The Disparate One

Ray skidded and started retching behind the dumpster in one of the alleyways nearby. He eventually vomited the image out. His fingers twitched on the edge before wiping his mouth clean and sniffed. He coughed and spat before regaining his composure, avoiding any gaze to the restaurant. He caught his breath. He squinted in anger from the fact that innocent lives were being turned into something edible. A delicacy to the other innocent people above.

He gradually hobbled back to the streets, arms wrapped around him.

The thought of these people salivating for the meals made out of other people continued to disturb him. It even bothered him more when he thought about Oxford and the rest who worked in the facility.

He knew telling anyone here would only bring him to a psychiatric hospital. People would think he was on drugs, or probably an escapee. He was literally an escapee. Not the typical way other people would guess.

He needed to do something about Cal. To confront his wrongdoings and to save everyone trapped in it. More thoughts of problems about his plan suddenly started to bring headaches. He needed to get back to the facility as fast as possible. Finding shelter had now become his top priority for now. The second would be finding where he was.

He continued to limp, forcing himself to keep a straight face despite a few only dared to glance at him. Somehow they weren’t noticing something odd. He didn’t know how long he had been on the move. Though, what he only knew was him catching his breath, his mouth getting sandy, and his stomach grumbling. The complaints from his head, his foot, and other parts throughout his body weighed him down.

He kept himself upright, mumbling to himself to bring justice at all cost. To finally expose Cal to everyone. To finally put an end to the facility’s legacy.

His body slumped and he began to sway on each step he took. His vision started to blur and his hearing become muffled. His breathing shortened. He could feel his heart pounding through his chest.

After crossing the street, he deterred himself to another alleyway, behind a hotel. He propped himself against a dumpster and wheezed as if something got his throat. He dropped down when he coughed. He pulled his legs closer to him when he felt the chip in his pocket.

He brought it out for a second and started thanking the gods above because the device was still in one piece. Somehow he became more fragile than the tiny device.

He slid the device back into his pocket when he noticed his whitening hands. Forming sweat and condensation on his forehead dropped on his palms. At this point, Ray was confident he was dying. Poisoned by Cal. Somehow.

He tried to get back to his feet, but his body protested. His shaking body and headaches brought him down and his shattered left leg anchored him. He did his best to keep his eyes open, staring at the blue sky between the buildings.

Soon, his body conquered his consciousness and gradually closed his eyes. His breathing slowed and deepened. His head dropped and unbalanced his body to the asphalt. Within seconds, he heard someone opening a door, and groups of voices followed. Then, he heard their footsteps rushing towards him. His body finally failed him.

Half an hour later, an ambulance drove through the alley and screeched to a halt near the scene. The driver, who claimed to be also the paramedic, brought Ray to a stretcher and brought him to the back of the flashing vehicle. The ambulance drove away with a trail of smoke.

Another ambulance came to the scene. They claimed that they were responding to an emergency which led them here.

Ray regained his consciousness soon after. His mind was throbbing while his eyes ran around the shaking compartment. Nothing was connected to him, not even an oxygen mask. He lifted his hands when he heard something clank. He was cuffed onto the bed. He tried to speak to demand to be dropped off, only slurs came out. There was also no one with him in the compartment.

He could hear the roaring engine being pushed to its limits. He could smell the burning petrol leaking in. He looked around once more, seeing all the windows tapped with newspapers and cardboards.

Stress and anxiety returned. It weakened his body, sending him back to his slumber.

Deep in the darkness within his mind, he heard someone’s voice. He didn’t know who it belonged to. The voice was apparently singing. It even sounded from the past, as if he time traveled. The vocal was fine, but it began to warp into something unfamiliar. It turned itself into nonsense.

Where was he? Had they found out about him? Had they alerted the government? Would they think of him as an alien? Why couldn’t he see anything?

Suddenly, the voice returned, singing the same words again. Slowly, he began to feel warm all over his body. He could sense his heart still beating and his lungs expanding and contracting. Then, the voice was accompanied by instruments. He finally regained the strength to open his eyes which immediately furrowed.

He found where the music was coming from. There was a turntable nearby, its tunes echoing through the gloomy place filled with bookshelves and antiques like a grandfather clock ticking. He was on a bed, still cuffed. His left foot was bandaged up. His breathing was already laxed, most of his body was, apart from his growing head with questions.

Through the little space between each of the books was a soft orange light. He could hear crackling on the other side. A scent of burning charcoal and lit tobacco scorched his nose. He opened his mouth and let out a cough. Instantly, he heard a chair ground against the floor and footsteps towards him.

Ray stared at the end of the bookshelf where a shadow appeared. A man walked and stood in front of him. He was on the edge of the demarcation of the flickering light. Ray squinted at the stranger’s dark brown eyes in the middle of his eye mask. His gaze shimmered in the light.

“So it really is true that you have white eyes,” the stranger said.

Ray stared at the man who wore a completely black suit, blacker than Oxford’s or anyone’s he saw. It easily absorbed the light. Ray’s head sank deeper into the pillow as questions continued to pile on his head.

The stranger magically brought a mug to Ray.

“Here. This will fasten your recovery,” said the man, grabbing Ray’s hands and wrapping it around the warm mug.

Ray couldn’t form words when the man walked away without saying another word. His figure disappeared even trying to see through the books. He stared at the mug while his reflection stared back at him. The liquid in it was crystal clear. Was this water? How would water help his recovery?

Upon taking his first sip, he instantly lost control of stopping. He continued to gulp until the very last drop. The empty mug dropped and rolled on the floor.

Ray didn’t know what hit him. It was powerful that it easily knocked him out. Even his headaches. Though, what he did know was he was glad to see another day, in the same place. Still cuffed.

The bed creaked when he sat up, his spine popping. He found the same man strangely standing on the corner of the bookshelf, looking at him, his hands tucked into his pockets. Ray gulped. He remained quiet despite both looking at each other.

“How are you feeling?” the man asked calmly.

Ray checked himself, he patted his breast pocket where he could still feel the tiny device. The stranger gave a curious look.

“I-I’m fine… I guess…” said Ray.

The man lifted his shoulders for a second before walking over to him with a key. Ray rubbed his wrists while keeping his eyes on the stranger.

“Do you drink?” the man asked before tossing the cuffs away. Ray shook his head No. The man frowned, “I figured.”

The man silently walked away, leaving Ray with his questions. He carefully got off from the bed, left foot first, and turned to the other side of the shelf where he saw more books, a glowing fireplace with two chairs and tables, and a door nearby. He glued his eyes on the door.

The man made his appearance again. He was holding a book while holding a tray with his other hand. On the tray was a bottle of alcohol and two empty glasses. The man halted in front of him.

“You sure you don’t drink?” the man asked again, somehow keeping the tray balanced.

Ray hesitated which made the other raise a brow. Ray didn’t answer hence the man placed the tray on the table between the two chairs and poured themselves a drink.

“You’re very lucky Cal didn’t rip your head off,” said the man all of the sudden. It stopped Ray’s heart.

“W-where am I?” Ray asked.

“Some place where no one can find us, basically safe. For now at least,” the man put the cap back on and slid the two glasses smoothly at the top of the book. A makeshift tray. He walked back to Ray who was frozen in his place.

Ray reached out for the glass and swirled it around, staring at his own reflection on the amber liquid. He caught the man swishing the book and caught his glass in the middle of the air. He cheers the glass to Ray before gulping it in one go. Ray followed suit. He coughed. But managed to swallow.

“W-who are you?” Ray asked, slowly making his way to the fireplace where the man moved.

“I prefer you to call me Soothsayer,” the man refilled his glass, then turned to Ray who declined the offer.

Ray placed the glass on the table and stared at Soothsayer who took another gulp. Ray asked him how he knew Cal. He figured Soothsayer must know the facility as well and the people being imprisoned.

“I’m one of Oxford’s... “ Soothsayer looked away, “was Oxford’s…” he looked back to Ray, “...friend.”

Ray was invited to sit down when Soothsayer took his. He rested his feet on the ottoman and stared at the dancing flames. Without asking, Soothsayer started telling how he met Oxford.

Soothsayer was listening to the members of the management discuss long-term plans for the facility itself, including its two sisters. He was sitting behind his podium in silence, his arms crossed flat on the surface when his eyes caught two men walking into the dome. One was a young teen and the other was a muscular adult. He furrowed as he saw visions from the teen who later named to be Oxford.

After the meeting, Soothsayer followed the two around, observing them in their daily life. He watched Oxford grow to the person he knew today. Sadly, he foresaw his predecessor’s death. He wanted to warn him about it, but the consequences were dire. He calmly watched the two get separated for their last time.

He knew that specific moment sparked something within Oxford, hence he wasn’t surprised to see the next day where the facility was in complete chaos. He knew Oxford started the rebellion against the management. He wasn’t also surprised when Oxford managed to capture him before escaping the facility as the fire of the rebellion was being stomped out. All because of Cal.

Both of them escaped the facility and found an abandoned factory outside of the city. From that day forth, Soothsayer warned Oxford regarding the events he could foresee, until days ago when he told him that the two of them would no longer see each other, which Soothsayer already knew years ago. On the first moment, he laid his eyes on him back in the dome.

Ray remained silent in his chair. After hearing that story, he wanted to drink another glass again. Soothsayer poured him and together cheers.

“So you knew… that I would come?”

Soothsayer nodded slowly, keeping his gaze at the blaze. He wished he could’ve told Oxford about it. That he was right. That Ray was the person he kept mentioning in his previous prophecy. He distraughtly accepted his limitations.

“What did you tell Oxford?” Ray reached for the bottle, refilling his glass. He drank.

“Told him that he would finally get what he desired ever since he got separated from his predecessor, in exchange for blood, betrayal, and me…”

Ray casually poured himself another.

“...and you.”

Ray spat and coughed out his drink when he darted his eyes at Soothsayer. He frighteningly furrowed at him. He assumed he was joking, but hearing his voice and his story, he could tell he really wasn’t that type of a guy. He gulped when he wiped his mouth. He placed his empty glass on the table.

“What do you mean?” he asked, leaning onto the fire and grasping his hands.

Soothsayer calmly looked at him.

“He will lose you.”

Just what he needed. To clarify that, like Soothsayer, he won’t be able to see Oxford for the rest of his life. He forced himself to look at Soothsayer who had the same sad eyes that Oxford last saw.

“Will I die?”

Soothsayer chuckled, shaking his head while drinking his glass. A smirk grew out of nowhere.

“You don’t.”

This was somehow a relief to Ray. He bravely chose to accept this compromise if it would give Oxford the life he wanted. Oxford deserved it. It was long overdue. Heck, no one should really be working for that facility in the first place.

“So… you’re telling me that there is a chance that everyone will be saved?”

Soothsayer looked at him with a brow raised.

“‘Chance. Everyone’? Ray, what comes out of my mouth will definitely happen, no matter what you do, no matter what everyone does,” he drank again. “You won’t be able to save everyone.”

Staring at the fire, Ray couldn’t believe he still had a chance… a way for him to save most of everybody. The warmth from the fire brought enthusiasm. He wanted… he needed to go back to the facility. To finally put an end to this terror. Ray gripped his hands tighter. He shot a glance at Soothsayer who suddenly spoke.

“I know a way where you can get back to the facility.”

“R-really?”

“Of course… don’t you remember, I used to be one of the members of the management,” Soothsayer stood up after emptying the bottle. He walked straight to the door, striding before it.

“Try not to trip the traps,” warned Soothsayer, opening the door.

Ray did as he was told and followed exactly all Soothsayer’s movements. He squinted at the trap, the rock, then another trap again on their way out of the darkness. He kept his distance close to Soothsayer as they walked up the staircase that was being slowly consumed by nature.

Ray gazed around the abandoned building. Seeing rusts on each metal joint, cracks on concrete walls and unlevelled floors, vines sprawling up, and rays of morning sunlight seeping through. A few birds chirped and flew away when the two appeared.

Soothsayer led Ray to the garage where numerous vehicles slept. He opened one of the cabinets nearby and grabbed one of the keys. Ray remained on the docking bay, admiring the types of dusty vehicles, one of which was steam-powered, as if it came from a museum.

Soothsayer pressed the button and the familiar-looking ambulance beeped. Ray hopped into the passenger seat with an odd look. A hazy picture of Fier appeared in the distance in front of him all of the sudden.

Soothsayer started the engine and casually drove away from the area. While their ambulance bounced on the empty, vegetated streets, something came to Ray. He curiously blinked away to the window behind him for a second. He noticed the windows on the compartment were covered with newspapers and cardboard. The smell of petrol leaking into the air. He gradually turned to Soothsayer, asking.

“You knew where I was when I passed out, didn’t you?”

Soothsayer returned a glance at Ray.

“Hm? Oh. Definitely.”

Ray looked away again, staring at the road placed over the hill. The engine roared when they began their ascend. He slightly raised himself from his seat, trying to see what was on the other side.

“Since… you know what will happen to Oxford… Do you also know what will happen to me?”

Soothsayer kept his feet on the pedal as he steered the wheel with one hand. He placed his head on his other, staring at Ray’s reflection on the windshield. He inhaled deeply and softly exhaled.

“Don’t try fighting Cal at the beginning all by yourself. Instead, when you get to the facility, search for Oxford and the others, everyone. Cal hasn’t executed them. Not all. But them.”

They continued to drive through the streets, arriving at an abandoned town. The ambulance continued to show no care at all. Ray just now fastened his seatbelt. Soothsayer continued to talk.

“There will be someone waiting for you at the facility. You’ll meet him somewhere eventually.”

Ray nodded, jotting every word from Soothsayer’s mouth into his mind. He recalled them every second. Don’t fight alone. Look for everyone. Someone will be waiting for him. These were very useful information. But, there were still a lot of questions to ask. He didn’t know if he could squeeze them on their trip. However, before he could ask a new one, Soothsayer still hadn’t answered his first question.

“Y-you… haven’t clearly told me what would happen to me,” stated Ray.

Silence took over the compartment. The engine went to a hum as the street leveled out and merged with the traffic. Soothsayer carefully constructed his answer with simple, yet concise and straightforward words. He breathed heavily again.

“You’ll get out of there alive,” he said nonchalantly.

Ray nodded back, staring out the window, seeing strangers not to worry about any of these. He wanted to ask about the sudden change of Soothsayer’s aura. He could smell trouble was coming. He could easily tell he was hiding something behind that eye mask.

“Is there something you’re not telling me that you shouldn’t tell?” Ray gulped. Soothsayer nodded and finally gave him an emotionless look. The same look he had earlier and the last Oxford saw.

“You will be betrayed.”