The Moros Murders

Medea

You see, our society is made up of many different species. Trolls, Goblins, Rakians, Corras, Witches, Crassa, humans and so on live side by side in a complex network of cultures and alliances. Creatures like Dragons and Lycans, they don’t exist, well not anymore. However, I think that just because something hasn’t been seen in years, doesn’t exactly mean that they don’t exist. Within the human race there are powered humans; humans with a slightly different genetic makeup which causes them to possess powers. These humans are called Draoi. All children at the age of twelve have to be tested to see if they are Draoi, and if they come back positive, then they’re sent to the camps. Supposedly, they’re training camps, but they’re more like prisons. Although similar powers can be passed down through families, like fingerprints or snowflakes, no power duplicates perfectly from person to person. Every power is unique.

There are different categories and classes of powers. Categories are: Shifters, Naturals - with many subsections such as elementals and weather manipulation, Builders, Destroyers, Techs, Illusionists, Healers and the rarest Psyches. The classes work in an A to D grading system, A being the most powerful. Class A’s are the most powerful and extraordinary of them all possessing seemingly omnipotent power; so rare, most people don’t believe that they exist. The reason why psyches are so rare is because low level psyches might not even know they have any powers, and often won’t show up in tests, they will just have good intuition and be good at reading people. High level psyches are incredibly dangerous, so they tend to either face execution or indefinite imprisonment. In the Dregs, where thousands of homeless children roam unchecked, many kids slip through the cracks and don’t get tested. Like me.

I started showing my powers early, when I was eight. My mum knew what this meant, I’m a grade A. Not only am I grade A but I’m also a Psyche, not a good combination if you’re planning on living. Since I’m a Dreg and not an upper, had I been found out, I’d have most likely been killed instantly.

On the day of the test, I had to stay calm although I was sure I would be dead by the end of the day. My mum had told me what to do. She had said to go to school as normal, then right before my test to take the elixir she had given me which would cause me to pass out. They can’t perform the test unless you’re awake and well, it can mess with the results. If you’re registered as in school the day of the test, they won’t ask you to do it the next year, because there would be no reason to think that you weren’t tested. Of course, tests for the uppers are much more regulated and pleasant so it would be very hard for one to slip through the cracks unless the tester was paid off.

As a class A psyche, I can do a lot of things but because I’m still young, I lack control. When you’re young with as much power as I have, it’s difficult to regulate how much energy you use. So, whilst using my powers, I can get tired quickly. Especially because of the scale of what I can do. I can read minds; I can enter minds; I can move things with my mind; I can alter memories; put thoughts in people’s heads; I can even control people’s minds - although I have only ever tried it on a mouse and I passed out after ten seconds, I also fried its brains and I myself had a migraine for a week after that, so it’s not something that I’ll be trying again soon .

I knelt in front of Mory and placed my palms on either side of his head, sending out a wave of calming energy. I closed my eyes and focused my thoughts, picturing the door to his mind. With a swift movement, I flung it open and stepped through. A bright jolt shot through my body like an electric shock, momentarily blinding me. When my vision returned, the dank smell of the alley was replaced by the strong scent of salt and seaweed. I was standing in a marshland filled with puddles of murky water that stretched as far as the eye could see, their surfaces shimmering in the light. The ground beneath my feet was soft and spongy, almost like bouncing on a trampoline. Well, this is a first,I thought to myself.

Each puddle holds a memory, there are endless puddles,these memories are meaningless, I thought to myself,They’re there to distract me from the important ones. Secrets are precious and precious things are well guarded.

Squinting, I slowly made out a small, distant shape gradually taking form. As I inched closer, the black blob transformed into an imposing, rust-covered metal gate with ancient detailing. The hinges were oxidised and rusted from years of neglect and its thick brass padlock was firmly secured. I could make out a cobblestone path that seemed to go on for miles as it wound through tall grass and scattered debris, creating an eerie atmosphere that reminded me of a forgotten graveyard.

I scanned the floor until my eyes landed on a large, smooth black rock. I bent down and grasped it firmly in my hand, raised it over my shoulder, and brought it crashing down onto the lock. I repeated this action several more times until the metal of the lock gave way with a satisfying crunch. “This place is about as secure as a cut rope,” I mumbled to myself before pushing open the iron gate.

I stood over one of the puddles, gazing into it. I didn’t even notice myself falling until I hit the water, which turned into a room the second I hit it. Suddenly I was in a filthy room, I didn’t even have time to look around before I turned to face a teenage Mory who shot his gun straight at me. I stumbled back shocked, and fell to the ground of the marshes. I caught my breath before moving on.I need to be careful, I could’ve chucked myself out of his mind, not just the memory. That must’ve been a hit, so Mory’s an assassin, that’s something- I thought to myself before approaching another puddle and trying again.

It took me a few tries and a few more close calls before I found a puddle with anything useful. I stepped into the puddle and around me materialised a room. The room was opulent but homey, boasting a large fireplace, heavy draperies, and plush furniture. It was dominated by a tall, regal thirty something woman sitting in a crimson velvet chair. Her dark hair was done up in a bun with wavy tendrils of hair framing her face. With the rich fabric she adorned and the air of authority that surrounded her, it was clear that she was the one in charge. But her face was blank. I giggled, “You’re hiding her from me, Mory. Well done. Don’t worry, she may be important, but I’ve got a feeling that she’s not what I’m looking for.”

The woman’s voice carried through the room with a hint of age around its edges. Not young, but not quite middle aged yet either. The authority in her tone was unmistakable as she spoke, “You’ve done well, Mory, the Syndicate appreciates your service.”

A memory sparked in my own mind, one of my old lessons, my mothers voice rang in my ears, “-the Syndicate, the best Assassins guild in the world. Yet very few know of their existence. That’s why they’re the best.”

The woman continued speaking, “How is Cassius? Still sulking?”

Mory responded, “He didn’t want that job. They were just kids, he’s messed up about it.”

“It wasn’t about the kids, he should feel proud that he is responsible for killing one of the strongest warriors of our age. Luanna Moros is quite the conquest,” she let out an evil laugh.

I gasped as I realised they were talking about the hit on my family, but my joy was short lived as I was thrown from the memory. Standing in the marshes, I could feel the energy in my body depleting. I had the name of the killer and the name of the organisation. Much more than I ever thought I would get. I couldn’t risk passing out with a hostage in some back alley so I pulled myself from his mind. Mind diving is a fine art that requires patience. It’s something I am yet to perfect.

My head spun as I plummeted back into reality, feeling the fatigue in my muscles craving for rest and the burning of caffeine deprivation. My eyes locked onto Mory and I saw his life pass before me in a fraction of a second; did he deserve to live? It was only a split-second decision - either way, he had to be put down. To let him go would mean certain death for me, news of my knowledge of their secrets travelling like wildfire back to his organisation. However, his blood-stained history spoke volumes of the lives he so cruelly snatched away in alleys such as this - no mercy found here, only an inevitable ending.

I tenderly removed the necklace from around my neck, a family heirloom with a monogrammed M on the front, and placed it around Mory’s jugular. His throat was exposed, and I held my foot between his shoulder blades, straining to pull the wire taut as he gasped for breath. With one hand I felt along the back of the disk until I found the button. As soon as I pressed it, electricity crackled through the wire, heating it to an unbearable temperature. His skin blistered and popped, and I dragged the disk down until it came out of the other side, singing and smoking. As soon as the last bit of wire moved out of the circle, Mory lay on the ground—headless. People might argue that I could’ve broken his mind instead of killing him, but I find that unnecessarily cruel. Death is much kinder.