Episode 3 - Betrayal Know His Name

He

woke up without remembering falling asleep. He remember laying down on his sofa

after an evening meal, and started thingking about his case; just imagining a

few possibilities. He must fall asleep right then, because when the man opened

his eyes he felt a bit out of place by the sight of a wrong ceilling, the

narrow surface he sleeped on, and the blanket—or the lack of its presence. It

must be how it feels when someone is abducted while unconscious, and woke up in

unfammiliar place. Its nerve rattling; truly. Perhaps its the delicated mind of

our own; longing for something familiar, finding comfort in a place known.

That

thought triggered a surge of desperate feeling in him. Woke him up and command

his tall figure to stand and get ready for work. Bathing, dressing, leftover

from last night as breakfast, and then he’s driving his car out of apartement

complex towards the still empty streets.

-----

“You

should’ve come immediately; to the hospital or to the church; to me. Those

wounds needed stitches, stitches!” The woman is pacing back and front

inside a tiny white hospital room, her veil and white robe—she haven’t changed

from yesterday by the way—flapping around behind her angry form.

“Marie—“

“Don’t

call me Marie!” She half shouted. Eyes narrowed dangerously towards the figure

laying down on the hospital bed, covered in hospital blanket, and wearing the

sodding blue fabric given by the nurse.

“Why

would I went to the church? So they can springkle holy water at my dirtied

being?”

Marie

stopped pacing, standing in the middle of the small space beetwen the door and

the hospital bed. The corner of her eyes lit up, the small shoulder shake. The

girl let out a disbelieving laught at the words coming from the sick figure; it

is—the laugh—sound bitter.

“Im

wounded—not possesed,” The figure on the bed finished his word.

“Nobody

would springkle holy water at you,” Marie sighed, trying to calm herself down.

She is the oldest between them, more level headed, and wise with experience.

One rebellious young man shouldn’t change that. “Im just saying that we could

help; I would help,” She explained, her voice soft.

“He

wouldn’t want me to come,” The young man argued; his tone even, and expression

unreadable. He refuse to face Marie; his blue-green eyes stubbornly staring at

the ceiling. “You see how he is at the wedding; he won’t even look at me.”

The

woman noticed how his voice cracked at the end of the sentence. Like a dry

branch, snapped with too much force. The cracking echoed in her mind—it sounds

ugly and cruel. As her blue as sky eyes moistening with salty rain; brought

back memories.

-----

The

red head immediately closed the thick book in front of him, upon feeling her

touch on the shoulder; he didn’t shout or scream in terror like a frightened

kid. Perhaps because he’s not a kid anymore. He’s sitting alone in a secluded

library section, the room is a bit dark; yet he didn’t try to light the lamp.

He prefers the company of the lonely candle in front of him. The fire is blue

in the bottom, and orange at the top, the white candle is melted, dripping in a

big puddle on the table. Seems like the male teenager has spent a long time

reading.

Marie

tittle her head, moving closer towards the teenager who sat like a stone; shoulder’s

rigid, and unmoving. Ske asked; “What are you reading?”

Her

question met an unnerving silence, it’s presence in the library is huge like a

black hole that swallow everything. It’s almost like the red head boy didn’t

hear her. Receiving no answer from him, the woman went curious. Marie tried to

take a look at the book.

Strong

gush of wind slipped from a pair of parted lips, almost like a breath, or a

shallow sigh. Red as the hair, the fire on the candle that suddenly went

out.  Engulfing both figure in the

darkness. Marie didn’t see anything, beside a strange writing on the thick

green cover of the book. It was stealth, how the soft flowing air mets the fire

on the top of the candle, asking the orange light to yield—to shield something.

She didn’t suspect anything.

“I

should turn the lamp on.” The red head excused himself.

She

didn’t suspect anything, not at all. But then the weeks went by and the call come.

“Marie.

Will you fetch William for me?” The curch’s figure head got a faraway smile. He

doesn’t even look at her from behind his thick glasses.

Marie

said yes. She went running outside to fetch William. Heart thundering and mind

racing with question. She run down the hall, then outside on the garden behind

the cruch towards the boys dormnitory.

Her

chest heaving as Marie tried to fill her lungs with air, her silver cross

necklace slipped out. She asked the few boys hanging outside the dormnitory.

“Have you seen Will?”

None

of them seen him, they said he’s not in his room. One guy with buzzcut hair

advised, “Try to check the library.”

She

later find him—find William—there. Sitting in the same set of chair and table,

reading the same green book Marie been dying to know what’s inside it.

Correction; he read it, aloud. The window in front of him is opened wide, the

curtain pushed aside and tied. Theres no candle, because theres no darkness;

Will doesnt try to hide like before. In the candle place, is the sun; it’s

afternoon light shine trough the window, hugging the male figure in warmth.

Words;

gibberish, one tumbling after another. The sound confused Marie like how non

english speaker would confused her. Yet William kept going on; he read those

curly and complicated writing like he’s sure about it; the pronounciation, the

words itself, and the most important—the meaning; the believe it’s represent.

“Ax,”

She called; shes the only one who called him Ax; others calls him Will or William.

He knows she’s calling, yet he kept reading; chanting like he is in the middle

of a complicated spell.

“Ax,”

Marie repeats, louder. Ignoring the feeling in her ribs, a warning telling her

that she’s interrupting something sacred.  “Axl!”

The

reading stoped, she heard Axl whispered something—another gibberish words. Then

he close the green book, bring it in line with his face; and give it a chaste

kiss. Marie didn’t think that the gesture was sweet—but really, it is sweet.

“What

is it, Marie?” William carefully place the book back on the wooden surface. His

handsome face is calm—but not blank like usual. Marie thinks—it is almost like

the teenager is in peace.

“What

are you reading?” She asked instead.

“A

book.”

She

pressed, “What book?”

“A

holy book.”

A

surge of relief filled her, calming her rattling pulse just a little. “You

reading the holy bibble in another language or something?” She half asked, half

reassuring herself. Theres no need to worry. Theres nothing to worry about.

“No,

I don’t.”

The

words like a flying spear; it’s golden tip glingting from the sunlight before

singking into her breast—right between the ribs. Cold feeling spread from her

bleeding heart—yet she kept standing; giving a smile and lead her little

brother towards the curch. Each step she take; is a prayer that everything is

just a missunderstanding.

The

face of a man standing on the aisle was stern, his hands folded behind his

back—just like a soldier. The cold feeling in her chest doubled—Marie found

herself faltering, stopping in front of  the door the giant curch door like a fool. William steps ahead, facing

the man.

“Marie,”

The man said, “you may stay here, or you may go.”

I’ll

go. I’ll go, I’ll go!—but she was paralyzed, feets unable to

move forwards or backwards. The man accept her stillnes as an answer and began

to speak. She don’t want to hear it, she didn’t want to witness this. She

plead; ‘No. Please, no!’

“William,”

The head church stated, voice steady and loud.

“Yes.

Mr. Benjamin.”

Marie

let out a faint gasp. Ax—did he just? He’s not refering the church head as

Father or Head Priest. He just called him by his sure name—that never happen

before, she thought.

“I

was aware of your... rather peculiar activity.” Mr. Benjamin continue, after a

beat of silence that Will didn’t even try to fill; either by arguing or

denying.  “You understand that this kind

of activity will raised questions, did you?”

“I

did, Mr. Benjamin.”

The

man sighed, long and heavy. “What do you suggest I should do?” The grey haired

man start pacing, on the aisle. His footsteps echoed in the big room. “To

ensure this problem dissapear?” He added.

“You

can answer your first question with your second one, Mr benjamin.” His voice

sounds oddly cheerful for her—Marie must’ve gone deaf, or gone crazy.

William

shifted, just a little bit under the gaze of the elder man. “I’ll packed my

things right away, Mr. Benjamin.”

Mr.

Benjamin raised his hand; a gesture that stopped the young man from turning his

back and left the church. “Theres no need to,” He said, voice soft as the white

cotton fabric that they all wore on sunday morning.

Hearing

the last words; Marie felt a sparks of hope, just a little. It’s dime between

the overwhelming darkess—but it’s there. Mr. Benjamin will let William stay in

the church despite this... this new development right? He raised William—and

herself too, like them both is his own childern. He won’t kick William out just

because he no longer believe in Jesus, right?

“I’ve

sent someone to packed your things, William.”

Marie

struggled to kept herself standing amid the strong wild emotions rushed inside

her blood vassels, hands touching the cold door behind her, scrammbled to find

anchor. Her blue eyes wide in disbelief. Did he just? Did he just thrown her

brother out of their home?

There’s

only silence from the male teenager standing in front of the aisle. The light

slipped from the ventilation on the right side of the room shine warm on him;

comforting in an afternoon glow. His red hair—his peculiar red hair; whom

nobody inside the church ground had, his slightly short figure clad in white

robe, his shoulders heavy; this is the last time she see him inside a church.

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