Voidstalker

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Left it All Behind

My footsteps echoed from the floor as I pattered home. School was over and it felt like millennia had passed. I looked at the ground as I walked, watching water flow through the cracks in the sidewalk. Rain poured over me, bringing a chill that seeped into my bones. But I paid no mind to it.

As I exited the school courtyard and stepped out of the gate, I heard their hushed whispers. They spoke as if I couldn't hear them. As if I was deaf.

I knew what they said.

"Have you heard? An entire train's worth of passengers was killed. He was the only survivor."

"I bet it was him" a girl said. "He's creepy. And I don't think I've ever looked at him in the face."

"Does he always cover his face?" a guy chimed in. "Because I don't remember ever getting a look. Maybe we all subconsciously avert our eyes."

Then the first person said something that I was used to hearing.

"I don't want to be near him. He'll probably curse us all."

They were right.

Anyone who became my friend died. And I never understood why.

It doesn't matter. None of it did. The only thing I had that belonged to me was my name, Vali.

For all my life, I have been cursed with misfortune. It was inexplicable, almost supernatural. Things beyond all understanding always happened to me and everyone around me.

I don't think a single good thing has ever happened. That's why I stay away from people.

The only friends I ever had were dead because of me.

I was a stain in existence.

The whispers of the other students melded into one cacophonous voice, brushing against my ear, as if reminding me of what I was and the fate I couldn't escape. And even after I left the school, the voice never stopped.

***

A Week Ago

I was taking the train home when the tragedy happened.

I scrolled through my phone, scoffing at the ongoing events occurring around the world.

"What a joke," I muttered, seeing previous tragedies that happened because of my mere presence. "Fucking fate. If it truly exists, then it's a bitch."

The woman sitting next to me frowned when she heard my language. She was wearing a blouse and black leggings that looked professional. "You're saying this a little too loud, young man."

"Then ignore me," I rolled my eyes.

Her frown hardened. "That's awfully rude. Are you upset over something?"

"What does it look like?"

She shook her head indignantly. The woman studied me for a moment, her eyes narrowing in recognition. "You're that kid. Vali. The one who is always found in crime scenes where dozens of people die."

I sighed. "I'm surprised you recognized me."

"It's hard to look at your face," she noted. "It's like I naturally want to avert my eyes."

"Everyone feels that way," I said crossly. "I'm used to it."

"Did you do it?" she asked softly.

"Do what?"

"Kill those people."

The cabin was packed to the brim, an interlocked mass of people either sitting down or holding on to one of the bars to steady themselves.