The Ranch

Slumber Party (4)

(Warning: The Slumber Party Arc will talk about some dark and disturbing things. You've been warned)

"But, wait a moment! Doesn't that mean whoever brought us here also knows about Victor's speciality?" Theodore frowns imperceptibly, only enough for Tih to notice.

"And if reincarnation exists..." He doesn't continue. The implications are too much to handle all at once.

"ᵂʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱˢˡᵃⁿᵈ'ˢ ᵖᵘʳᵖᵒˢᵉ." Basile mumbles.

A moment of silence ensues.

"Well...we'll have time to figure that out in the future. As for tonight, I don't think we should waste any more time, considering how long it took just to get through two people." Victor brings everyone back to the present. They nod.

"Then I'll go next," offers Sherlock. Victor glances at him.

"It's not nearly as extravagant Victor's but...I...also remember my past life." Sherlock shows a sheepish smile.

He recalls the slightly embarrassing moment that he needs to open with, then remembering the following sequence of events and becomes melancholic.

"...As a kid, I was quite energetic. I would always look for something new to play with and one day I discovered the washing machine. I was rolling in it when a pile of clothes was stuffed in. I got trapped in the back and my mother shut the door and started the machine before I could scream for help.I clawed my way to the front, feeling increasingly dizzy. I pushed and hit the door but it wouldn't budge. I banged on the glass, calling out for help. That's when I saw my mother, staring at me from behind the glass. I managed to catch a hint of hesitation in her eyes while I cried for help. But the hesitation must've quickly left as she walked away, out of sight.

When her guilt overwhelmed her an hour later, she pulled me out of the bloody and vomit-smelling clothes and took me to the hospital as I went in and out of consciousness.

I fully woke up a day later, dressed in a clean hospital gown, with wounds covering my body. She was in front of me, guilt and regret filled her eyes, but this wasn't the last time.

There were other incidents, and various officers have been called by concerned school staff or neighbors. She would be terrified, scared that the consequences would catch up to her actions, before seducing the officer or inspector into bed to keep them quiet.

After each incident, I would regain more memories...actually, the only reason she was eventually caught was because I had sent undeniable proof to multiple offices relating to my case, including child protection services, media companies, and police stations. I did this multiple times, but it was only after I released information about the child service officers exchanging sexual service to keep quiet that it caught any attention and was shown on a news program. I gained public sympathy and my mother was eventually taken away, and the officers involved were fired.

I was placed in adoption afterwards, but I was well-known enough that anyone who knew about me wouldn't want to take me in. Their reasoning being that I would grow up to become like her? They were opinions based on fear and doubt. Fear that I would become like her and doubt that I had no fault. Ah...there were a few people that believe I caused her mental instability, or as they referred to it, insanity." He ends with a nonchalant voice, like the person he's talking about isn't him but someone else.

They take a moment of silence out of respect before asking a few questions.

"So...in your past life, who were you? What kind of world did you live in?"

Sherlock's emotions seem stable after talking about his story. He answers with a quirk of his mouth,"Says it right in the title, doesn't it. It's not like I was born in this world with the name Sherlock."

"You, you're saying you were Sherlock Holmes in your past life?! But he's a book character? How would..."

"Exactly. Unless someone else also remembers their past life and wrote the book." Sherlock concludes. It can be seen that's he's gone over this by himself before.

"So Sir Arthur Conan Doyle- But to know everything in such detail..."

"Well there's no way to ask a dead person." Sherlock shrugs, having already thought of this," Anyways, we can think about this later, for now let's move on to the next person."

They look between each other, waiting for the next person to step up. The crinkling of a plastic wrapper attracts everyone's attention to Basile, who just put a cinnamon bun in his mouth.

"I go next?" He speaks in between chews as he points at himself. His throat bulges as he swallows a large amount of food at once.

Clearing his mouth, he begins by opening his white palm in from of him. The next moment, a lollipop appears on top.

He hands the lollipop to Tih as he explains,"A storage space that only I can access, but I've only been using it to store food, because time stops in it."

Everyone looks wide-eyed while Tih crinkles the wrapper of the lollipop and puts it in his mouth. It's grape flavor.

Basile continues," I was born in a village of dark-skinned, brown-eyed people. My pale skin was an anomaly, and my red eyes made me an abomination. My parents decided to continue raising me, against the will of the village.

When I was around eight, things started disappearing around me. It happened too many times for it to be a coincidence, so I was blamed for many cases of theft over the years, but I didn't have a clue what was going on at the time, not that they believed me.

My parents abandoned any expectations for me and I was known as the town's devil child. Townspeople scorned parents for raising such a thing and they eventually sent me to a detention center to be "rehabilitated".

I was "pushed around" by the guys there... suffice to say, some didn't bother with gender and some preferred them young. With my unique looks, I was a favorite. One time my emotions got too riled up and I ended up killing the guy. They were going to send me to jail, but one of those men in the black military suits bailed me out and put me on the bus."

The last part was said as nonchalantly as Sherlock. There was no emotion in Basile's voice.

"...people really like making assumptions...don't they." Basile looks towards Sherlock. Sherlock looks down.

Victor silently takes Basile's hand into his own, as if to say "it's okay, everything's fine now." Victor hadn't known anything about Basile's, nor did Basile know his.

Basile: Human vending machine go brrr

Tih: ( º﹃º )