I remembered as if it happened only yesterday.

My head was so empty, tired from generalizing my life. I didn't even notice how I switched off into a small nap.

When I woke up, I found some food waiting for me on a nightstand. I picked up the sandwich from the plate and took a sniff of it before actually allowing myself to have a bite. I learned my lesson all too well to trust someone right away. After I had been done eating, I went for a shower. My skin still burned under a flow of hot water, and those modern cleansers had so many chemicals inside that I could feel the body wash eating up my flesh leaving red marks all over me. However, it didn't stop me from using it two more times.

Feeling clean and slightly rested, I pulled on the clothes that Chris left for me earlier. It was a pair of black jeans and a red sweatshirt with a sign "Aspen, Colorado." printed across. The size was bigger than I needed, but the fabric smelled of flowers and felt soft to touch. The last I pulled the shoes on. It was the pair that George gave me. Since Charlotte was my height already, promising to grow even taller by the time she'd hit her late teens. I guessed that they belonged to her. Besides, they looked funny something that a young girl would like.

I rested my hands on my laps and looked around the bedroom. Except minimal furniture that included the bed and the nightstand, there was nothing else to rest my eyes at. The windows were shaded with the paper curtains of the same white color as the rest of the house. The only thing that had a bright spot in here was the clothes I was wearing. That was it.

My interest towards the interior quickly vanished, and I touched the comforter underneath me. Deciding to take another little nap, I drew the pillow closer and buried my face into it. Out of laziness, I closed my eyes and sighed. It was a pure joy tasting a simple freedom, seeing how it felt when you're doing absolutely nothing.

My freedom was corrupted. I was robbed of that feeling of peacefulness and pleasure. I was deprived of calm nights.

And I knew that I would never have that back.

By the time I was done the cooking in self-pity, it was already dark outside. I stood up and went to turn the lights on. A yellow light illuminated the room bringing attention to the details. I noticed that there was a built in closet and to kill the time, decided to explore the content. However, except a lady's blouse with printed big flowers and a baseball "Yankee" cap, I found nothing else. I played with the cap for a minute and placed it back on the empty shelf. After that, I lifted the blouse in the air to admire the cut of it. I haven't seen anything cute and girly in a long time, and couldn't help wonder my eyes by the beautiful red tulips with green stalks on a soft caramel fabric.

I was so engrossed into staring at the flowers that didn't hear the footsteps approaching the door from outside.

"Stacy," Chris knocked calling my name. "Stacy," he knocked again and let himself in. Calmly, I looked away from the blouse and met his gaze. "The guys just ar..." he cut himself off when saw the blouse in my hands. His eyes turned from normal to furious and with determination written on his face he started marching towards me. "Where did you get this from," he snapped reaching for the blouse.

I didn't like his tone. At the change in his behavior, my easiness was gone, and my body, or rather mind went on alert. Somewhere deep down in my consciousness, I guessed that this piece of clothes meant something to him, but I was too familiar with unpredictable people and would protect myself at any cost.

"Give it back!"

He stretched his arm connecting his skin with mine in the attempt to snatch the blouse out of my hands. That moment something happened. In the place where our skin connected, I felt icy tingles and the next thing I know Chris was flying across the room. His body smashed into the wall with a loud bang right next to the door, and he fell on the floor half-conscious.

What was that? My eyes rounded not expecting anything of this kind out of myself. The blouse slipped out of my stiffened fingers. "How?" I whispered unable to say it out loud.

I shook my head snapping out of shock and ran to Chris to see if I wounded him. Swiftly on the way, I inspected the dent that has been left on the wall by the impact and my horror doubled. I stopped dead right in front of his body. My breathing deepened and I felt my heart increasing its pace.

Chris groaned in pain and hesitantly, coming to his aid I descended onto my heels. My hands were shaking, hovering above his shoulder. I noticed his eyes blinking and carefully lowered my hand connecting it to his upper arm. Nothing happened. I swallowed nervously and traced my hand down to his elbow.

In the background, I heard voices and tapping by the steps. The voices got closer and in a moment several people appeared in a widely opened doorway.

"What the heck!" one of them cried out.

"What did you do to him?" another one snapped in a hysterical voice. When I glanced up, I saw Spencer reaching for me, meaning to pull me roughly away from Chris. The moment he grabbed my arm, the icy tingles returned, and Spencer was thrown away from me into the corridor. Luckily, he landed onto his friends who stood behind him, and the three of them groaned, cursing under their breaths.

My attention returned to Chris, and I touched his face patting his cheeks softly. "Chris," I called him. "I don't know what happened, but you ended up flying into the wall." Chris groaned, and I felt him stirring.

"What the heck was that Stacy," he mumbled and turned onto his side. "I feel like I've been hit by a truck."

"Yeah!" I heard the voice from the corridor. "What in the name of Lord was that?"

"No idea, guys. We will have to figure it out," I replied pulling Chris onto his feet.

"I'm not figuring out anything!" Spacer snapped appearing in the doorway. His posture radiated physical power. His face was twisted with anger and confusion.

"No, man. It was so fucking exciting! I want to know what this girly is?"

"Shut up, Mac!" Spacer barked out.

"Spence," Chris wrinkled his nose gesturing him to cut his attitude out, and went to seat on the bed. "This is important. Stacy knows some stuff and maybe it's connected to our case, " he said calmly sitting himself down.

"How da f..." Spencer was cut off by Chris's angry snarl.

"I said it might help. We've been digging it for the last two years, without a single trace. Do you think I won't jump at the opportunity? I don't know if those cases are related or not, but I'm willing to invest my time and make my conclusions." Chris finished talking, and silence spread among us.

I glanced at Spencer, connecting my eyes with his. His stare was firm, but with a certain hint of despair in it. His nostrils flared drawing air, and he finally looked away, pivoting out of the room. He pushed his friends out of the way, and his heavy pounding reached the staircase. After another minute, the silence fell upon us, again.

"Look at the bright side. We have a living proof that the mutants exist," Mac chirped, and his lips stretched into a toothy grin. Chris sighed. I rolled my eyes, and the other guy huffed. "What?" Mac shrugged his shoulders. "Just saying."


August 25, 1963.


I've managed to stay hidden in the city of Chicago for more than a week, but the more I stayed, the more I could see that I needed to get out of here and soon. Most of the day I would spend looking for food and clothes and at night, I would find some old abandoned building and sleep through the night. For the past three days, I've stayed in a desolated warehouse, just right outside the city. Nobody was here, and I had an opportunity to restore some of my senses along with feelings.

Physical pain that I longed to feel had come back to me on the sixth day. Though, my eyes were dry. Not a tear rolled down my cheeks. Soon, I restored almost all of my emotions and feeling that a normal person goes through each day. Maybe they didn't come back to me in the same package, but I was glad that I finally could feel, even in those small portions. Anger, despair, hope, disappointment, compassion, love, and hate.

Everything was going smoothly up to the last day when my decision was made to relocate myself.

It was already pretty late at night. I stretched my limbs on the blanket and yawned. Tonight for some reasons, my sleep didn't want to come, and I haven't even been thinking of anything to be so wrecked. I closed my eyes catching another yawn into my palm and pulled the blanket tighter around me. The darkness of the warehouse didn't bother me. I doubted that moment that there would be anything that would cause my discomfort. I let out a long sigh and forced my body to relax, but as I finally slumped my stiffened shoulders, a screech of tires from outside brought my entire body into a ready stance. I slowed my breathing and started listening. Hushed whispers were coming from the street and several pairs of feet shuffling by the ground. The door to the warehouse jerked open, and those people walked in.

My hideout spot was on the second level. I didn't expect anyone to come into this deserted building, but I was still cautious about choosing my lodging area. It was on the floor behind a huge pipe. The floor was made of wooden blocks. It was old construction and in between the bars, there were tiny gaps. In some places, the gaps were bigger than in others, enough to bring one's eye to it to see what was going on the first level.

Carefully, I rolled over not to make the floor squeak, and found just the right sized hole and looked into it. There stood four men, two of which were holding the flashlights. One of them had a baseball bat, and another one stood sobbing.

"We gave you two more weeks, Frankie. Boss was generous enough to the extent his kind offer for two weeks and three days," a nasal voice pronounced accompanying his words with a hit of the bed again's the guy's side.

"Ahhhh!" the guy cried out, making me clench my teeth along with my fists.

"Here's only a hundred, Frankie. You knew well who you make deals with," the voice spoke again.

"Plllleas -se, p-l-eaa-sse, pl-eaa-se," the guy stuttered. "I'll re-tur-n eee-veryt-thin-g I I I p-p-romi-se. It-t w-w-as mmy w-if-e. S-She t-took the m-m-money-y t-to buy f-f-ood."

"Frankie, Frankie..tsk, tsk. Because of your lovely wife, now you have to endure this punishment. Teach her some rules," I heard another sound of a hit and another full of pain yelp. "Don't you f*cking lose your consciousness on me, you piece of shit!" The guy made three more hits with the bat and dropped the bat on the ground. "Take care of this m*zaf*cker. If he is dead, then bury him behind the building. You, pick up the bat and clean it. I'll be in the car." The guys started walking away. "And don't take long!" were his last words.

I waited for the rest of them to leave and only then allowed myself to roll onto my back and take a full chest breath. My life couldn't get any better. From demons to mobs. Vive la vie! Or what has left of it.

I haven't stayed in that place for longer than another two hours. 

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