Finally, he decided to check his watch. He needed to figure out when his friends would arrive. 'It's 9:10 right now,' he surmised. 'That would mean that it's been 10 minutes since I called them. They should be arriving in the next 5 minutes.' He thought, smiling. He would be safe soon. Salvation would come, as well as a guarantee.
Then, his smile quickly soured. He'd have to tell them about Clarissa. He'd have to remind himself about what truly happened to her. He'd have to accept what happened. That was something he couldn't do. Because the second he did, he wouldn't be able to ever move on. That was something that he knew, as well– it was a guarantee.
He couldn't move on. No matter what. Something bright had caught his eye. It was the moon. It had shadowed him the entire night then; like a spectre, it had emerged from what seemed to be nothing. In that sense, the moon was lucky. It was always able to move on. It was always able to relinquish the day to the sun. What he'd give to be able to move forward constantly like that. A slight grin broke across his features.
Finally, he decided to scan his environs one last time. It was the school track that he and Inuwa had run along earlier that day. It was hilarious. Only one day and their lives had changed so much. What a cruel joke. He thought.
It was at that moment. When he decided to shift his gaze back to the moon, that it occurred to him. There was a shadow. A dark shadow, standing near him. It obstructed part of the speckled, sugary, starry night sky. That dark shadow. It couldn't be right? He stared at it. For a second, nobody moved. Edgar was caught in its line of sight like a deer in headlights. The shock was so paramount that for a second the boy had almost lost control of his bladder.
Then in that instant, the shadow rushed. Revealing itself, it was that purple-haired boy – Vector. He was pointing straight at Edgar with a manic grin. His clothes were extremely bloodied, and his eyes twitched rapidly. His hair was mangled, betraying the clean and precise haircut that characterised him earlier in the day. Now one could assume at first sight that he was a hoodlum.
"To end the singularity, I must offer up 2 souls and the anomaly itself – and one of those souls is you! Edgar!" He incoherently screamed while lunging at Edgar.
"What are you going on about? Are you drunk?" Edgar asked, stepping back and trying not to get lost in the overwhelming pressure emanating from the boy.
"I've offered the Dumb Broad's soul; next on the agenda is yours!"
The gears in Edgar's head resonated. His brain went into overdrive to configure an answer from these 2 statements. Then finally, he came to the easy conclusion. Vector had killed Clarissa and for a reason aside from pure psychopathy. Or he was delusional.
"My regards, but you shall not get very far in that endeavour…" he responded, sidestepping to dodge another slash from Vector, "Can't… we engage in conversation and come to a consensus?" Edgar asked, exasperated.
"You've already given up on forgiving me, but you've already given up on moving on from her death. Make up your mind!" The aggravated purpette said.
"Is there some sort of language barrier between us? Or am I misunderstanding?" Edgar asked. In that moment, he acrobatically ducked, dodging another punch from Vector. He was being further and further backed up towards the forest.
"I know you! Inside and Out! You're a parasite of a human being." Vector said. "You're so full of it!"
"You don't have the right to say anything! Not after you've killed someone!" Edgar shouted. He was beginning to get tired of being on the back foot in this scuffle. As a result, he changed to a southpaw boxing stance to catch Vector off guard.
This worked; the boy momentarily paused. Then, Edgar punched him with great force against his liver. This would have any normal boy reeling, ending in the anticipated throw-up or gag.
Yet, this boy did not change in the slightest. Vector stood still, grinning sadistically ear to ear. Then, with a slight tremble in his already fragile voice. He murmured.
"You learnt Southpaw because of Inuwa, right?" He asked.
How.
"No," Edgar answered quickly. He didn't want to know what would happen if he agreed.
Vector's smirk widened. Then in that next instant, Edgar felt a sensation he had never felt before in his liver. He collapsed to the floor like papier-mache. He couldn't move his body. He felt like a machine rusted at the joints. What just happened?
"I punched your liver so hard it probably caused a dent. I won't be surprised if I broke a rib or two either. Using the style of that boy Inuwa – that anomaly. Pisses me off to no end! You weren't supposed to meet him in the first place!"
What? What do you mean by 'weren't supposed to meet him in the first place'?
Vector looked down at Edgar coldly. With the stare of Vector's eyes alone, Edgar felt like he saw the word 'death' recurring over and over. Did Edgar say his thoughts out loud? A slip-up like that was going to get him killed.
"Oh? Did I say too much? It's time I correct this error. I'm going to kill you and send your soul to the stars."
"…What... do you mean…. by soul… to the stars?" Edgar etched out, clawing for gasps of air in between sharp pangs of pain and the bile gathering at the back of his throat. What Vector had said sounded incredibly ominous. Edgar's mind whirled like a chainsaw. To the 'stars' seemed to imply something – and Edgar had an idea of what. Maybe Inuwa's idea wasn't so farfetched after all.
"Another world…"
"Another… world?" He rasped out. The jackhammer that was his heart, pounding against his chest, had long since proven that it was likely the case before his brain could register it. His friend had really been sent to another world. If that really did happen, then–
"–His injury… that wasn't you," Edgar said.
"Why would it have been me? The fool did it to himself," Vector said with an alarming clarity in his eyes, "His very existence has created an instability in this world." He continued. "Because… he wasn't supposed to exist here. This very planet is rejecting his existence, and to do that, it will destroy itself until he no longer exists. That is the cancer that is your friend."
He didn't understand. Was the world rejecting Inuwa? What made that boy so special that the WORLD would reject his existence? If he wasn't supposed to exist here, then what did that mean for them? Questions buzzed around Edgar's head.
The sheer complexity of such information was enough to make his head spin and eyes bug out. This disproved everything. If the idea of a 'parallel world' existed, wouldn't that mean multiverse theory was correct? The possibilities made him gurgle in contentment. However, there was something he still had to address.
With a sudden burst of strength, he leapt up, kicking backwards.
"Don't call him a cancer." Edgar demanded, "I'll make you regret ever saying that about my friend! For I'll be damned if I let that slide!"
Lunging forward, he connected his fist with Vector's ribs, delivering what would be a critical blow. However, at the last second, the sadistic boy had held it with his right hand; he retaliated by aligning his fist with the midpoint of Edgar's stretched-out forearm and upper arm. Quickly, he tried to deliver an uppercut to the point his fist was aligned.
'Shit!' Edgar thought. If Vector was seriously strong enough to break his arm in that way, then it spelt bad news. There was only one way to avoid such a scenario from occurring.
Edgar had quickly realised that the grip on his restrained arm was too great to simply pull out. Instead, he opted to tuck his stretched-out arm inwards as if he was assuming a base stance in boxing.
Finally, the blow connected. Through Edgar's quick improvisation, he avoided his arm being broken; however–
"–Urk!" He said, recoiling. He gripped his arm tightly. Yet, to the touch, a searing pain came straight from his arm. It was fractured. The blow was strong enough to fracture his arm. He let his right arm go limp as he made distance between himself and Vector.
Sighing, Edgar observed Vector closely– he looked for any sign that Vector was in pain. But all he saw was the same sadistic grin plastered on his face. His shoulders weren't heaving, and the subtle rise and fall of his chest remained the same. In fact, everything seemed to indicate that he wasn't affected at all. He wasn't even attacking Edgar. He just stood there, with a knowing smirk.
'I need some sort of plan,' Edgar thought. 'He's way too strong to fight close up. Is there anything I could use here?'
Edgar examined his peripherals, hoping for a weapon of some sort. He scanned the surrounding area, the encircling roads, the entrance of the school behind Vector and the playground equipment for younger kids.
Playground… Playground… Playground!
'That's it!' Edgar concluded. He sauntered to the left and quickly picked up one of the leftover pieces of equipment. For some reason, the school hadn't cleared up the area. However, that allowed him to grasp a metal bat.
With this… I should be fine. Even if he wields a knife, no one can pierce through metal!
"Fight me if you dare!" Edgar shouted. He didn't intend to shout that out; however, the pressure of the moment combined with the adrenaline shot had begun to cloud his judgement. Ignoring the ticking time bomb that was himself, he lunged forward, his arm cocked back.
Then he struck, aiming for Vector's ribs. If he could break a few of his ribs and even puncture a lung, then the fight would be over. He'd no longer be tormented and toyed with. For he was the heir to a company, he wouldn't allow himself to show any more weakness.
Then the blow came; Edgar's weapon had come into contact with something. But, to his surprise, it was stopped.
"I could see your intentions from a mile away. Why didn't you aim for my arm? I'm sure if you aimed there you might have actually broken something."
Vector stood there. He was holding the metal bat within the palm of his hands. His pupils danced with glee as his contours twisted maniacally.
"You present as a bore to me. Your lack of weakness infuriates me," Vector said with an odd expression that Edgar couldn't decipher.
"What's wrong with that? Do you find yourself feeling usurped by me?" Edgar replied coolly.
"No. It is that very lack of weakness that is your weakness. You've spent your life believing it's alright and you've let it consume you. Can't you see how disposable you are to your friends?"
That caught Edgar off-guard. He had been thinking something along those lines for a while now. But, to hear it come out from someone who had only known his group for a few hours really put it into perspective.
How awful. He couldn't let the words of a killer sway him in such a way. He lunged forwards against the overwhelming strength of Vector's grip.
"How dare you assume to know so much about me!"
"Still pretending that you don't care. How pitiful. Do you want me to let you in on a secret?"
Vector's grin had now extended to both corners of his face. His pupils became slit-like. It was unnatural yet enchanting.
"Your friend– Clarissa. In her dying thoughts, wasn't thinking about you."
"What do you mean?!"
"The last words she uttered were: 'Inuwa…!' You were never in the equation to begin with," He said. His tone became a mock damsel voice as he yelled out the name of Edgar's friend. At that moment, the light left Edgar's eyes as the silence told Vector all that he needed to know.
"You'll always be a drifter, drifting between people and friends. There's no place where you belong." Vector said, "At least, there's no place where you belong in this world."
The hopeless boy who had spent that moment looking plainly at the ground slowly stared up. He was practically overpowered by now, only hanging on by a mere thread. Not a physical thread, but there was still a piercing part of his mind that believed in Clarissa and Inuwa.
"In that other world. There's a place where you might belong. If this world rejects you, it must be because you were fated for something greater in another world," Vector uttered. Then with alacrity, he exclaimed: "Yes! That's it! You were destined to be a leader in that world! There's no mistaking it!"
"Huh… what are you saying?" Edgar had tried to block out some of his ramblings, but that part sounded incredibly arcane to the boy. Arcane yet attractive. "So I was destined to command those that thought I was beneath them? What a wonderful world that could have been."
Edgar's glare had softened, and a small smile was adorned across his features. He didn't really believe it. But he didn't want to _not_ believe it. Because, if he didn't, that would mean that it was really the world against him. Once he got a taste of that gift, he didn't want to let it go.
I don't want to be alone. He realised. I've surrounded myself with people I barely share anything with… because I don't want to be alone– it was so simple!
"Yes, definitely." Vector's expression went dark. He lifted the content Edgar with one arm. Edgar's grip remained tightly woven against the metal bat. Then without an interval, his arm morphed into something unidentifiable to Edgar.
–Then there was a hole in his chest. Where his heart should've been. Blood spurted out his mouth. His eyes widened slightly. But, with the combined stresses of the day, Clarissa, Inuwa, the Adrenaline, his Death. He couldn't help but feel relieved. He fell to the ground, content.
"It's your lucky day, Edgar. Because today I've gathered enough *£%^!# thanks to that friend of yours. So now, I can afford to take two with me. Of course, I still have two more errands to do. Then, I'll go with you. But for now, learn! Explore! Conquer! You shall be my vassal!" The deranged Vector said, "Once you've ascended to the top, your fate will be assured."
Edgar was dying. He didn't understand what he was saying behind the ringing in his ears and the numbing tiredness sapping his strength quickly. His vision had gone blurry. The only sensation he could feel was the wet, leaky feeling of blood gushing out of his chest, yet even that feeling was beginning to fade.
'I… I want to achieve my destiny! I want it!' He thought. 'I won't let Inuwa or anyone else stop me!'
What…?
That was strange. Why did he think Inuwa would be the person to stop him from achieving success? How strange…
Edgar's eyes finally lost all their light. His breathing calmed to a still. With an indiscernible expression, Vector closed Edgar's eyelids. Then, he forged an unknown mass. In the dead of the night, it was completely black. It engulfed the last light in the area, the light leading to Inuwa's room.
With water trickling down his face, Vector stumbled towards the light.