Sal gives a small smile, just to keep Travis at bay as his mind runs wild with possibilities and theories. He subconsciously puts a hand to his scarred face. Why he was wanted dead as a child. Why the accident had happened. Why he is still alive. Why he out of everyone was corrupted. How he is losing energy day by day. And why this situation continues to get worse. "How long have you been growing your hair out?" Travis asks, though his voice sounds miles away from Sal.
"Around 8.. After my accident." Sal answers, pausing in the middle of his sentence before continuing, half paying attention.
"8?! God damn." Travis laughs, though the anxious tone creeps into his voice, and it's obvious he is trying to distract Sal and stop his thought process.
Sal nods, remembering when he still had his full pink prosthetic on, in therapy with Gizmo as a kitten on his lap. He remembers how he decided to grow out his hair, hating how the shortness reminded him of the accident that had killed his mother. He brings his thoughts back to the accident, memories that he would have preferred to have never remembered before, now trying to think of each individual detail to make it fit into the giant puzzle he had mentally created. Travis gives up on distracting him, instead leading Sal back to the bedroom and sitting him down, laying next to him. Sal continues to stare off, not caring of anything until Travis speaks up once more. "Thank you."
"For what, Travis?" he asks, bringing his attention back to the present and to the boy next to him for a bit, curiosity and confusion hinting in his voice and eyes.
"For everything." Travis says, drifting off a little and resting his face into the mattress, exhausted for some unknown reason to Sal.
Sal nods, reminding himself to tell Todd of the new info he had found as soon as Travis is out. Travis falls asleep, and Sal takes this as the opportunity to move a bit away to grab his phone, putting on his prosthetic already to message todd.
10:08 AM–Sal: hi to you too Todd. I found out smth earlier that made everything click. Can we meet on floor five in 5 to talk about it?
Sal waits for a response, climbing out of bed and freezing when Travis stirs for a moment, making sure he goes back to sleep before slipping his shoes on and sneaking out of the room. He grabs a spare hair tie, putting his hair up into a loose ponytail and hearing his phone go off.
10:12 AM–Todd: yeah, I'll be there as soon as possible.
Sal sighs in relief, leaving his apartment with his keys and rushing to the elevator, pressing the '5' button and impatiently tapping his foot. He gets to the fifth floor before Todd, waiting by the walls outside of 501, messing with his sleeves anxiously. After a couple minutes, the elevator dings again, and the doors open as Todd waits on the other side. Sal waves to the ginger, and waves him over. "Hey Sal, are you doing alright?"
Sal nods, explaining to him what had happened. "Travis has been getting messages from the cult. Threats and "curses"."
"What? See, I told you Travis wasn't on our side!" he exclaims, immediately defensive.
"They've been threatening him. It's weird though. The flashes, headaches, ears ringing, and now these–" Sal lifts up his sleeves, looking away from it but showing them to Todd, "-getting worse? Something is wrong."
Todd nods along, not daring to cut him off or interrupt him as Sal rambles on. "I was talking to him a couple days ago, and he asked me what if one of us is the prophecy boy." Sal mumbles, hesitant on telling him any more.
Todd goes pale, fixing his glasses. "I mean it would make sense, I suppose."
Sal sighs, taking off his sweatshirt and shirt and showing him a web of black marks in his veins near his lower chest over his heart, formed into a cross. "We have a huge problem, it's a miracle that Travis hadn't noticed this, but I woke up today to this..."
Todd's paleness goes to him looking as if he had seen a ghost, pointing to the marks. "You need to tell Travis about this, Sal."
"What would he even do about this? Nothing. It makes sense though. Why my life was threatened at a young age, and somehow survived despite my face. How I'm even infected like this in the first place? Why everything seems to get worse in this god forsaken town once I got here. I was told that when Travis was going to the meetings, they wanted to know about me since I moved here. There is something big going on, and it's going over our heads."
"Sal.." Todd pauses, nervous all of a sudden and reluctant to continue talking, "are you saying what i think you are? That- you can possibly be the prophecy boy?"
"I'm afraid it's possible. They wouldn't focus on anyone else this much without it meaning something. You know this better than anyone, Todd." Sal says, taking off his prosthetic and showing him. "Especially with it getting worse like this."
"If you are the 'prophecy boy' you shouldn't tell Travis anything. He could be lying to us. I mean, after all, considering he was in a cult he should be amazing at lying now." Todd says.
Sal nods, looking down and starting to put his shirt and sweatshirt back on. "You aren't looking too good Todd." he says, only a small joking tone in it.
"Just overwhelmed." Todd answers, now looking everywhere but Sal.
"Are you okay? Sorry." Sal murmurs, putting back on his prosthetic.
"Yeah. just fine. I'm worried about how fast it's spreading. We are running out of time, Sal. You know this, don't you?" Todd says.
|(Authors Note:) hellooo! I've been posting a lot of chapters today, and recently, and I'm pleased to say that I've gotten over the writers block! Merry Christmas to everyone celebrating, and enjoy!| Word count: 1001 words without authors note, 1039 with note