Duskwood & Moonvale one-shots

A talisman of failure [Jake & Jake x MC, ⚠️]

TW: violence/murders
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"When I close my eyes, they haunt me."

"They?"

"They. People I didn't save. If I close my eyes , I can see their faces. That's why I try not to sleep."

Jake glanced at you, confused and sad, sitting next to him, hugging your knees. Then he took a deep breath and looked out the window. The soft sunset light enveloped his stooped figure, the wind gently ruffled his wet hair. He looked so lonely and confused at that moment that more than anything in the world you wanted to move over and hug him. Fearing to frighten off the awakening frankness, you remained motionless.

"Are there many such people?"

"I know seven people for sure. Hannah, who was so waiting for my help. People whose names I didn't have time to find out. And..." you saw how his lips were trembling, and you could barely restrain the urge to rush into his arms in an attempt to ease the pain a little. "And my mother."

"Will you tell me about them? Perhaps it will be easier for you if you stop keeping your secrets."

Jake sighed barely audibly and muttered something - you didn't hear and moved a little closer to him.

"She didn't want to fight anymore. You know who I am to Hannah. I found out before everything happened. At that time, only we had each other."

His voice was barely audible, and even if you strained your ears, you couldn't make out everything. You looked at the lips, trying to read the quietest words. It would be inhumane to ask for a repeat.

"I've admired her for as long as I can remember. So strong and so kind. The only person close to me... It has always been quite difficult for me to cope with society, but it is easy with computers. I almost lived in my virtual world and everything was fine. Others needed a strange nerd only for homework. At least until the photos of one particularly unpleasant person became public domain. You understand. No, I'm not proud of it, but it's already a part of me. I was careful, and no one could prove it, although everyone knew. Although, maybe they would have proved it if someone more serious had taken up the case. Alright. So my "work" began and I liked it, I improved. But, believing in his elusiveness, I made mistakes. Because of my "work", the police came to our house for the first time. I don't know how my mother managed to settle all this, but right after she called me to her.

I remember this conversation as now. A small warm kitchen, a drooping mother, the glare of light from the setting sun in her sad eyes. I tried to think of excuses, hundreds of thoughts flashed through my head, but none seemed right. I was trembling, hugging myself, and waiting for her words. After all, she will say that I failed her, did not meet her expectations. But when she finally spoke...

'You're looking for yourself and trying to get attention that I can't give you. I know that it's not easy and lonely for you. Would you like to know about your father?'

'Why, if I... he doesn't need us?'

'He doesn't know that you are. I never told him.'

'But why?'

'A combination of circumstances. Let's put your energy in a positive direction. I'll just give you some hints. We were the same age. His lastname is Donfort and...' she left the room, only to return a few minutes later with a photo - old and a little battered. My mother is very young there, with bright eyes. I saw a man for the first time. That's when I started searching, using both publicly available methods and what I managed to learn. I plunged into this investigation, forgetting about real life, not noticing... and when one day I ran home, dreaming of sharing that I had found a trace, the police and an ambulance were already there. I hope you don't know this feeling. When just looking at something gives rise to a vague anxiety in your soul, and you know that something terrible has happened... But you try to convince yourself that "terrible" concerns anyone, but not you. Deep down in your soul, you already know everything, but the ground still goes out from under your feet when you see a hand that has escaped from under the sheet.