What Memory Remains

Chapter 7

“What seems to be the problem, Dr. Monroe?” Sade asked as she led him down the hall.

“I really need you to speak with Zenapharr. He’s…having issues.” she said solemnly. “He talking about wanting to die, and I don’t know how to get through to him. I thought maybe you could talk to him since you’re an old friend of his. Maybe you could console him in some way or calm him down.”

“Has he been doing anything strange? Did he hurt someone?”

 “He didn’t hurt anyone, but he’s acting strange, talking about death like it’s the only answer. It’s better to see it for yourself. Also, he confessed there to be a voice in his head that speaks to him, which seems to be what encourages him to kill. At first, I thought his realization of this could lead to progress. Yet, his objective of exonerating himself by doing this has only made him more guilt-stricken. He’s much sicker than we originally thought. I think he’s emotionally overwhelmed after suppressing his emotion for so long…maybe some companionship would help.”

“Of course, doctor. Anything to help.”

“Would it be too strange…with your falling out and everything?”

“We should be fine. It was a long time ago. Perhaps burying the hatchet is just what we need.”

As she escorted him through the hospital-white corridors of the facility, Sade ran his hands over his dark stubble as he made his way through. He was a normally a man of a debonair look, all topped off with shoulder-length brown hair and a handsome crooked smile. Yet today, his expression was tight and unnerved, knowing he would be talking to the very serial killer he apprehended. Zenapharr’s emotional instability alone was a factor for concern, and had some additional things going on that weren't there before.

At any rate, Zenapharr had been short yet very genial with him during the arrest. As he pondered over the conversation he was going to have, he thought back on how they first met..

Six Years Earlier

A younger, doe-eyed Zenapharr walked into the barracks alongside his recruiter, being shown all around the military grounds. Sade was tidying up his bunk, chewing the fat with his fellow bunk mates. Immediately, he sensed the awkwardness in Zenapharr. It wasn’t ineptitude or that he seemed “touched,” it was more of a sense that he was a loner. Although he wasn’t sure why, but he sensed that Zenapharr preferred it that way. There was a difference about his aura, as if an ethereal puzzle of his being was missing.

 “Check out the newbie,” his mate Stroud said. “He’s an elf! How crazy is that? Never thought I’d’ see one of those around here.”

“Yeah, I know, “Sade agreed.

“Maybe talking to the earth was getting too old for him,” another mate Wade scoffed. “My arms are so tired from hugging trees! Maybe humans are worth talking to!”

“Yeah.” Sade said, more unsure this time. He was not so keen on the aspect of judging others. As uptight as some viewed Sade, he never liked to jump to conclusions about people. He had become wise enough in life already to understand that people could always surprise with you, as humans were complex. Humans held many different sides to them, and this probably proved true for elves as well.

Growing up, people always talked about how elves were way too fascinated with nature, didn’t fit in with normal society, and generally talked about as if they carried a disease. This was moreso in the North, as the South having more forests tended to result in more elves living there herego society had more interaction with them. He’d never personally had a chance to speak with one, always shied away from them by his parents. Elves were naturally more adept to magic as well, which is also why Northerners seemed to dislike them so much.