More than a week had passed, and she spent it disconnected from everyone in her organisation. It was an irresponsible act, and for once she didn't care. She realised that they needed her, not the other way round, and she had never before exercised this advantage. She had been too polite, too patient, too magnanimous, strengths that her department did not deserve from her, and they had all now become her weaknesses. She continued with her private counselling career, caught up with her hobbies and even paid a visit to her parents at their old house. Living the normal life was a delightful change, but was difficult to enjoy with her other reality refusing to distance itself from her.
There was no message from her superiors or peers regarding the restoration of funds. Contrarily, there had been many commands for her to report to headquarters and provide them with an explanation. She had tried reaching out to Francis, but the invisible barrier had returned, preventing any communication with him or access to his location. She beat herself up internally as she realised that Kathryn had been right all along; the man was not to be trusted. There was no point in regretting it now, and to her, there was no point in telling the executive committee about her meeting with Francis only to disappoint them with how it had failed to work out. Above all, she was worried about Kathryn. Her greatest hope was that the teen’s aversion towards her was only temporary. There was no other perceiver for Kathryn to confide in now; she would have no choice but to come crawling back in time. Still, Clarisa did not expect herself to be forgiven. She wanted badly to carry on with her unpermitted vacation, but her nagging conscience, together with the news that Leo had just been discharged from sickbay, decided that it was time to answer for her absence.
She appeared inside the entrance of headquarters, and looks of displeasure were immediately being directed her way. As she moved down the corridors, perceivers followed her with their long list of questions and accusations.
“Clarisa, the CEO has been asking for you for the longest time!”
“You have an assignment overdue. Where have you been?”
“How come you’re here? Aren't you supposed to be in London?”
“I haven’t yet consented to the loan,” Clarisa answered, which sparked an outrage among the perceivers.
“I thought that was settled a week ago!”
“Five more in our team died last night, because of you!”
“What did Francis say to you?”
“Nobody wants you here!”
Clarisa turned around abruptly, and said in a stern voice uncharacteristic of her,
“I’m occupied at the moment. All of your questions will have to be answered another time.”
Thankfully, most of the perceivers recognised a warning when they heard one. There was a minute of peace as she continued on her way, until someone called out,
“Clarisa!”
Without thinking, she snapped back,
“Shut up!”
The person caught up with her and gripped her on the shoulder.
“Clarisa it's just me,” Jonas smiled, and Clarisa gasped in surprise.
“Jonas! I'm sorry….I didn't mean-”
“It's okay,” he assured. “I’d have said far worse things with people swarming me like that. I’ve been worried about you, and just wanted to know how you've been.”
Clarisa shook her head. “Not myself, I suppose,” she said, still stunned by her own outburst.
“You're stressed out,” Jonas told her, “Leo's up in the fake garden, if seeing him would make you feel better.”
Clarisa smiled at Jonas’ knowledge of her. “I was just heading there. Have you seen him yet?”
“Wanted to let you have the honour,” Jonas smiled back before turning to leave. Clarisa stood there for a moment to appreciate what a nice friend Jonas was, before teleporting upstairs.
She walked onto the carpet grass and found Leo sitting forlornly on the bench, staring out at the night sky plastered on the wall. Or at the turf. Or at his hands. She could not tell. He made no acknowledgement as she approached him, but she knew that she was always welcome to take the space by his side. His body language easily told her that he was sad, and sadness was an emotion he seldom displayed. She waited patiently for him to make the first complaint or let out the first sigh, things he usually did to express his discontentment. This time however, nothing. He just sat there, slumped over the railing, eyes distant. It was so unlike the Leo she knew, she decided to prompt him.
"Is there something wrong?"
Leo was at the same time relieved and bothered that she had asked. If she hadn't, he would probably never tell her, and he needed a soundboard rather badly. But she had, which bothered him because now he didn't know the answer. So he said the first thing that came to mind, and in a voice shakier than intended,
"I miss... old times."
He had barely even said anything, and Clarisa understood the mood he was in.
"Old times?" she repeated.
"Times," he said airily, "When things weren't so intense. When we could discuss work over lunch. When sleep could clear my mind. When coffee could liven up the day. When everyone and everything could bounce back from where they had fallen. Things aren't... like that anymore."
His fingers were playing with some leaves from the small tree next to the bench. He smoothed them and unfolded them, then smoothed them back and unfolded them again...
Clarisa wanted to hug him.
"And I also thought about..." his voice lowered, " I was thinking about times way before I even joined the organisation. Times before I even knew about the Darkness. Monday night football and pizza with my Dad. I had it so easy." He let go of the leaves and started fidgeting with his hands.
"I miss those times."
Clarisa paused, allowing them both to collect their thoughts, before asking,
"Would you rather live in those times?"
Leo shook his head, "If I could go back to that life before I could perceive, certainly. But if you're asking me if I want to quit, I can't. Not when I see all that I see now."
Clarisa did not know how to comfort him, for she shared his pain.
“I've had a lot of time to think in that white room,” he went on, “I was wondering what would happen if the Darkness won, and how far it would go to do that. At the beginning we’re all so sure that we won't fall for it, but so many of us have already fallen. We all have this breaking point and the scary thing is that we don't know where it is. We don't realise when it’s near, and when it comes, it's too late. Like right now, I say that I will never ever give in to the Darkness. But now that it's all around us and affecting the people close to us, what if, without me even knowing it, I already have?”
Clarisa closed her eyes from the force of his words; they related too well to her own situation. An avalanche of images- the forest, the fire, the fallen body- overwhelmed her. Before Leo could turn to face her, she teleported from the garden.
She roamed the building aimlessly, ignoring the passing stares, caught up in a whirlwind of her own thoughts and feelings. Voices- real and imaginary- flooded her mind. As she tried to make sense of them, she found a strain of order among the chaos- her intuition. She sensed the Darkness, and it was coming from somewhere in the building. She followed it, and although her intuition was not always a hundred percent accurate, she was sure that it was right this time. It led her to the corridor of meeting rooms on the third floor. All were empty except the last room, the one where her briefings were held. She turned the knob and pushed the door open to see Johnson, leaning back in his chair and gazing up at the ceiling with a self-confident smile on his face. The fingerless glove had been removed from his right wrist, exposing a long, dark scar.
“You,” Clarisa uttered.
“Came to watch the show with me?” Johnson grinned at her.
“Stop this,” she ordered.
“You’re far too late. Might as well sit back and relax.”
Clarisa looked up, and the crack was creeping towards the other end of the ceiling, with only a couple of inches to go.
“You’re the one who made a deal with the Darkness,” she breathed. “It's unforgivable.”
Johnson smirked. “You're wasting your breath. Nothing you say or do now can stop it from happening.” He tapped the table with his fingernails in anticipation. “I worked hard for this. Now just you wait and see my reward.”
One inch left. She had no clue what was going to happen, and she asked him.
“The Darkness and I will become one, inseparable entity,” Johnson said grandly. “Together we will form a new class of Darkness, and after its enemies are taken down, we will take down mine.”
“What enemies?”
Before Johnson could reply, the crack on the ceiling touched the finish line. He looked down at his wrist, and the scar on it expanded into a big, black patch, covering his whole arm within seconds. Johnson beamed proudly at his hand, which now looked exactly like the one that had negotiated with him. His height was increasing rapidly, and odd structures began to grow from his torso. Clarisa was about to make a run for it when Johnson's head burst through the cracked ceiling, sending concrete slabs raining down on her. She ducked and shielded her head with her arms to lessen the damage, but was ultimately knocked unconscious.
* * *
She did not recognise the place she was in after managing to crawl out from the heap of rubble. It surprised her that she wasn't the least bit injured, although significantly disoriented. She could not remember what had happened directly before the collapse of the ceiling, or what had caused it. It was nighttime, and she realised that she was standing in the middle of the shadiest looking alley that could exist, with soot and graffiti-covered brick walls, poor lighting, litter all over the ground and…
...people?
She moved closer and saw a girl sitting in the shadows against the wall, with thick, shoulder length hair and frightened eyes, her hands and feet tied together with rope. She'd recognise that girl anywhere.
“Kathryn! What are you doing here?”
“I don't know!” Kathryn squealed. “And he's here too!”
She turned to her right, and restrained in a similar manner a few feet away from her was Francis. He shook his head at Clarisa with a frown, indicating his own confusion. Clarisa walked around the alley to find at least ten of her closest colleagues from the fieldwork department that included Leo and Jonas, all bound at the hands and feet. They all watched her helplessly, and none of them were struggling, which probably meant that they had been confined here for a long time. What was going on? Who set this up? Before she could question any more of them, a voice boomed from behind her,
Our time has come.
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