Chapter 17
Rand looked at the departing police car from his balcony.
He silently stood there in place for a while and then returned inside his home. He walked into the kitchen and began pouring coffee beans in the coffee grinder.
Oh, that's right, he surely remembers that he is still in the midst of a vaccination period, but he began feeling that he was unable to resist that type of craving— thirsting for that type of sweet as well as scalding hot cheap instant coffee.
This is very rare because he has never once wanted to drink that kind of thing after that night ever since he was 14 years old.
Perhaps it was just because the unpleasant contact with the police called these memories back to his mind. Rand thought so, but he found that his hands were badly trembling. The dark brown coffee beans fell onto the table and then dropped onto the matte gray surface of the kitchen floor.
I should clean this place up.
Rand seemed to be able to hear another voice inside him talking and muttering, but all he could do was just numbly stand there.
He found himself unable to move.
So cold...
In the high temperatures of Kansas, Rand nevertheless felt that kind of cold in his own kitchen that seemed to freeze people's nerves. He breathed in large gasps of warm air, but the icy chill that seemed to spread from the depths of his body had already frozen his entire being.
Rand felt himself falling into a trance.
He seems to have returned to that night when he was fourteen-years-old once more. The lighting of the police department was dim. There are various kinds of stains on the walls of unidentifiable origins. The air is permeated with a turbid smell— from those drug addicts, drunkards, and the scent of the heavy perfume brought in by the prostitutes.
He sat in on an uncomfortably hard chair and his body was uncontrollably rocking back and forth.
Everything in his surroundings is just like a viscous liquid wrapped around him. His mind was blank white. Someone came over and asked for his name...
He does not know.
To him, his past was like a vacant dense fog, everything was so muddled, only a vague fear stayed behind in the dense fog.
Then, a boy who was thinner and paler than many of his age group bowed his head and looked at his hand... there were jet-black stains under his fingernails.
But Rand knew that it was not a stain, it was just dried up stains of blood.
The coldness came to hit him right at that moment. His heart was beating like it was nearly about to explode. He forced his mouth open and tried to breathe as if his life depended on it, but the air was unable to enter his lungs at all as if there was an incorporeal hand choking his windpipe.
The strange thing is that he can clearly draw out the outline of the hand's appearance in his mind, withered, slender, damp, and ice-cold skin.
After a few tens of seconds, as he lay flat on the ground with his complexion ashen, a female police officer found his peculiarity (at that time he was desperately rolling on the ground, his legs powerlessly flailing on the floor).
"My God, ah, this child has asthma..."
......
......
......
Hey, calm, calm down, look at me... Rand... Look at me... breathe in... breathe out... breathe in... breathe out... Rand..."
A voice is talking to him.
Rand instinctively obeyed his words, and this again took a very long time (of course, it was probably only a moment), it was then he realized that the person speaking was Rogers.
His brightly colored hair in his blurred line of sight is practically a stab of pain to human's eyes.
He was kneeling on the floor, one hand holding Rand, and the other hand holding a brown kraft paper bag over his mouth and nose. Rand looked at him from an extremely close distance and found that Rogers had a pair of abnormally light gray eyes.
These two eyes look simply reptile-like at a certain angle. There are no proper emotions that human beings should have, causing people to instinctively tremble with fear— of course, this feeling only lasted for a very brief moment, even Rand himself wasn't aware of it because another feeling confused him: familiarity.
Rand's consciousness swayed for a split-second, it was as if this scene had happened many times before.
(Someone used to emotionlessly fix their reptilian eyes on him, practically suffocating him)
Rogers's hand was propping up Rand by his neck, his hand was unusually stable compared to the anxious expression he was showing. It was abnormally ice-cold, like the hand of a dead man who had been chilled for a long time in a freezer's icebox. His skin slightly shrunk back under the effect of the cold air, there is a wrinkled-paper-like feel— but, damn it, what was he thinking!
Rand suddenly shook him off and then the whole world finally came back to him
The air was warm, Rogers's voice was tense and loud, and under his body, there were coffee beans. Not too far away, some daily necessities were disorderly scattered on the ground, evidently, Rodgers's leather bag had been carrying them before.
"Hey, I think I'm good."
Rand leveled out the rhythm of his breathing a bit and he finally had the strength to slowly push Rogers's hand away.
Rogers blinked his eyes, his fake eyelashes and around his eyes were covered with small rhinestones, he stared at Rand.
"Man, don't you know anything— if you have asthma, you should keep your inhaler at your fingertips!"
He exclaimed in fright and then as if he had finally come back to earth, he sat down on the floor with both of his hands propped up on the floor behind him.
"You almost scared me to death!"
After a while he opened up his hand and patted his chest, adding on that if he could overlook the resin rose flower decorations on his fingernails, he would indeed appear frightened.
Rand couldn't help but feel apologetic for him instinctively resisting in that split second. After all, Rogers now seems to be sincerely worried about him.
"Sorry," he said insipidly, "I didn't anticipate it either... it's just neurofunctional asthma. I haven't had this ailment relapse for a long time. I thought it already got better."
Rand very slowly supported himself with the kitchen counter to stand up. His legs were still a bit wobbly, but he was already almost completely returned to normal.
"Neuro...functional asthma?"
"Ah, that's right, it's kind of..." Rand struggled to look for the exact words in his still muddled mind to explain, "It's an issue of the psychological nature, I think."
Rogers looked straight at Rand and he blinked his eyes once again (Rand was unable to ignore him blinking because those rhinestones were really way too shiny), he parted his lips, but in the end, he simply said: "Oh. That sounds like it's somewhat troublesome." Then he thought for a moment and once again added on another sentence, "But everything will be fine, right?"
He very obviously wanted to comfort Rand.
A wave of warmth swept over Rand, and for the first time, he let a bit of weakness show in front of a person that he wouldn't say he knew well— he asked Rogers to give him a super hot cup of coffee with a lot of syrup added in.
Rogers looked extremely concerned about his condition and he still compelled Rand to eat some of the new pastries he made: butter cookies sandwiched with marshmallows and peanut butter, covered in a brittle milk chocolate ganache shell.
Even though both his physical and mental state is abnormally fragile, Rand must admit that perhaps these a bit too sweet and unctuous pastries can create the illusion that everything is alright.
Perhaps it is due to this illusion that when Rand drinks down the last mouthful of coffee, he opens his mouth to talk as if he were possessed.
"Actually, the doctor said that I might have suffered some serious psychological trauma."
He said to Rogers.
"I think you should know that I had once... once..."
"Been kidnapped." Rogers opened his mouth and interrupted the words he hesitated to speak. In the next second, the man dressed to the nines and wearing heavy makeup showed an embarrassed expression and covered his mouth with his hand. "My bad, I just wasn't thinking..."
"Ah, no, no, it's alright. After all, it was pretty famous, wasn't it?" Contrary to expectations, Rand was relaxed, "I heard that the entirety of the United States was broadcasting my missing person's notice at that time."
Rand did not misspeak.
Eighteen years ago, the kidnapping case concerning him was overwhelming the entire United States.
During the summer vacation, a mentally ill woman broke directly into the Sievers' Los Angeles residence in broad daylight, where she then left after abducting the barely 10-year-old Rand Sievers. At the time, Rand's father and mother were both busy with a very important experiment at the company and so, a 16-year-old Vincent Sievers accompanied Rand at home.
However, Rand was nevertheless taken away.
If the case was only like this, the whole narrative would have reached the point where people would still be mindful of it 18 years later. The real turmoil occurred after had disappeared for a week. Someone found four ruthlessly murdered bodies in a luxurious vacation villa in the vicinity of Los Angeles— the bodies in the villa was the whole family of the owner.
What made people think that the matter was outlandish was that according to the CCTV records in the villa, the victims were killed a week ago, i.e. they were murdered on the same day Rand went missing...
Afterward, a young woman with Rand and another child spent an entire lavish and delightful week in the villa under the identity as its owner. That woman had even held a party. Almost everyone completely believed in her excuse that "the previous owner's investments failed and he gave the villa to her as collateral for a loan". After all, she was so charming, humorous and graceful.
As people caroused in the outdoor swimming pool, four dead bodies were rotting in the basement.
The foul odor, in the end, was almost intolerable, but by the time the corpses were discovered, that woman had already disappeared without a trace along with Rand and the other child.
The tragedy of the whole family being massacred was dubbed by the media at that time as "The Los Angeles Proxy Murder Case"— unfortunately, this was only the beginning.
From that day on, pretty much every once in a while, similar cases would happen.
At times it would be the owner of a lavish villa, sometimes a happy middle-class home in a model community, sometimes a poor but happy family in a trailer park... That woman changed her appearance through various means to kill the original owners of the residences. Then, along with the two children, she passed herself off as the real homeowner and after a dreamlike family life, they then quickly disappeared.
According to the small bits of information that the FBI later circulated, the evaluation of the woman at the time inside the institution was "unimaginably high IQ and cold-blooded."
She is simply the Lilith of the criminal world, utterly playing law enforcement agencies right into the palms of her hands back then. Her modus operandi, appearance, and whereabouts are simply impeccable. She has only one point that has never changed, Rand.
(TN: Lilith is a figure in Jewish folklore, she was said to be the "First Eve" who after a disagreement with Adam, fled the garden of Eden. God sent three angels after her and found her bearing children in a cave, but she refused to go back. They told her that they would kill 100 of her children a day for her disobedience. In revenge, she is said to rob children of life and is said to be responsible for stillborns and crib deaths.)
No matter what, she takes along Rand at all times.
Until two years later.
"Lilith's"' modus operandi grew too flamboyant and predictable. After investing a lot of manpower and material resources, the FBI finally caught her fox's tail.
(TN: Evidence that reveals one's evil nature/ villain.)
However, in the cottage where she ultimately committed suicide, there was no trace of Rand or the boy known as "the other one."
The people only found a large number of a boy's bloody belongings in the luggage "Lilith" carried on her person, but according to the identification, those bloodstains did not belong to Rand.
Following the death of "Lilith", Rand's whereabouts had nearly become an enigma to pass into eternity.
In fact, after Rand was returned to the Sievers Family, if it wasn't for Vincent's ability to strike fear into the hearts of people and using all the resources that could be used to forcefully suppress the entire American media, it would hardly be possible for Rand Sievers to have this kind of fairly peaceful life.
For this bit, Rand had to admit that he was exceptionally grateful to Vincent.
"But, when you appeared two years later, everyone should have noticed that, right?"
Rogers sat next to Rand and he spoke with a relaxed posture.
Rand showed him a subtle smile.
"Oh, actually, when I reappeared again, apart from my amnesia... there were also some other changes." He said, "Bringing it up, it's something that's very hard to believe but, my appearance had a few changes and my blood type had also changed. If it was not for the final DNA identification, I don't think anyone would think that I was that Rand Sievers. In fact, I know that there are still a lot of people that think that I am just a swindler trying to break up the Sievers Family assets."
Rand said laughing at himself.
What did the child Rand prior to ten-years-old look like? He had seen that child in pictures and on the videotapes.
The vice of intermarriage between close relatives of the Sievers Family from Europe directly led to a genetic disease in the entire family. Like Vincent, he had some mild albinism symptoms— almost exactly the same as his father. That sort of ghastly pale white skin, fair blond light-colored hair was even the symbol of the Sievers Family. However, when he appeared again in front of the world fourteen years ago, he was a normal boy with dark black hair and green eyes.
At the same time, his blood had also turned into a rare blood type.
So rare that Vincent strictly forbade him from revealing the issue of his blood to anyone.
......
In this conversation with Rogers, Rand didn't actually say too much of anything— after all, this is the first time he talked about the completely senseless kidnapping, or those bloody cases that caused many veteran detectives to ultimately commit suicide... It's a very awkward thing.
Rand only said a few things about mental treatment. He has some minor problems, yet doctors are always making a fuss over nothing. Rogers even show a sympathetic response to this— many years ago he was sent to see a psychiatrist just because of his mascara.
"...Of course, the effects are not very bad either, that doctor's stuff is incredibly wonderful."
Rogers finally licked his lips and recalled that there was some red blush on his cheeks, but Rand supposed that it should just be rouge.
Well, except for some of Rogers's occasional remarks that made Rand feel a bit uncomfortable, this conversation was enjoyable as a whole.
The conversation with him made Rand feel relaxed and happy, although at a certain moment, for a very short period of time, he still felt a little bit of fear towards Rogers.
Rand didn't know if it was some damned suspension bridge effect or anything else, even simply the abnormal mutation next to the ORML3 gene (this kind of mutation can lead to misregulation in the production of sphingolipids— this variation directly correlates to the emergence of asthma) He nevertheless thinks that Rogers gives him a feeling of being like a friend.
(TN: Suspension Bridge Effect, or being put in a near-death situation/being saved my someone makes you mistakenly attribute the emotions and adrenaline you feel at the time as love or other positive emotions. On a side note, the scientific jargon about the ORML3 gene checks out, the author really did their research lmao!)
In wake of night falling, Rogers and Rand ended this socialization. When Rand sent Rogers off, he finally realized why he always felt that something was off before.
This apartment building's door locks had clearly been detached off to the side, and there was a distinct footprint on the outer side of the door— no matter what state it was before, the hinges currently appearing in Rand's sight is already no longer usable.
God knows how much strength Rogers used when kicking the door open. Rand involuntarily stroked the door and found that the boarding there as almost completely split open.
"I'm really sorry."
Rogers with his fingers running through his red hair shrugged his shoulders and spoke in a bit of embarrassment.
Evidently, the reason why he was able to show up next to Rand was that he kicked right through his door lock.
......
Rand did not speak, and he looked at him in bewilderment.
His asthma flaring up, even breathing was a humongous challenge. He was on his last breath and noiselessly fell on the floor— in theory, Rogers should not be aware of it nor should it have been possible as his neighbor. But Rogers nevertheless broke into his room at the most crucial moment and then saved him.
This sort of thing may be extremely difficult to explain using coincidence.
As a person who was forced into a nervous breakdown by Vincent's desire for control, Rand's mental guard against this kind of thing has almost been ingrained in his genes. He is sincerely hoped that Rogers could give him a rational explanation.
"I just didn't feel right then, so I didn't control my strength." Rogers took a step back and said to Rand. "Really, this is going to sound super ridiculous, but when I passed by your door, I thought I heard some kind of noise."
"Noise?"
"Ah, yes, I don't know how to describe it. In short, it is a very unsettling sound. I think it was a bit like white noise, but... no, it's different... The instant I heard that noise, I just felt that something extremely wrong was happening in your room, so I broke in."
He blinked again, and there was a touch of genuine emotion that really belonged to him in his eyes— suspicions were swept away at lightning speed.
Rogers knew he did not tell a lie.
"Listen, Rand, if you think that there is something wrong with what I did, I... alright, I don't know how to explain it, but that's the way it is."
Rogers looked very worried.
Rand bowed his head and bitterly laughed. He must admit that Rogers is someone who is an expert at using his influence on others, at least in the face of this kind of explanation that could very easily be taken as a joke, Rand found himself genuinely begin to believe his statement.
"Well, maybe this was God's will."
He said to Rogers.
After making a call to the administrator to come to deal with the door lock, Rand still felt confused about the so-called "white noise."
Was it a kind of sound that made people feel uneasy and can amplify emotions as long as they hear it?
After all, there was only one other living creature left in the room apart from him (who was laying on the ground convulsing like a lunatic) was the fish, nothing else.
Rand thought as he slowly approached the aquarium.
However, after seeing the state of the aquarium, Rand can't help but widen his eyes.
(TN: Nope. Calling bullshit. The odd emphasis of the other boy that tagged along with Rand. Literally everything changing from his appearance to blood type. Uhhhhh I don't care what the DNA testing says. I'm not having it. Also! Something is wrong with Munster, pray for him!)