HAUNTED
fifteen

15

“It’s all my fault,” Jacob mumbled in thought.

“What is,” Old John stumbled in through the kitchen door passage with a bright yellow raincoat dripping on the floor, removing his rubber boots.

“Everything,” he sighed out and slouched in his seat. He was there that night. He was in the road. Her parents avoided him in the road, and swerved into the tree. He was there. “I made the virus. I got manipulated by the Queen. I got us reincarnated. I…”

“You aren’t… things just fall to the big man’s plan.” He put his raincoat on a hook and wore some old people slippers.

“God,” Jacob chuckled cynically then sighed saddened.

“You should know he is real. After all you have met him before,” Jacob looked up at him, the first time in the conversation and watching John walk towards the table.

“Met him?”

“How do you think you got reincarnated,” he groaned as he took a seat. Thunder roared outside as the rain silenced to a shower. “When she died,” he sighed, “you where the saddest sight I had ever seen. You died with her, yet somehow breath still graced your lungs and blood still coursed through your veins. You begged and pleaded with God… for days. Everyone thought you had lost your mind and left to continue the vision and followed the Queen,” he took in a rusted breath, “I stayed, I had known you since you were a little feller,” he went quiet for a moment disturbed by Jacob’s unwavering attention.

“Gabriel had warned you before, about what you were dwelling in. The whole winged business,” the old man broke the brief silence.

“Gabriel?” John had mentioned him in the car.

“Yes, the legendary angel guy,” John adjusted himself in his seat, “you never said what he said to you exactly. All I know is you did not speak to me for days just locked up in your room working on that gismo. Then when you were done you gave it to me and died in your sleep that night.”

“I remember that,” John placed the gismo thing on the table. Jacob took it, “I hope it works.”

“What does it do?”

“Change time,” Jacob answered.

“Do not tamper with time!” John sounded angry, “last time you tampered with genes and look what you did.”

Jacob looked at him like a scolded child, “what happened to the big man’s plan?” Jacob smiled, “I need to do this.”

“Same thing you said last time,” he sighed.

“My work is not yet done,” he sighed, “I don’t know what that is supposed to mean but I remember those words being said to me. There is no use asking ‘why me?’ is there.”

“I think your gismo is broken,” it looked like a pocket watch with seven hands varying in size. There were runes and numbers and markings he didn’t understand on the clock face. It had three knobs and button at the top. All metal and encased with a pocket watch lid that hinged open and closed.

“I’ll fix it.” He stood up, all his attention on the gismo walked up stairs. There was a door with a clear label ‘John’s Room’ then other rooms. He stumbled into the one with an open door. “Lex, I know what it is,” he smiled, excited.

She walked out of the bathroom with a short towel wrapped around her body, all the concerning bits covered barely, hair wet, “okay, great. How does it solve things?” he flipped the chunky object about and took a seat.

“It needs some modifications,” he seemed caught in his own world, “I wonder if John will let us stay a couple of days so I can fix it up… I need to remember more.”

She looked through the draws for something to wear that is less revealing than the towel. “Everything in this draw is ancient, I don’t want to die in any of this,” Jacob looked up and smiled.

“Finally, she wants to live,” he looked at her… heart pumping… he stood up abruptly, “let me go ask John if there is anything for you to wear.” He swallowed heavy and dashed out leaving the gismo on the bed.

“Ask if he can get my bag from evidence,” she yelled after him as he bolted out of the room. He worped to the car and got her bag, John had told him that’s where he would find it. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“Got it,” he said when he was back. John sighed and grumbled like an old person as he dragged himself from his book.

John followed Jacob up the stairs to the room, “you don’t need to drag me along.”

“I do,” he couldn’t stand to be alone with her being her.

“She loves you,” John said, “I have had centuries to know.”

“If she knew everything she wouldn’t w;ant me,” He knocked the door, “are you descent?” he asked.

“You used to just barge in.”

“Different time and different relationship status.” She opened the door.

“I feel old,” she wore an old southern dress. Jacob laughed.

“I was going to pick that out for you.” John teased.

“Guess I’m psychic too,” they walked in, “is there nothing better to wear…”

“Your bag milady,” Jacob bowed she curtsied. She took it and ran back into the bathroom and was out in no time.

“Thank God… now these are clothes I could die in,” she smiled, then she caught his glance, “we are going to come back anyways.”

“I’m going to sleep. Jacob fix that gismo thing quickly. There is another room next to this one you could use that one,” John exited smoothly and shut the door and his.

“I think this is our last,” he sat on the bed again and took the gismo. She sat next to him. Shoulder to shoulder. He looked at her, “this might end this. Change time.”

“No going to the past,” she said, “that is dangerous. Could I see?”

“Yep.” He handed it to her. Their fingers grazed in the hand over.

“I was sort of expecting something to happen when I touched it,” she laughed a little. “Still need to study my blood?”

He vanished and reappeared with the metal container and syringe in hand, “yep.”

He took her arm, and the scars reminded him, she ignored them and looked at him. “Done,” he smiled and looked at her, she had barely noticed the pain. She was caught up in his existence. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, “for everything.”

“At least my life isn’t boring.”

He smiled. She gave the gismo back to him. “I better start breaking this thing down,” he stood up and walked toward the door. She didn’t want him to leave.

“The first ones didn’t scar as much as the others that had been repeatedly carved,” he froze, “it is okay.”

“It’s not,” he turned back to her with his fist balled, knuckles pale. She stood looked at him once. Saw the fury in his eyes, the hurt, “why?”

“She said a reminder of my evil, I killed people around me,” she collapsed back on the bed, “not entirely false. My parents died… I was there… my grandmother who took me after died… I was there… but not her… funny how when you want to live you die and when you want to die you don’t.”

“Do you want to die because of her,” she lifted herself on her elbows on the bed.

“I don’t know.” Getting fidgety she sat, with her legs on the bed. He didn’t move thoughts spinning. He walked to her, sat beside her squeezed her shoulder. “I wanted to die,” she could talk to him. In another life he was the only one she could talk to, “I still do… and the thought that my soul craves for an end scares me. It’s something I need to do,” he took her hand, “I want a life worth living and if my life is not worth living then I don’t want to continue existing it. I need help! I’m too broken for whatever we are expected to do. For whatever this is.” She stood up ripping her hand from his and walked to the window, fighting the tears that threatened to show her weakness.

“Lex,” he called for her as he stood and walked toward her. She abruptly turned, catching him off guard. A tear broke, wiped it off quickly.

“You wanted to know,” she spat out. He tucked her hair behind her ear tenderly and another tear betray her. He wiped it away and took her hand.

“Take strength,” he smiled.

She was all alone crying by a building corner, when a small boy with a cheerful smile reached his hand out, “Take strength.” She didn’t take his hand, he sighed, “are you okay?” she didn’t say anything, “Just follow me, I have a feeling we can change the world together,” he kept smiling she took his hand and stood. The burning world around her came to light. Murdered bloody bodies around them.

“You make me want to live,” she whispered. He was unbearably close, “That’s dangerous.”

He had seen the memory too. Jacob stumbled back a bit and let her hand go slowly, I can’t stop loving her, he thought. He kissed her forehead, “get some sleep,” he smiled, “I need to work on that.” He took the gismo and sample and worped to the hall way. It was barely 8 pm.

She fell to her knees, “you’re not real. This is not real. I have finally lost it. It’s just me and my lonely broken mind making something out of nothing,” she mumbled to herself, “me, making imaginary friends because I… Reality… I’m tired,” she sighed, “fed up, done…” time travel, teleporting, reincarnation, what am I thinking? It feels so real. True. It can’t be! “It can’t be!” she crawled to the bed. It will be over tomorrow! I might wake up. I don’t want to wake up. I rather have this. I rather have him.

Jacob sat by the door in blank thought, all the death we caused. What’s the plan? What does it have to do with this? He looked at the gismo. He had taken a liking to calling it a gismo. He stood up and head for the room he was assigned to. He walked in, closed the door and let his wings out. Stretched them out a bit and took a full breath. The draws had some old tools and sciency stuff, he dumped the gismo on the table and pulled out whatever he thought he might need. Sat down wings still out and started studying it.

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