Rose Lament

Prequel

Author: Azure Fantasy

All Rights Reserved©

"Thorned Roses Do Not Cry, Only Whisper Sweet Laments"

-Funeral March-

The room fell quiet as the loud ring resonated, bouncing across the hallway walls. The professor entered the room, quietly but quickly. His sharp blue eyes gazed momentarily across the ones seated in the back of the room. He knew everyone by their face and knew immediately who was absent. He gave a small grunt as he noticed an empty seat and turned to the board to write today’s work.

As the professor traced the words in big white letters, Jonathan Hughes looked at the empty seat and sighed. The absentee hadn’t been in school in a few and the teacher has already called his home a few times but received no direct answer.

However, each time Jonathan called, the other never picked up and each time he visited, the other had gone away. He had first disappeared last Tuesday and today was Monday, almost an entire week had passed since he saw his best friend. Truthfully, he was worried and confused. His friend had left no indication of acting this way and such behavior didn’t match Jonathan’s memory of him.

Jonathan’s blue eyes went back to the blackboard, failing to block out thoughts of his friend. Edgar White was the professor’s name. A true American; never forgot to fly his flag high or polish his gun. One might wonder why he had moved from Seattle to Brant but he had never told a soul why. He was a strong and quiet man, well into his forties. He barely ever says a word in class as he resorted to writing down his notes on the board and any homework as well. The only time he speaks when someone asks him a question but even then, only on rare occasions does someone need to. His behavior was sharp and strict, he didn’t let anyone get off easy or slide. He was a perfectionist; he wants things to be where they belong and properly cleaned or dressed.

Human Biology was his passion apparently. Often, the teachers seek the professor in the library or in the laboratory as that is where he seems to spend all his time, either researching or manipulating cells. Nothing too out of the ordinary but every now and then, he is modifying them or cloning them.

Jonathan particularly liked this class; not because the notes were short and easy to understand but because it was easy to pass notes in class as the professor had his back turned to them nearly the entire class and he was very strict on the no speaking during class policy so it always felt like he was alone as no one dared to make a sound, in fear of detention.

The bell rang at last, half an hour past two; the last period. Edgar ended the day by giving them a few pages to read in their books, knowing most will not even remember the pages as soon as they walk out the door. Jonathan was more then happy to get out of the class and head over to his friend’s house.

He had made a mistake today, a grave mistake. He was not yet used to his new form and his energy exhausted fast, forcing him to sleep every night. He had strayed too far from his hiding spot like usual and was forced to once again sleep in his house.

However, this time, it was much worse. Today was Tuesday, the only day his parents didn’t work and he had not fed since Saturday. He had heard his mother come up the stairs quite a few times but luckily, she never opened his closet. He had closed the curtains but he couldn’t take any risks of exposing himself.

The house became quiet at three in the afternoon. He had kept a digital clock with him in the closet, knowing it would only make time pass slower for him but he had to get out as soon as the sun would set.

The quiet was interrupted by a knocking on his front door. He heard voices but they were unclear as he was on the second floor. Whoever it was seemed to leave in a matter of seconds, he always wondered if it was Jonathan. He was like a brother to him, a true friend. But everything had changed now and he couldn’t speak with him, much less let him see what he had become.

He was alone, and he shall be alone forever now. He was reborn into the night and forever shall he be in darkness. He felt it, a certain change in his mind. He didn’t know if it was the virus or just his personal evolution but he felt his humanity dissipate and his heart harden.

He understood from the beginning that he was no longer himself and that many things will change but what he was more interested in was his physiological changes. When he regained consciousness last Tuesday, the first thing he noticed about himself was the coldness of his skin. It had been smoothed down, the tan coloring paled and the cold. Not an icy cold but a cool touch, inhibited for a human, as if he was trapped outside in the rain.

He had found himself in the back of an alley, which he was unfamiliar with and the surrounding area. He then suddenly realized, he couldn’t remember what had befallen on him last night and to as how he got there. As he exited the alleyway, frightened and confused, he noticed himself a lot lighter and stronger, as if he had been exercising vigorously of late. He passed a reflective display window of an old clothing boutique; he looked at himself and saw he was a car. Or perhaps he saw the red sedan which was driving behind him. This is what frightened him the most, he had no reflection. He first thought he was just at a bad angle or perhaps he was dizzy but after a few waves of the arm in front of the glass, he started to swallow the truth.

‘Its okay’ was what he repeated to himself over and over. There were a few possibilities on what may be happening. One, he could be under a drug effect or still dizzy from whatever happened to him early in the night. Two, he had been hit on the head and lost some of his sanity or, three, he might be simply dreaming. The latter being the most favorable, he decided to put his faith into an early awakening.

As he marched down the night streets, passing colorful cars and loud teenagers, he noticed something about himself again. He felt, almost, omnipresent. He could hear and see things that weren’t in earshot or eyesight. He felt as if he was a peering into a crystal ball, knowing what was going on around him and being right all the time. However, it was more like his mind was arranging feelings into shadowy pictures in his head, warning him of his surroundings. That is when he got scared.

He bolted from the sidewalk and into the streets. The first car honked as it nearly ran him over and the boy managed to jump unto the hood of the next car, safely and with ease. His eyes sharpened, filled with panic. He then jumped down, ran in the middle of the street, dodging and jumping cars as he pleased, not knowing of what he was doing. He was in a surreal sense of panic, how he was doing all of this, he did not know until he remembered something he hadn’t done since he regained consciousness; he hadn’t taken a breath yet. In his mad rampage across the street, he stopped without showing any warning and took a deep breath. He let it go. He wasn’t breathing hard or fast and his lungs weren’t telling him to breathe in once more. He didn’t need to. That’s when he heard a car screech behind him. He turned around instinctively, placing his hand in front of himself, to stop the impact. If the car’s breaks hadn’t been pressed, the impact of the hit might have pushed him down a little but he managed to maintain complete balance, as if stopping nothing more then a ball. He saw the car’s driver looking frantic and terrified before he bolted off once more but this time, he needed to hide.

He ran for quite a while, hearing sirens wail behind him and some in front. Someone had phoned the police, thinking there was a madman on the loose in the starry night. At least he hadn’t killed anybody. Killed... That word resonated in his head, making him remember the many horror movies he had seen throughout his short life. He wanted something from the word but not the act itself or to do an actual killing, more of a certain hunger towards it. He contemplated this thought during his dash away from the city until he felt a certain tingle in his mind; uneasiness to the world around him. He felt frightened. Luckily for him, his ran had led him towards Old Uptown.

It used to be quite a luxurious area called SpringBell Heights, with many fashion boutiques and large houses until around 1980, when the Penguin Co. arrived and installed its headquarters south of downtown. Since then, the city of Brant had become more industrialized and wealthy, Making way for new rich families to appear and attracted many small business’ in the area, making the old uptown much less favorable to live in as no one was heading that direction no more.

Penguin Co. is a science facility that researches human behavior, human mentality and physique. Why they research it has never been stated out officially, however, the company is funded by a large mall they had erected a block away from the headquarters. They charged much less then what the uptown stores did, making it the new hotspot for shopping, and at the same time, taking the profits the store into the research facility. No one ever asked questions about what exactly they do with the research as everyone simply guesses drug testing and drug making.

As he entered the perimeters of Old Uptown, his fear grew stronger and harder to keep inside. His mind was yelling at him to hide from the world and go to sleep but he didn’t understand why but he quickly succumbed to his fear and ran towards one of the abandoned houses. Surprisingly enough, the door handle twisted in his hand and he entered without any effort but he far too confused and frightened to think of it.

As he stepped into the house, he felt himself relaxed and the raging fear in his head subdue and fall into silence. As he regained his sanity, he noticed the house seemed to be mildly habited. The boards blocking the windows from any light or curious eye were there since at least a year but he noticed fresh markings on the dusty fridge’s handle and the tables. Someone must have been here only moments ago or perhaps they were still here.

The house was still in good condition, it needed only but a new coat of paint, an exterminator and some cleaning. He was surprised as to why the previous owners haven’t sold the house before moving out. As he moved from room to room, carefully observing the details in hope of finding out that there was no one here, he started feeling a small sense of anxiety. Whatever frightened him before had arrived or happened. He mindlessly looked at his watch and noticed it was nearing six in the morning. The sun had come up. Was that what had frightened him so much, as to the point of rage? He narrowed his eyes, as he felt a small movement behind him.

Damon’s eyes shot open, he had fallen asleep in his closet.

He quickly looked at his digital clocked which read nine-forty two. The sun had set, he was free once more. He had been lucky today; his mother hadn’t come into his room and found him out. He had survived another day and was free to roam the night once more. He prayed he truly did learn his lesson this time and would not be forced to put himself in such an uncomfortable and dangerous position again.