Death's Overture

Chapter 4~ Truth & Story

Light entered into the "Broken Symmetry", illuminating the dim-lit corners of the small room filled with books, tablets, papers and other things holding the same significance as the previous ones.

On a particularly good day, one could easily smell the scent of old travels, of forgotten history, of pained yet warm, rich and deep words, of wood and of paper mills. One could feel the beauty and loneliness of others as well as their excitement, one could smell the satisfaction as well as the pain yet it was not meant for today for if someone did stop by, he could only feel animosity, hunger and pain; one could not smell anything except blood and burnt flesh, perceive nothing but the pain and horror of death, experience nothing except the terror of torment.

As Kronic underwent these emotions, in front of him stood a dark, thinking face, a blank face devoid of emotions and empathy yet capable of becoming one which was capable of thought.

Trace thought of every instance he had spent during his days of travelling and hiding, of times when information about him could be leaked, about his identity being exposed yet as he delved deeper into his thoughts, he became more doubtful as to what could have revealed his place of hiding and identity.

At last, being tired and frustrated, he opted the easy way out; he looked towards his captive and asked 'How did you find me?' his tone implying that he was in no mood to bicker around.

'I-I found about you from some information dealers.' Kronic said stammering, his eyes avoiding a direct confrontation.

'Now listen!' Trace said as he held the knife tightly to his captive's neck. 'Don't beat around the bush, the next time you do it, I will give you something worse than death.' his tone implying certainty.

"Mediator!" Kronic said, his voice shaking under the pressure of the blade. 'He told me about your whereabouts.'

As Trace heard those words, his mind delved into his thoughts, his body now numb, numb enough to get easily disarmed yet Kronic did not move, his body frozen with fear. As he tried to move away, he heard a laugh which sounded deranged to his ears, one which he thought had happiness in it however in that silence he could tell that the laugh which he heard was nothing but empty, devoid of all emotions.

'Mediator!' Trace exclaimed, as he contained his laugh. 'Be my guest then.' He said to the man who stood in front of him as he pointed a finger towards the chair which rested next to the counter.

He quickly withdrew his blade and moved towards the door of the shop, his face back to that of a jovial store owner.

Kronic felt dumbfounded at the current events which got unfolded in front of his eyes, flustered as to what happened.

'Do you prefer to stand?' Trace asked as he pointed towards the seat, implying that he wanted him to be seated. He now moved towards the other end of the shop, the only place where shelves were not covered with books.

Kronic stood still, refusing the offer to sit, thinking of what could have caused this sudden change of heart, as he thought of the events and tried connecting them he heard his dark voice again, the same voice which carried the weight of death.

'Did you not hear me or did you prefer the earlier treatment?' Trace said his eyes dark yet again, his voice at an edge of anger.

Kronic got seated quickly, fear outweighing and nullifying his other emotions completely.

'Good enough.' Trace clapped gleefully as he simultaneously handed bandages to the man he had just cut. He consequently dragged a chair from the opposite side and assumed his position, a line of curiosity and excitement now settled on his face.