Chapter 57: Dream
Despite everything, the world continued to spin. The first light of dawn painted the eastern horizon in pale lilac, but in the staff bathroom of the small thrift store I had broken into it was still dark. The single light bulb hanging from the ceiling was too weak to dispel the shadows that stubbornly clung to the corners. Leaning on the cold white sink with both hands, I slowly raised my head and looked at the grim, exhausted man looking back at me from the dirty mirror.
My eyes were lost in darkness, my skin pale, with sharp edges where there were none before. My clothes were torn and dirty. My face and hair were covered in dried blood. Now that the secret was out and the Protector knew about the full extent of my Ability, the mask I so carefully created to fool the whole world was finally gone, revealing my true self. I had worn it for so long that the person beneath almost looked like a stranger.
There was no grief on his face, no fear, no desperation. No human emotion at all. Just cold, indifferent resignation. Was this truly what I looked like behind all the lies and pretense? I guess I did. Actually, this bloodied, beaten man was more suitable to represent me than my usual fake, harmless self.
This is how a wraith was supposed to look.
I turned the water on and started to scrape the blood off my face. It was Mickey’s blood. Yet cleaning myself from it did not feel like something that was worth a mention. It was almost mundane. Maybe I was too tired and overwhelmed to feel any kind of emotion, or maybe it was just exactly what I have always expected my life to become, so it didn’t come as a revelation. I was always bound to end up in this moment. It was always the only logical conclusion.
Everything ends in destruction.
Now the only thing left to do was to decide the nature of my ending. By now, the Agency must have had enough time to turn the whole city into a giant mousetrap. Mickey’s attack on the testing chamber was bad enough, but the sudden appearance of a hidden Category 1 wraith would definitely make them mobilize their full force. Chances of getting out of the trap unnoticed were slim at best. Fighting my way out was equally as unlikely.
I took my clothes off and left them on the floor. My body was covered in scrapes and contusions. The whole right side of it was a mass of blue and red. Each breath sent a jolt of pain through my chest, telling me that I had broken at least a couple of ribs. I tentatively touched the blue bruises and flinched, exhaling sharply. Then I wriggled the fingers of my right hand, making sure that it was still working.
In truth, the few choices I had were either to give up without trying, go out in a blaze of violent glory like a feral wraith everyone expected me to be, or off myself like Mickey’s dad.
Also, there was Zero.
I could try to find him, either to beg him to save my life or to take him down to Hell with me.