Trinity :- Chapter 5 :- Manipulation

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Chapter 5 :- Manipulation

RECAP:- Three prewritten scraps of paper; three lives irrevocably changed forever.

Richard Gamblin. Killed by his own guilt. Thierry Rossteau. Killed by his brother's self preservation. Tuomas. Can now see ghost's because of the car accident.

My guardian, Travis, has extricated Tuomas from the wreckage, and we are now headed north. I would feel like a chessmaster, had I not known this was all fated to occur anyway.

As a result, I feel sick. I create the means for free will to become possible, and instead humanity lets me down.

Again.

When a ghost is about to reach out and touch me, I can turn and face them. Look them in the eyes and act accordingly. Smile, grimace, or stare blank faced. Make them believe that I can see them; make them understand that I know everything. They realise that I am not a normal human. That I am different, and they can do nothing about it.

This can be a disconcerting experience for a real ghost. But the ghost that now speaks to Tuomas in the back seat of the car is not a real ghost at all, but a figment of imagination conjured in the unique mind of Tuomas.

And yet this figment has a mind of its own. It understands that it should not exist right now. It just does. It should not have a memory and emotions, and an understanding of the current situation, and yet he has all these things.

And right now he does not question any of it, for emotion is driving him onward.

Mark Rossteau looks down at his son, cowering and confused. With a flickering tone of disdain and contempt, he is about to harshly tell his son to rise up. If his son will not listen to the soothing calm father, then he had better listen to the father angered at being ignored. "Get up, you are my son, God damn you!"

Tuomas is trying to decipher the meaning of it all, the impossibility of what has just happened, and what is happening at this very moment. He hesitates, and for the first time, he actually stares at the ghost that resembles his father. For Tuomas, it is as though he has just stepped out of the photo he once had in his wallet; moustache and stubbled chin. Same shirt. Same indomitable, hardened expression.

Two questions shall now be said by him. "What is going on? Who are you?"

Travis is driving on, cringing visibly at what he percieves as the young man's insolence and immaturity.

Travis was never one to cry to. Especially if you were a man. It was a sign of weakness, a lack of guts. If the ghost of Mark Rossteau knew what was going through the mind of Travis, he would whole heartedly agree.

Travis will now compare me to the bewildered man on the backseat. "There is a little girl here in the passengers seat, and in all the years I have guarded her, I have only seen her cry once! Now you go into a petrol station, all rushing with adrenalin when you got a shotgun in your hands, you blow the attendant away like a big tough guy. Then when you runaway and get in an accident, with no shotgun to back you up, your a sorry, bawling mess! You're a poor excuse for a man! You bloody sissy!"

"I never killed him! It was my brother...... Oh god.....my brother is dead!" Tuomas is reeling at the memory, at the guilt of killing his brother.

Everything is progressing perfectly.

Mark Rossteau now yells at Tuomas, ashamed at what type of person his son has become. "I told you Thierry is with me now, in the afterlife. That he is fine! Do you listen? No! Instead you cry and carry on like a baby! Listen, damn you!"

The temperament of the men in this car is becoming endemic, a virulent malaise of testosterone and ego's that I had foreseen so long before tonight that it bores me.

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