Chapter 3
Maybe I just don't watch the news enough to know that there's a serial killer on the loose who paints portraits of the girls he's murdered with their own blood. I'm not sure I want to know that much about it. But Mantis assures me he'll fill be in on more details later.
Yeah, I've taken referring to the mystery guy as Mantis, which is actually the brand of phone that he gave me. It works though, and I need something to refer to him as mentally. "Stranger guy" was getting a little old.
The perks of joining up with him seem promising. He said by tomorrow he'd have an apartment leased in my name. Or the name I had given him at any rate. Food, clothes. All the things I'd had to scavenge for before.
As Mantis talked my brain recorded details, trying to put together an idea of who he was. Obviously somebody with money, and a super genius if his own word is to be believed.
I don't trust him, really. Which isn't saying much since I don't really trust anybody. But I am curious about him, and even more curious about these other "special" people he knows about.
That's one thing about not being able to die. It makes me a little careless sometimes. Sometimes I assume, what's the worse that can happen? It's not like I'll die. Which means I'm probably forgetting a lot of other really bad, not-dying things that could happen to me.
Part of me considers the fact that Mantis, whoever he is, could have already turned me in if he really wanted to. He knows way more about me than I know about him after all.
With the phone call over, I don't have much to do with myself, so I turn the tv back on. Nighttime television, it turns out is slightly more interesting than daytime television. I even watch the news at 10:00 to see if the serial killer Mantis mentioned is on there. He isn't, which I guess isn't too disappointing. Mantis has a lot more details on the killer than the media has anyway.
Because he's a super genius. That's why.
Apart from not trusting Mantis, I'm not entirely convinced he isn't totally annoying. He certainly comes off as high and mighty, which I suppose you can do when you're loaded and have all sorts of intel acquired through your self-proclaimed super genuisness.
So yeah, a little bit annoying.
Around dinnertime, more food gets brought up. Chinese takeout this time, also paid for. I ask the delivery guy if the food was paid for in person. He looks at me like I'm stupid and says no, it was bought online.
I sleep for a couple hours that night, once the good television is gone. There's not that much else to do. The pool is closed, even if I had a swimsuit (which I don't). There's a club downstairs that appears to stay open all night, but I'm not really interested in the type of attention I'd get there. I'm not even sure they'd let me in, since I don't have any type of ID. Even if I did, I'm only 18, so they probably wouldn't let me in.
Not like alcohol does anything to me. I tried getting drunk once, just to see if I could. Apparently I cannot. Whatever my body does to heal itself takes care of the alcohol too.
After I wake up, I use my vast technological capabilities to download a game onto the phone, which I play for three straight hours. By then it's early enough to go down to get breakfast.
I make myself a waffle and take it back up to my room. An hour later I get bored again so I go make myself another waffle. I end up making five before the continental breakfast station closes for the morning.
Finally I get a call from Mantis, who says that my new apartment is ready for me. He gives me directions and tells me where the key is hidden. It's not too far from the hotel, so I walk over.
I’m floored from the minute I enter the lobby. The fancy doorman and chandelier suggest that this place is swanky. Granted, most places would be a step up from homelessness.
The apartment itself doesn’t disappoint. All the furniture is modern and elegant. It appears to be well furnished, and I wonder how Mantis got it ready so fast.
Although the apartment isn’t super big, it’s more than enough space for me. I don’t even know where to begin looking first. The front door opens to the living room. On the couch sits a Mantis brand laptop that I’m not going to know how to use.
Beyond the living room is a kitchen area. A bowl on the table holds fresh produce, so I grab an apple to eat as I examine the rest of the apartment. One bedroom with a bed that looks too good to be true, a walk in closet for all the clothes I don’t own, and a bathroom with two sinks.
What am I even going to do with two sinks?
Best of all, there’s a balcony that I can open up to take in the warm LA nights. This is too good to be true.
I text Mantis. I can’t accept this. It’s too much.
You’ll earn it. Glad you like it.
I go back into the kitchen and get a banana from the fruit bowl. As I’m peeling it, the phone buzzes again.
Do you have an email address?
Why would I have an email address? I text back.
Go make one. I have video footage I need to show you.
I open up the laptop and get it turned on. I make the email address and text it to Mantis. A minute later a new email pops up.
The clip is only about thirty seconds. It shows a man walking out of a burning building with a young girl in his arms. The girl seems unharmed other than some coughing, but the man’s clothes are on fire. It’s hard to tell, but I think he is on fire.
The man sets the girl down, pulls the hood of his sweatshirt back up to cover his face and runs off.
I watch the clip several times over, trying to note details. The man is young, African American, and definitely on fire.
But when he pulls up is hood and runs away he sure looks like he’s fine.
Finally I text Mantis back. Sort of looks like something I could do.
YOU ARE READING
Regenerate
Science Fiction"I've been stabbed in the heart before. I've been shot at point blank. Twice. I'm fine, but I certainly wouldn't recommend it." Thalia's pretty sure she can't die. Every time she's injured, her body heals itself. After running away from her foster f...
