Chapter 518: 518. PR FUNK (by Montagem- slowed and reveerb)
Henry’s POV
"Wake up." Not daring to touch him, I stood up, pacing up and down.
"I’m scared." I covered my ears with my gloved hands, trying to block out the whisper that turned louder and louder.
"Wake up." I felt the shadowy energy growing along my arms, devouring me just as my emotions did.
"Wake up." Closer to the bed, then I stepped away.
"Now."
My presence is dangerous to you, but I can’t leave you.
"Wake up."
-Or I will make you.
"Now."
-Or I will get rid of all the colors.
I pressed my hands so forcefully against my ears that I heard the crystalline barrier around my hands cracking.
-Of everything and everyone.
Up and down, I walked along the windows, kicking one of the chairs only to see it disappear in shadowy energy.
I looked at the view while hearing the whisper, the music, the beat—so loud it was deafening.
I touched my stomach, not feeling the familiar rustling... Yeah, I had showered in the meantime.
The humming came deep from within my bones, the vibration bringing out all the ugly little thoughts locked away.
But my drawings, my confessions, and my paper planes were already gone when I took the shower. Gone.
All the filth was brought to the surface.
Secured under my clothes, they had been with me on the plane—where had they gone?
My gloves were acidified right before my eyes, the whisper so loud it hurt.
In the circus, they weren’t there because Kenny put other, revealing clothes on me. He had given me a pool of paper planes instead.
I watched as a deep black—not smoke-like, but a darkness that was thick and sticky—covered my hands, not a glimpse of my skin in sight.
The drawings were still nowhere found when I fought the Maestro.
An ability that destroyed everything on contact—how fitting.
Still gone when I fought the blind Birdman—when my clothes from the plane were restored because I lost contact with Kenny and the circus space—left behind in the Maestro’s World.
An ability that fed on the suffering of others—how matching.
|"Hannibal and Emilia Devin, am I right? I am so sorry for your loss. Have you been informed about the financial mattters?"|
But the drawings reappeared when we left the circus space.
In hindsight, I can remember the rustling as I bent over Kenny to give him CPR; I just hadn’t noticed then with more urgent matters at hand.
|"I DON’T WANT THE MONEY, I WANT MY PARENTS!" The loud, shrill voice of a young girl.
The laughter of a young boy taking a check.
"Hahaa! Look at that money! Ahahah! We are rich!"|
The darkness devoured the crystals at a far faster pace than they could rebuild.
If they had been there after the circus incident, but not while fighting the Birdman—it meant that back then, I had never really lost the connection to Kenny. A sliver of contact had still been there.
Enough for him to eventually bring me back to his space.
|"We don’t need them! It’s good! It’s alright! We can do what we want!" More crisp laughter.
"Don’t you want chocolate? Burgers every day? A big house?" The young boy grabbing his sister fervently.
"Isn’t it good like this?"
"Isn’t it—|
The darkness had wandered up my arms, acidified my clothes, my skin, and my bones.
Where was this sliver of connection now?
Where did I put them?
How could they still exist when everything I touch would disappear from me forever?
|—alright like this?" The boy’s hands burrowed in his sister’s thin shoulders, the check crumbling between his palm and her reddened skin.|
Up my arms, along my shoulders, the pain soon turned into numbness as it spread from my shoulders down to my chest, continuing to acidify my clothes, my skin, and my bones.
Where are they? Where did I put them?
|"Mr. Devin! Hannibal! Let go of her, boy, you are hurting her!" The man that had appeared at the empty funeral home separated them while the woman that had been accompanying them stepped back, covering her mouth in shock.
The boy, looking up at him, grinned, chirping a word.
"No."|
No.
|"They are gone,...|
They are gone.
The moment I retracted the shadowy energy at the crash site, they had been acidified.
|...killed,... |
Killed.
|...Hannibal and Emilia died with them. My name is...|
"Henry?"
The shadow energy spread throughout my whole body, from my chest to my stomach, down my legs, and to my feet.
"Henry??"
All so that I could still witness what was happening to me, seeing my whole body dissolve, with not one bit of color in sight.
The acid spread upward to my neck, and I knew that this was the end.
The sticky darkness crawled, wandered across my face, enveloping my hair, my brain.
Devouring me with skin and bones.
|...Henry."|
"Henry?"
My vision returned, my eyes were open. I saw red eyes looking at me from the bed.
A collar around his neck, daylight coming through the clouds outside, illuminating the room.
Numb, my body moved automatically as my hands had when on his chest, as my feet as they brought us through the mountains.
I jumped up and walked to his side.
"How are you feeling?"
Talking worked; I was not sure if I had been dreaming just now or if I was dreaming at this moment.
I moved, gave water, and continued to talk.
"I missed you."
A slight jolt drove through my body before disappearing into the darkness, devoured into numbness again.
"I missed you too."
But the fear couldn’t be extinguished.
Of his power going out of control again.
Of him disappearing.
Of him dying.
The ’whisper’ broke through, speaking from my mouth,
"Don’t use your powers. Don’t even attempt to use them." A primal instinct overtook me; the urgency returned ever so slightly.
And so did the relief at his reaction.
First, he didn’t seem to notice that the collar didn’t work. Did that mean he couldn’t use his power? Was the placebo effect enough?
Was it enough if he wouldn’t even attempt to use his power?
Then the speedy acceptance.
He had meant what he had said inside the hollow tree—he really wanted to lock me up too. And because of that, he understood me.
Because of that, he didn’t hate me.
Didn’t seem to want to run away.
And the resentment welled up too, ever so slightly.
If you understood me so well... how could you...?
Why couldn’t you withstand the curse that I brought with me? For everyone to die on me?
And what would happen... if I touched you again?
It didn’t seem real—not long ago, a cold corpse; now moving, breathing, having a heartbeat.
I was nearly sure that when I felt my body dissolve fully, it had been reality.
And that this was a mirage—the attempt of a ’heaven’ after my death that ended up being hell instead, because I had to keep my distance.
No. Hell was when he died on me. As long as he is not dead, it doesn’t matter.
Instead of my full body, the darkness only reached to my elbows now.
Unsure what to do, I knew one thing: I couldn’t let him escape.
For the first time since the night before the plane crash, I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep not long after we had talked.
When I came to, I watched him sleep—my captive, my hostage, my prey.
And Kenny... did what he always does after he woke up not long after.
Effortlessly fulfilling all my wishes one by one.
