(The New) Power of the 8 Elements: Part Two

Chapter Sixteen: Breaking Out

"When the storytelling goes bad in a society, the result is decadence," Aristotle
PRESENT DAY
CELESTE

"Thrax...Thrax!" I repeat his name till I get his attention.

He seems distracted, but not in a good way. It's in the sense that something is seriously bothering him, and I wonder what is on his mind if not something terrible.

"We found something," I explain, and I invite to come over to our table where we have three-ring open binder from what Lucifer and Terry have also uncovered.

"Would you look at that," Thrax says. "You were somewhat right."

As I suspected, Curtis' name was in the list of people who'd stumbled upon the foundation by accident. They even had his school pictured taped among the other young adults who were probably dead because of the same mistake.

"Wait, look at that," Terry says, pointing at the bullet points under his photo. Unlike the others that read: DECEASED. His said: LIVING (pending execution). They didn't know...

"Seems they weren't aware of Curtis' death," Lucifer says. "He was affiliated with them, but they didn't kill him."

"How?" I asked, still in denial.

"Christlie Solace isn't in this book either," Terry adds.

"So the deaths aren't connected," Thrax says.

"Great, that was a complete waste of time. I'm sorry, Thrax," I say. I attempt to apologize politely, but out of the corner of my eye, I catch Lucifer rolling his own.

"It's fine," Thrax says. "Let's just get the f*ck out of here."

As we begin to return to the elevator, there's a crashing sound behind us. We all get the same idea and draw our weapons. It's not a person (fortunately); a book had fallen off the shelf. I bend down to pick it up—which is starting to become a slightly tiring task, I've noticed and study the book for a second.

"SCP Files," I say.

"Now that contains all of the SCP's in this Foundation. You'd f*ck them up so bad if you stole that sh*t."

"Why don't we?" I say, finding the idea not only amusing but ingenious.

"Yeah...why don't we!" Thrax says, taking the book, stretching his jaw like a boa constrictor, and swallowing it whole.

My face falls as I finally begin to process what he just did. I feel like rubbing my eyes and blinking to open them and see the book in Thrax's hands. No...he actually swallowed the d*mn book.

"Paper tastes disgusting not gonna lie," He says, licking his fingers like there's grease on them. He presses the button to the elevator, and we all pile inside, deeply disturbed.

I take the risk for us all and ask the question we're all thinking, "H-how are we going to get it back?"

"I'll regurgitate it later," he responds casually.

"Okay," I say with a shudder.

I hope the book is still in somewhat of a stable condition for me to read it.

You can't sterilize binders, can you? I ask myself.

As soon as the elevator doors open, we are greeted with guns. Scientists—like the ones at our school—stand in front of us, armed with hateful expressions on their face. They want to kill us; I know, and I begin to regret coming here as well as pestering Thrax when he warned me that these people didn't mess around.

"Hands up, behind your head. Wings out."

Terry and Lucifer reluctantly spread their wings, and the sight leaves the soldier's in awe. A green-eyed, auburn haired woman pushes her way past the crowd of gun-wielding guards. She recognizes us all.