The Tale of Junazahite: Dance with the Devil

Chapter Four: The Ally

4. Junazahite is the bringer of the night. The night is either full of gleaming stars or as dark and hollow as the Ultimate Abyss—the endless pit of excruciating agony.

The weather was hotter and more unbearable in the basement. Reymond had taken his shirt off and lay on the dusty ground, with some parts of his skin burnt by the boiling water. John was leaning against the wall, feeling his sweat moving on his skin. He didn't care how hot it was. The only thing that mattered to him was his sister. Still, he couldn't believe that he was Junazahite. It seemed like a stupid hope, but it was the only thing that brought him comfort. He wasn't able to predict the future, and it was both tormenting and terrifying. He had to go home and tell his parents what had happened. They must have been devastated, thinking John was dead, during the workers' rebellion. They had already been suffering from Joan's loss enough.

"Man!" Reymond whispered, breaking the silence. "So many things happened in these two days. It doesn't even seem real at all."

John remained silent. He had nothing to say.

"You know," Reymond continued. "I have nobody but you in my life. If I ever die, no one would care but you. I'm lucky that I have you."

"Why are you saying this?" John asked quietly, a hint of concern in his voice.

"My point is that I can't lose you. I can't let them execute you, John. I hope you're Junazahite. It will be our ticket to survival."

"It won't," John said calmly but bitterly, biting his lips.

He was reluctant to reveal the truth, but reviling it now would be better than when it was too late.

"What do you mean?" he asked, looking at John's eyes in the darkness.

"They want to kill Junazahite. I don't know exactly why. My dad didn't tell me the whole truth. If they think that there's a chance that I might be Junazhite, they will be after me. They won't stop haunting me down until I'm dead."

"I hate this!" Reymond said angrily, trying to keep his voice down. "Tell me what we have done wrong that we're going through this! I want to have a peaceful life. Is it too much to ask? Why can they do whatever they want and not face justice? It's not fair! It's not fair at all!"

"I'm sorry," John whispered, trying to stay calm. "It has always been this way. I wanted to stay away from the chaos, but now I'm in the center of it. I'm worried about you and my parents. I don't want you to die because of me. I hope I'm Junazahite so I can protect you. But maybe it will be better if I'm not. Although I wouldn't be able to bring back my sister, you might be safe. I really don't know, Reymond. I think I'm out of my mind!"

He was shaking, clutching his knees with a fierce grip, not wanting to admit that he was petrified. The dead face of Joan still haunted him. Every time he blinked, he saw the torn-up body of hers. And he couldn't stop thinking about her mother and the agony she was enduring, the array of scars in hues of red, yellow, and black on her fragile body, and also the regretful face of his father, begging him for forgiveness. The dreadful image of Mr. Nial and his smashed body like a broken plastic doll was vividly in his mind. The fact that he really killed a human being was suffocating him. He felt as though he couldn't bear in his skin. He wanted to tear apart his flesh and somehow set himself free.

"Don't worry, John," Reymond said thoughtfully, not seeing the fear in John's face. "Do you remember the first time we met? We were both new in that bloody absorber. I was from the church, so the other workers didn't trust me. And you were infamous for your gone wealth. When we became friends, we spontaneously helped each other out. We became a perfect duo. So, don't be worried. We protect each other at all costs."