The Keeper Exams

Chapter Six - Colors of the Music

Noah Spooner

The first things Noah heard were the colors.
They swiveled around in his mind like a calm lullaby. He could associate the colors with instruments, with various styles of music, both loud and gentle.
Blue was grunge. The sound of drums pounded in his ears.
Red was baroque pop.
Green was punk.
Yellow was just a stream of piano notes.
Noah could hear a musical rainbow. He was given a vivid gift.
But he was also given a sightless curse.
Noah was blind.
His eyes were just blank. The colors he heard would flash through his mind for a brief moment before they disappeared. He couldn't however, see anything. When he passed by a rough bark of wood, he heard violins.
Brown.
When he felt his way through a thick area of undergrowth, he heard punk.
Green.
And this was how he made his way to the middle of the forest. He didn't remember his name or where he was from, but he couldn't find a hint of care. He experimented with his newfound ability. Soon, he learned how to use it to his profit.
But he was still blind.
Noah heard a dirge playing through the air. Black. A bit of baroque pop mixed in with the dirge. Black and red. The music became louder by the second. Something wrapped around Noah's legs, sending him falling into thorn bushes.
"Who are you?" a male voice said.
"I don't know," Noah said. He kicked and prised, but the boy wouldn't let go.
"You're Noah, aren't you?" the boy said. "Where's Millicent?"
"Who is Millicent?"
"Did you kill her?" the boy said. "Oh, my god, you killed her!"
His voice was hysterical. If Noah had sight, he would probably have seen a pair of crazy eyes staring down at him.
And just like that, Noah's spine lifted upward in a painful stretch. His cries blended with the words the boy was yelling out.
"You bastard! You killed Millicent! What the hell did you do to her?"
"I don't know who she is! Go away! What are you doing to me?"
He lay there helpless as his bones tore away from their sockets. They were then reattached just to be torn away again.
A part of Noah's memory had reappeared. He remembered the exact same thing being done to another boy. A park, a swirling merry-go-round, a boy rocking on a swing...
Noah was a monster.
He was a tormentor.
He was a physical.
He turned around, and swung his leg at the boy. The bones in his body jimmied, but he sat up as much as he could. He threw a punch at the boy, feeling something like a nose crack and bleed under his knuckles. He raised his arm like a man about to forgive.
But what came next was just a bout of screams.
This continued for a few minutes. Noah felt a new surge of strength, the boy twisting under his feet. But it was all gone when Noah saw spots of gray cloud his unseeing eyes. Trumpets blew in his ears like a storm. There was thumping, there was bashing. A slight jazz tune played out in his ears. This wasn't music. This was utter chaos.
And it was nearing like a stampede.
The boy whispered, "Elephants." Noah felt his whole mind freeze. The music was obscured by his inability to think.
The boy's voice was clearer. "Elephants."
The noise was deafening. They were so close and so dangerous.
Without a thought, Noah picked up the boy and turned around. He darted through the hurtful thorn bushes. The boy dangled in Noah's arms. He turned left and zipped straight head. Colors dashed into him along with music, feeling like painful punches and kicks. There was violet, there was peach. There was no more gray.
He did not know for how long he had been running. The trumpets had faded, and Noah finally dropped to his knees. The boy's chest stretched against Noah's hand; he was still alive, but possibly out cold.
Noah placed him on the floor. If he hadn't picked the boy up, the elephants would have smashed his head in. That would have made Noah's task easier, but Noah didn't leave him there to die.
He could kill him now. He eventually needed to kill the boy anyway, and he wasn't an ally. But Noah's mind was diverted. He had too many colors slamming into him, and he needed to close his eyes.
He needed to rest. Too much music wasn't good for the eyesight.