Chapter 1~Masquerade

Chapter 1

 

Her face twisted in disgust as he stepped out of his room. The withering woman’s dress danced around her legs as she took a step forward and slapped him. Here we go, thought Warren, already bored. What does this make? Six lectures for the day? If he wasn’t so patient, then that blow would have probably been the one to send him over the edge. Today was not his best day.

“What is that?” asked Blanca, her dark eyes moving across Warren’s face.

“What’s what?” he replied. Keeping his jaw tense, Warren stared down Blanca. If it wasn’t for that disease of yours, you wouldn’t be alive right now, his mind wandered.

Blanca’s hand went flying again. This impact was a bit harder. Careful, careful, thought Warren. You’ll break a bone again. “Smart assing me again, child? Who do you think you’re talking to? Go change and this time be presentable. Don’t make your old, sick mother bring out the whip.”

“My apologies, Mommy.” He returned to his room, all the while fighting the urge to laugh. No. Emotions kill. I won’t die yet. Warren caught sight of his appearance in the mirror. Resisting the urge to choke himself, he changed from a Slipknot band tee and jeans to a silk tuxedo. Enough screwing around with mom for the night, he decided. The show’s just starting.

 

“One, two, three four. Two, two, three, four,” the girl mumbled to herself. Warren suppressed a sigh. He was stuck with another girl who believed his family would accept her. I’m only eighteen. Why do I know how to waltz? Better than this girl anyways. He casually looked down at his dance partner, a small girl with ruby hair and watery green eyes. Why should I be looking for her now? I’m still young.

And always will be…

The inscription burned Warren’s vision. Ever since the accident there had always been someone writing to him, warning him of the future. His eyes would blank and an ancient scroll would appear before him. And somebody would write messages to him. What scared Warren the most was that the predictions always came true. He couldn’t help but wonder what was causing it. I’m special? Am I cursed? Oh, I know. Delusional. The old hag usually isn’t right, but there’s a first time for everything, he considered.

“It’s my turn,” a man tapped Warren’s shoulder. Gracefully, he released the girl and left the dance floor with a bow.  Making his way to the sidelines, Warren kept a straight face, revealing no emotion while astounding many by passers.

If it is possible to predict the future, then there has to be a reason for why each person is chosen, Warren thought. Unless it is chosen at random to entertain those spirits which rein us, but then, the purpose would be clear, wouldn’t it? It was never that simple and he knew it. The next possibility I can see is that there is a higher psychic power for us. There always has to be someone more powerful than you, so why not? Though, how is that measured? Warren’s jaw tightened. This doesn’t make any sense!

Luck? the scroll suggested.

Please, he replied. Luck is nothing but a figment that humans created as an explanation to irrational occurrences.

You’d be surprised. Fate or destiny is the actual word.

That’s another made up word. Your choices lead to your future. Not the other way around. This time when Warren saw the paper before him, he paused and looked away. I’m done with you for the day.

“Warren,” someone called. Warren blinked. He was standing at the top of the stairs, looking out at the dozens of couples dancing. “You aren’t going to ignore me too, are you?” He turned around and his eyes widened as arms wrapped around his torso.

“Natalia, what are you doing here?” Warren asked, astounded.

“You still say my name with an accent.” She laughed. “It’s about the only thing you say with an accent.” Natalia pulled away from her brother and Warren looked her over. Petite and refined as always, Natalia stood in a simple blue ball gown. His sister was supposed to be in Argentina, studying to become a politician, but instead she stood in the very house she left in such a hurry four years ago. “Why aren’t you dancing?”

“It’s been happening again,” he muttered. “Gave me a headache this time, too,” Warren shrugged and offered a smile.

Natalia rolled her eyes. “Please, you’re still going on about that? I mean, sure when you were five it was cute, but now it’s just annoying.”

Biting his tongue, Warren took hold of his sister’s chin and leaned closer. “Eres tonta. You know I’m lying about this. I mean, why would it matter if I was dying or if mum was about to kill herself? Sure, as long as my sanity and the family’s reputation are alright, then nothing is true, right?”

“Still the same, I see. Sarcastic and always talking back; disrespectful and arrogant,” Natalia retorted, slapping his hand away. “Mom and dad taught you better.”

A laugh escaped Warren. “Taught me better? I beg to differ! With the whipping and beatings, you think they taught me better? Never showing any emotion towards me other than anger and regret is teaching me? Slapping me if I missed a spot while cleaning the dishes when we have maids for that? How is that better? Not everything is pretty and sweet, Natalia. You should learn a little more about the real world before you come and tell me that I’m filthy and worthless like you’ve done so many times before.”

“Well, some people don’t learn with anything but violence. You are one of them, so�"”

“Did you not just claim that I have no manners and that I was taught better? Violence didn’t solve anything. It just made me shut my mouth while the hits came and taught me to keep my thoughts to myself so that new beatings wouldn’t come. But really, it didn’t do much. Mum and dad are just too old to give me a good whipping nowadays.”

“But it was for a good�"”

“I’m done with you,” he interrupted. “Not only do you not have the mind to take in the data that was laid right in front of your eyes for thirteen years, but you do not even have the capacity of holding an intelligent conversation with reasonable arguments. Go have fun and leave me alone.”

Warren saw his sister’s eyes widen and jaw drop as he headed down the stairs. He expected her to shoot after him to either get a word or punch in, but she didn’t even make a sound. I’m glad to see that she’s at least matured a little. People were staring, of course. They’d heard most of it. Warren suppressed another sigh. He’d be getting a good beat today for putting in danger, if not damaging, the family’s reputation.

Warren sneaked out through the back door and ran through the maze. Arguing with his sister had fatigued Warren. He needed to get some rest before he lost control. My jaw hasn’t ached today, he noticed. Did I eat too much yesterday, or did something prevent it? The visions have been coming nonstop today. Could that be what’s taking up all my energy? No. I would be starving if it was consuming my life-force. Maybe it’s nerves. The ball was only once every year and this time it was also his farewell party. Yeah, it’s the party. They can’t wait to get rid of me.

His steps slowed as the shed came into view. Warren had used the toolshed several times over the years as an escape from home. His room wouldn’t have done any good. Everybody was permitted in there according to Blanca. Nobody had ever come to the realization that privacy was what teenagers most longed for. Then again, nobody had ever even grasped the fact that Warren didn’t care for authorities. They all believed he was only a moody, arrogant idiot. If they only knew everything that Warren was capable of. If they knew every little secret about him, they wouldn’t be saying anything.

But of course, this wasn’t any little secret. They’d kill him if they knew. Everything for our reputation, isn’t it? Warren’s teeth clenched and hands balled into fists. Even your son’s life. Just as long as nobody thinks poorly of you, right? His breathing sped. Slamming the shed’s door open, Warren punched the first object he could find. A shockwave of excruciating pain surged through Warren’s arm. He looked down at his fist. Great. I split a block of wood in half. Waving around his bleeding hand, he scavenged for a cloth to wrap his it with.

“Screw it,” he finally muttered. It would heal soon. He just needed some rest. Warren eyed the steel table hidden behind boxes of tools. That’ll do, decided Warren. As he climbed over the boxes, Warren prayed that they would sustain his weight. Never could do things the easy way, could you, buddy? Natalia’s voice echoed in his head. Warren smiled. She’d told him that when he had tried climbing a tree without any of the promising branches. There always had to be a challenge to amuse him. Life would be boring otherwise.

Finally Warren managed to jump onto the table. Barely made a sound, he noted with please. After grabbing an apron to rest his head on, Warren stared at the ceiling. The words haunted him. Fate is coming. They’ll be here soon and someone will go wrong… Grammar errors usually didn’t annoy Warren, but this one didn’t seem to be one. It was too casual. No crosses had been made and no corrections were suggested. The latest message raised the hairs on the back of Warren’s neck. Something’s coming and it isn’t pleasant.

 

“COME BACK!” the screams echoed through the empty streets. Luella ran through fields of sunflower, hoping to stealthily escape what was calling for her. She should have learned from last time. No, last time she’d taken care of the problem as before that. This time it was different. He was stronger than all the others. Without doubt stronger than her. She wouldn’t be fleeing otherwise.

            Why the hell is there so much vegetation here? No. She shouldn’t be complaining. The sunflower field is hiding her. But she would need to find a way to disguise her scent if Luella wanted him to completely lose her trail. A barn or a river would do. No, a river will only momentarily disguise the scent. It will be easily picked up in seconds. A barn wouldn’t do either. Though, it was her best choice.

            Luella could see a small shed in the distance as she left the fields miles behind. Luella winced. There’s nothing but iron in that shed. She looked back. There was visible movement a few miles away from her. He was getting closer. Her eyes widened. He isn’t even trying. This is just a simple walk to him. Meanwhile, I’m pushing myself. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. Luella felt exhausted as she slipped into the large Colonial house.

There was a gathering where hundreds of people were shoved in several rooms of the house. The smell was overwhelming. If this is making me dizzy, then imagine how he’ll feel. Santiago would probably go check the shed before moving onto the house. Any rational person would have gone where their scent was hidden easily, but, Luella didn’t like to think of herself as a conformist.

She entered through the basement door and headed upstairs where her scent would be easily lost among the crowd. Her throat was drying more and more with each step she took up the long stairway. Things weren’t looking good for her. Luella knew that if she spent more than twenty minutes in the building, there would be police sirens outside the old house. As she reached for the doorknob, Luella noticed the scent of silk and lace. Biting her lip, she stepped into the party and instantly became the center of attention.

 

It was a few hours later that blue and red lights woke Warren from his nap. He groaned and finally stood. Mum and dad are probably mad and so they called the cops, he guessed. Fixing his tie, Warren hurried out of the shed and peeked at the front of the house. Cars were still parked all around, so he knew that there would be a scene made in front of his parent’s friends. Embarrassment meant two weeks without food and fifteen whips a day. Great. Though, when Warren stepped inside, he realized that the problem wasn’t relating to him.

Nobody paid any attention to him as he suddenly appeared at the center of the crowd. They were all fixated on the person fighting Sheriff Bernie. Daring, was the first thought that came to Warren. He knew of no one who would fight an armed man. At least nobody other than himself.

A girl with short strawberry blonde hair in dirty skinny jeans and a black tank top was facing Sheriff Bernie in a fighting stance. She looked as if ready to leap at him.

“Now, now, what’s wrong, sir?” asked Warren, stepping between the two. The girl’s attention didn’t shift.

“Warren!” Blanca whispered angrily. “Let him take the trespasser!”

“Is that it?” he huffed. “Sir, I don’t see what she did wrong. Now, look,” Warren took the girl’s face in his hand. Her dark blue eyes instantly met his, “does she look like she could hurt a fly?” Warren kissed the girl’s cheek before releasing her. “See? Harmless.”

Not even acknowledging Warren’s boldness, Bernie proceeded forward. With a sly smile, Warren took the girl’s arm and handed her over. They both blinked.

“You’re…letting me have her without a fight?” Bernie asked, astounded. “You’re finally maturing, Crepsley?”

“I’m offended. You make it sound like a question.”

He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Have a good night Mr. and Mrs. Crepsley. I’m sorry your party was interrupted, but hey. At least it wasn’t Crepsley Junior’s fault this time.”

Warren saw Blanca’s eyes narrow and burn with anger. It would soon be directed towards Warren. But that was a few hours away. Once the doors closed, the ball began once more and coldness returned to Warren’s eyes once again.

“Those eyes…” he mumbled. Such a dark blue that they’re almost black…who was it that had those once? Warren struggled to recall where he had seen eyes like that a long time ago. He bit his thumb as he watched the girl be transported in handcuffs to the police car. She’s calm. Like she was after I kissed her. Warren’s head tilted curiously. What is she up to?

Bernie drove off and Warren chuckled. “How clever,” he said, turning to face the hundreds of people dancing in unison.