Duskwood: under cover of dusk (English)

#3. The sunbeams

I know who writes to me as 'unknown'. I know for sure, but I don't have to — Richy tells me in confidence — so I have to come up with nicknames on the fly and try to push him to admit it. 'I am Jake, Ana.' Difficult? I don't think so. But instead, he changes his profile name — as he once did before with those mysterious question marks — and even his avatar. I wonder if he took a picture himself, or if he just found a picture in a hurry. More likely the second version: a person under a sheet with a single — middle — finger sticking out... Somehow it doesn't fit with the character of my hacking monster. Maybe he just didn't have time to find something better. I'm a little slow to answer the question, looking at the avatar and hesitating. Is it safe to him — call me? And in general, it is not in his style to communicate with non-text messages. It's kind of weird. Did something happen there?

•°•°•°

Ana [4:10]:
Well... If there's no problem with that
Call me 🙂

•°•°•°

It is as if he is waiting for this response and doesn't doubt it — the video call starts as soon as the message is marked as read. I wait for a few seconds, biting my lip. So... now will I be able to hear for the first time the person I fell in love with? Or even see him? Gosh, my hands are shaking... Still, I touch the reply button.

The screen shows only darkness and a couple of turquoise flashes — as a soft brush was passed over the stones, trying to avoid pressure. Oh yeah, this is my dear hacker person and his tricks. And he's still silent, even though he wants to talk. What's the point, bro?

"Okay, are you there, ghost? I don't hear anything."

"I am here, Ana," the voice says, startling me.

Not mechanical, but very real. Quiet and slightly hoarse, soft. What a feeling... Listening the voice I can imagine that he sitting there, squeezing my hand lightly. Geez, I must be completely out of my mind to imagine this.

"It's just because when it does not involve an investigation and clearly defined rules, it's hard for me to collect my thoughts."

"Then let me start, I have a lot of questions," I smile, not even knowing if he can see. "How are you feeling, dear ghost? If you're up so late, something must be wrong."

All I can hear is a soft, raucous laugh from the speaker. It seems that something is moving on the screen, but it is almost impossible to see what it is. I just raise an eyebrow — what's so funny about my words? I just show a little concern, and he laughs. Although... He never knows when I'm serious and when I'm joking.

"It's quite good. Definitely better than I expected from the beginning. Right now, I am in roughly the same position as I was when I first went on the run four years ago. But the second time is easier."

"Yeah... And you don't need my help at all?"

He laughs again, but this time... Why do I feel like he's not having fun at all? What's going on out there in the dark woods where my prodigal ghost is resting now?

"I am an open book to you, aren't I?"

"Nope. You're a three-and-a-half-inch floppy disk — rare and unreadable. I never know what's on your mind."

This... It's starting to get annoying. He doesn't take any of my words seriously at all? Laughing again! What's wrong with him anyway? What do I need to say in order to hear something different in response?

"You know, I'll be offended if you keep laughing at my words."

"I am sorry. I did not mean to offend you in any way. It's just... I am having a lot of fun with you for some reason. This usually does not happen."