Civility [HIATUS]

3. When the Puppet Master Besieges the Truth, and so he Quakes

3. When the Puppet Master Besieges the Truth, and so he Quakes

            Having just woken after knocking his head against the car window, Rin was a little more than disoriented. His head was about to explode from the migraine that was pounding against it. It was like his brain had been replaced by a machine gun that was firing off inside his skull. The bullets were being lodged into his cranium and that terrible cracking sound caused his heartbeat to throb within his ears. It was excruciating, and every time that girl spoke, he wanted to shoot himself in the head to get it over with.

            Or maybe he could just shoot her.

            The thought had crossed his mind plenty of times already, and it would’ve been easy, too. All Rin had to do was point his finger, and he could slice off her head like he was directing a laser. But no, he couldn’t. She was far too innocent, and she reminded him of child. No matter what, Rin never targeted children.

            Her name was Jane Doe--literally, Jane Doe--and she was one of those rare types of people that came around once in a blue moon. She was smaller than him, fragile, with porcelain skin and hair the color of pumpkins. He’d never seen anything like her, and although he’d seen old pics and heard stories about people with fair features, he doubted he’d ever meet one. Her voice was soft and her hands small, but when she grabbed the wheel of her ancient truck-thing, Jane Doe became a maniac.

            “There isn’t a scratch on it, Rin,” Jane said from the driver’s seat. Needles bore into his eyes at the sound of her voice, and he cringed. She held up an old pic. “And then there’s this.”

            Rin didn’t bother looking at it. He rubbed his head and released a breath. “I could’ve just had a concussion, Jane. Shouldn’t you…?”

            His gaze locked with what she held in her hand, and he trailed off. It was the pic she’d snapped of the chopper. Apparently, it’d disappeared into thin air, but of course he wasn’t conscious to see it happen for himself.

            Jane’s mint green eyes were wide. “You see it, too, don’t you? There’s nobody piloting the chopper.”

            Rin pursed his lips, and he leaned a little closer to get a better look. Even from such an altitude, Rin could see an empty space where the pilot should’ve been. Maybe the choppers had vanished after all, but then again, Rin was sure that with today’s technology, they could make helicopters that piloted themselves. Still, Jane’s truck was unscathed, and he couldn’t just imagine the sound of bullets jamming into the roof above him.

            There’s definitely something fucked up going on, Rin thought.

            Not only were those choppers acting out of line, but that bomb was made to wipe out everything in its path, yet he and Jane survived. And why? Because Rin was stupid enough to actually try and save someone, and as it turned out, he succeeded.

            He still didn’t understand that part, or the part where he’d been able to protect them from the chopper’s bullets. For the past two years, Rin had something he called his puppet-wire, but not a shield that could hold back a nuclear blast. It was insane, completely unreal, and Jane kept asking him questions.

            “Rin, if you’re not telling me something--”

            “What?” he asked, his migraine getting the best of him. He glared at her. “You think I know something? That there’s some magical secret society out to get me because I’m a freak? No, that’s bullshit. I’m just as confused as you are.”