The Symptoms

A Dish Best Served Cold

I took a subconscious step back, and something fired in the back of my brain that I seemed to have forgotten. Lucas seemed to notice the edge in his voice too and seemed to shift back slightly.

"Kill us?"

"You know, when you repeat something it doesn't make it any less real, girl." The air in the room seemed to tense up with us. Normally, this would be a fight that I would win, but something about the way that he was talking was making me uncomfortable. It was like nails on a chalkboard, grinding into my head.

"You fetch a pretty penny, Blair. The boy? Not as much, but since you're both here, I might as well get my money's worth." He clicked something under his desk and low growls of pain came from outside as the door crashed open. A dozen- no, two dozen savages peered in at us with murder in their eyes. I glanced over at them, my heart dropping to my stomach. Subtly, I could hear a beeping sound coming from their wrists.

Are those their transaction chips?

Something didn't add up to me, but before I could even think about it, Ruth lunged at us. It took both us off guard as well, both the fact that he meant what he said, and the fact that he was so spry for an old man. The savages followed in his wake as Lucas and I glanced at each other and darted out of the door.

They were fast. Like really fast. My face burned as Lucas and made it through the cascade of snowflakes that fell from the sky. The snow fell through the sky heavily, coating the ground in a thick white blanket. I hadn't thought that we had been with Ruth for that long, but the soft, white ground told me otherwise. We continued to run, but they had gained on us quickly, right on our heels. Lucas fired off shots into the stampede desperately, hitting a couple, but it hardly dented their number. Ruth was still in the lead, and we needed to slow them down somehow.

A light bulb went off in my head, giving me a great, and stupid idea. As I ran, I scooped a handful of snow off the ground, forming a ball in my hands. It burned, and I could already see my hands turning red because of the acidity, but I finally got the firm shape that I wanted. I chucked the snowball full-force at Ruth. It exploded onto his face in a flurry of snow, getting all over his face and into his eyes.

He howled in pain, skidding to a stop and he knelt to the ground in pain. The savages slowed a little but continued to pursue us in a wild goose chase. Lucas seemed to pick up on what I was doing and began throwing snowballs too. The white blanket crunched under our feet, creating footprints behind us. As we hurled snowballs, the savages fell back bit by bit, until they dwindled and eventually lost our trail in the blizzard of snow. I could hardly see a thing as my eyes burned and teared up, but Lucas suddenly grabbed hold of my wrist and tugged me along.

"Close your eyes! All you have to do is run!" He yelled through the howling wind. I didn't have time to argue as he led us back to my apartment building. We fell through the doorway in a heap of snow, breathing heavily. As I lay on the ground, Lucas sat up but didn't get up fully, propping himself up with his elbows. I lifted my head slightly and met his gaze, everything going silent for a moment. We then burst out into a fit of laughter.

"You look terrible!" I chuckled.

"No worse than you! You look like a drowned mouse!" He shot back, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

We eventually calmed down and a thought came to mind. Those savages were being controlled by the chips in their arms. If I were to ever re-encounter Ruth, I don't think I would be safe from him controlling me next time. These things were practically trackers too. Every time I made a purchase it would ping my location, giving my whereabouts to anyone who was looking. This just so happened to be the entirety of Edoris, which was not ideal. I grimaced and Lucas gave me an inquisitive look. I looked up at him with reluctance.

"I think we have to cut our chips out," I explained.

"Cut our chips out? Isn't that illegal?"

I raised an eyebrow, giving him an are-you-fucking-serious look. "More illegal than running from the government and being suspected of conspiracy?"

He seemed to take back his comment and I dug through my pockets, pulling out a pocket knife. My hands and wrists were already burning with pain, so I doubted that a small cut could hurt that bad, but it still made me nauseous.

I stared at the knife for a minute, wondering if this was truly the right decision to be making. Doubt clouded my thoughts, and I heard something speak to me through the mist of my thoughts.

Kill him.

The voice startled me so much that the knife fell from my hands, clattering to the floor. Lucas looked at me in concern, as if he were observing me. I was lost in my panic. The voice was so clear like it was whispering into my ear. Was that-

"Blair!"

Lucas's voice finally made it through to me, but I hadn't even realized that he was calling me in the first place. I looked up at him, trying to play it off like I wasn't terrified.

"Yeah?" I ask, avoiding his eyes.

"Maybe it's best if I do it?" He suggested. I didn't bother to argue, it was pointless for me to try. Shakily, I slid the knife over to him.

He picked it up and I held out my arm.

"You do it for me and I do it for you?" I asked. He nodded in agreement and I looked away, not wanting to see the process of my chip removal. A sharp stabbing pain pierced through my skin, dulled out by the faint burn of the acid. I grimaced until I heard a sharp sound of a piece of metal, like a piece of jewelry falling to the floor.

I didn't dare look at it as I snatched the knife away and wiped it off, repeating the same process for Lucas. He closed his eyes just like I did, and I slowly but surely removed the chip, his blood dripping onto my hands.

Kill him.

The whisper drilled into my head and I stiffened, clenching the knife hard as if I was scared it would move on its own. The chip fell to the floor with a similar noise as the previous one, and Lucas sighed in relief.

"Glad that's over, though could you have been a bit more gentle?" He shot at me with a glare. I hardly noticed him through my silent fear, like he was a whisper in the storm of my thoughts, which were hardly my own.

What is wrong with me?

What is wrong with you?

The second voice echoed back the same question as if taunting me. It was so quiet you could have mistook it for the wind. But, it was clear to me, no matter how much I didn't want to believe it.

It was my voice.