Nocte Yin: Anti-Villain, Anti-Hero and Anti-Everything Else

Chapter Thirteen

1010 St. Lawrence Avenue was a down-trodden, trash-piling, concrete-stained apartment building in a grungy, dark, old neighbourhood set within the more crime-infested part of downtown Juncture, but Nocte knew that to the little girl, 1010 St. Lawrence Avenue was home. Thus, when the taxi dropped the pair off near the entrance, specifically under a well-lit streetlight (for security the driver probably felt), Nocte didn’t comment on her surroundings, but rather eyed the shadows as she gingerly stepped out of the car.

After the girl had paid the driver, Nocte followed her into the building while noting several shady characters at the street corner. Subtly redirecting her gaze, she did not find the foyer any more impressive than the façade outside, and she even put a hand on the girl’s shoulder to stop her from nearing the questionable elevator. It did not look safe or even working.

The girl stiffened, probably thinking the worse, and frowned when Nocte gestured to the stairs as an alternative route.

“We live on the seventeenth floor,” the girl said.

Or not.

Nocte pressed for the elevator and nearly shuddered at the gurgling noise it made as it slide down the shaft; the lights in the foyer flickering to reflect the mood. She wondered what the rent was for this place, and if it was even worth it.

When the girl entered the elevator, Nocte thought her awfully brave and decided to follow tentatively. She almost ran out of the contraption when the door began to close, but stuck with the trying endeavour and refused to let the girl get the better of her. Nocte clearly had to set a good example, obviously.

Her stomach dropped as the elevator made its slow, steady climb to the seventeenth floor. Sometime between the eighth and ninth floor, Nocte felt light-headed and knew, immediately, that she was low on oxygen. One glimpse at the oxygen tank and she saw that she was on borrowed time. Yet she held on, taking less breaths and willing the rusty elevator to move faster.

Finally, upon the arrival on the seventeenth floor, Nocte practically pushed the girl off the elevator and rushed her along the hallway to stop at the very end. Nocte could already feel her muscles growing numb as the girl fumbled for the key in her pockets and then, with a push, they were in!

Or rather the girl launched herself into the apartment and then spun around to stare at Nocte from the other side of the threshold anxiously. Even in the dim lighting of the hallway, Nocte could see the girl breaking a sweat, eyes nearly bulging in hand-wrenching worry. Even in the dim lighting of the hallway, Nocte could see the many protective charms scattered throughout the apartment, some more elaborate and difficult than Nocte had ever seen.

The girl was hoping that the charms were enough to keep Nocte, an unwelcomed guest, out, and for a moment all that concerned Nocte was who, exactly, were the girl’s family trying to keep out? More importantly, did they know who their little girl was?

Disoriented, Nocte and the girl resolved themselves to a staring contest, with the girl daring Nocte to try to enter and Nocte daring the girl to think she couldn’t, until Nocte finally realized how ridiculous it all seemed. (She blamed the thinning oxygen.) The girl could sure distort Nocte relatively fast and unexpectedly — a skill Nocte determined to never have the girl know.

Blinking, Nocte scoped out the innards of the apartment with her Sight and ascertained that there really was nothing that could stop her from entering. Although the protective charms were earnest in their goal to keep her out, the magic used to “keep her out” wasn’t exactly something to brag about. Obviously a skilled defensive magician had weaved the knots, brushed on the characters and etched the runes, but compared to Nocte’s skills… it just wasn’t going to cut it.