Chapter 25: House Of Balloons.

  “If it hurts to breathe… open a window.”

  August 29th, 1991.

  The clock read 10 AM.

  Link arose with tiredness at whom could be at the door.

  His face met with Garvin and two other people at the door.

  Instinctively screaming in fear at seeing the two men he recognized.

  Stumbling to the floor and backing away as they entered slowly.

  One he remembered.

  DB.

  The boy whose parents were killed by Link II.

  Now 15 years old standing above him like a bear above the fish in the sea.

  Dave.

  He saw the name tag on his shirt.

  The one that Link II threw towards the roof and into certain death in that police station.

  Standing menacingly like a predator to a rabbit.

  As Garvin slapped the back of their heads, saying.

  “Jesus fucking christ, don't scare Link like that. You're gonna make him have a panic attack.

  Introduce yourselves properly.”

  From then, both boys took a breather, speaking to Link II.

  Humbled by their father.

  “Hey, Link. Do you remember me?

  DB.

  It's the kid you took his bastard parents away from.

  Still standing strong… or however they say it.”

  Next became Dave when he spoke.

  “Hello, Link Duckworth The Second.

  You remember me, that fake police chief who just needed a reliable job from but then you ruined it by-”

  Before again slapped in the back of the head by Garvin as he spoke.

  “Hey dumbass! Don't forget your talking to an eight year old about your gang problems.

  Not his fucking fault that you got busted cause you wanted money.”

  Suddenly, the trio got into an argument.

  Fighting over who was in the right and wrong.

  While Link II curled into himself, trying to block out the yelling argument that stood in front of him.

  Wings coming out like beavers from water.

  Covering him like a paranoid bat.

  Shivering in the cold of anger.

  After a few moments, a song played in the air.

  Humming as if death breathed onto him.

  The song Loft Music by The Weeknd played in the air.

  Playing around the 3 minute mark.

  The vocalising filled the house with horror.

  Echoes filled the home.

  Distorted synths intertwined the vocals.

  Each moment of the song felt like a partner found out about being cheated on.

  The lyric “Whatchu thinking about?” Felt like a man watching every moment of betrayal.

  The trio stopped, finally hearing the tragedy.

  Garvin sensed Link II's panic.

  His eyes sharpened at Link II's covered position in the small corner.

  The corner between the kitchen and the hallway.

  Rushing towards him, moving away the wings and seeing his crying form.

  His mouth in a smile.

  Ears vibrating like he felt danger.

  Nose bleeding from exhaustion.

  All of it looked inhumane.

  As Garvin yelled over the music to Link II.

  “Kid! Focus on where you are at!

  Don't let the music drown you!

  Tell me five things that you see besides yourself!”

  Then, Link II screamed louder than a bat's screech.

  Windows broke.

  Doors and walls clamped together towards him.

  It felt like the universe bent a little over his scream.

  Thereafter, the trio was pinned to the wall, walls sharpened like rocks.

  Crushingly painful to them.

  Rushing up, staring them all dead in the eyes.

  Anger spoke through his words, saying in his gaze.

  “SHUT THE FUCK UP!

  SHUT THE FUCK UP!

  SHUT THE FUCK UP!

  I'm tired of hearing you all bitch around like a children!"

  Taking a sigh and calming himself as he spoke.

  Keeping his grip tight on them.

  “I’m sorry for throwing you through the roof, Dave.

  But don't you dare blame me for something that was your fault.

  I only exist to live…

  You make the choices, not me.

  Now, can you all please shut your bitch ass mouths for one second?

  I just want… quiet after waking up.

  That's all I ask.”

  His gaze filtered down soon after.

  Letting his arms down as they fell to the floor with a loud thud.

  Wiping off the blood from his nose and walking away to the kitchen.

  Setting up something for them.

  While the trio froze for a few moments before sitting onto the couch.

  Waiting in confusion.

  As DB asked Garvin.

  “Did… did you know he could do that?”

  Then Garvin replied.

  “... no. Hell no. I didn't even know why the music played anyways.

  Now I see why he had it on in the first place.”

  Within seconds later, they had plates in their laps.

  Smiling faces made with eggs and bacon.

  During this, Link II stepped outside.

  Staring at that same corner of his backyard which held the gravestones.

  Remembering their tear ridden faces.

  The horror in their eyes.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  The childlike whimpers he could hear from them as they died.

  Eventually crying from the grief.

  Hating the empathy he felt towards the damned.

  Hating the fact he almost could've killed the trio if he so pleased.

  Not knowing why he felt sad for a human life.

  Curling into himself, covering himself with his wings.

  Delving deeper into the rabbit hole of grief.

  Reminiscing on every person he killed.

  Each moment he sat, it felt as if he killed another man.

  Not an innocent man, but just a man.

  Suddenly, Garvin sat by him, saying.

  “They're sorry. Both of them.

  They just didn't want to admit weakness to somebody like you.

  DB and Dave had a rough childhood before this.

  Where they were taught to not cry or let themselves be free.

  Only caged in the abuse of tough love and fake happiness.”

  Soon asking after his breath.

  “Link…? What the fuck did you do?

  How did you do it anyways?

  You like… crumpled up walls into sharpened rocks.”

  Not speaking to Garvin, hiding away from any response that he felt deserving of.

  Saying to Garvin.

  “I… I did it with my mind, the effort was hard for me…”

  Hearing his voice, Garvin let it go.

  Not wanting to know the potential grossness of an alien.

  Then Garvin pulled out some weed and what looked like blackened bacon.

  Glancing to Link II and seeing his nervousness, saying.

  “Kid, it's alright. It's medical marijuana.

  It's for my ADD.

  If you want, I can move further so you don't smell it, it won't affect you anyways by the second hand smoke.”

  Link II nodded without haste, turning away and looking at the floor below him.

  While Garvin smoked, the air filled with the same drug filled smell from before.

  With a hint of normality as Garvin spoke.

  “I have regrets, Link.

  Lots of them.

  I didn't want to raise Dave, I admit.

  But I couldn't just abandon him to the gangsters in the streets.

  It was an accident that he was born in the first place.

  So, I take that with me to the grave where I stay.”

  Taking a sigh, then coughing from the smoke.

  Abruptly, Link II spoke.

  “Garvin… I hated killing.

  I felt guilty for the blood of thousands on my hands.

  But after living in hell for so long, I got used to seeing blood around me.

  Even something like a Pharynx in my hand… It felt normal.”

  His voice cracked by the end, sobbing into his arms.

  His whimpering and muffled cries sounded like an abused puppy.

  Yet Garvin stood by his side, calmed by the marijuana, confidently speaking to Link II.

  “Yeah… Yeah. Nobody wants to kill a man kid.

  Even if they do to protect, everybody carries the grief.

  I've learned from the best that even if you are a hero, you will never please anybody that way.

  I learned that from helping my parents.

  Barely helped for shit.

  But… you wanna know one positive part about everything?”

  Link II turned, his right ear eager to hear what was the positive.

  “I loved every moment of pain.

  Even if it hurts.

  Because it reminded me of what life really is.

  Betrayal and love.

  Pain and healing.

  Happy and sad.

  Life is gonna be hard for you unless you take action and control fate.

  Otherwise you're gonna stay depressed and lose yourself in wrongful ideals.”

  Garvin took another sigh, looking away from the emotional confidence he took.

  Silence filling the smoke filled air.

  Just then, Link II spoke.

  “Death In French Terms.

  You know what that means Garvin?”

  Garvin didn't turn, listening without indication.

  But Link II continued anyway.

  “To me, that sentence is everything.

  It means that grief is universal, not bound by a language, an idea, or anything.

  Just that everybody has some form of brokenness in their life whether they'd admit it or not.

  Even the most positive lives have a negative.”

  As Link II took another breath, saying.

  “It seems silly to make up a name like that huh?

  Even without a unique meaning, it has this… elegant feeling to it.

  Like you could find beauty in something tragic like sadness or death.”

  They sat for what felt like hours, while the two boys waiting inside felt more guilt from the silence.

  Everybody felt more guilt from the awkward silence rather than the silence of their own home.

  Soon after, they headed to the car.

  Driving towards a place of hell.

  The radio read 12:00 PM.

  Garvin drove the three boys towards the arcade.

  The air filled with noise of cars and humans combined.

  Dave and DB talked and brawled like regular siblings…

  Link II sat in fear, terrified of sitting in the passenger seat.

  His mind fogged by memories.

  Remembering that one day in the snow.

  The pain in his leg.

  The blood on his body.

  The bone sticking out like a sore thumb.

  Keeping his stoic form hidden with music playing in his mind.

  Loving the track of The Morning by The Weeknd.

  Braggadocio lyrics about money, bitches, and drugs sounded like the motive.

  Synths heavy with electric guitar waves.

  All having the colors of a rainbow but with the filter of black and white.

  Knowing how explicit the words were, but grounded him in the fact of reality.

  Nothing is truly innocent.

  They arrived at the arcade around 12:05.

  Link II couldn't help himself and stare at the uniqueness of the arcade.

  The smiling families.

  The kids cheering around.

  It all felt like a dream given life.

  Letting go of his stoic expression once out of the car, his childlike innocence coming out like a kitten.

  Running around, hands shaking in freedom.

  His mind a wheel of dopamine.

  Entering the arcade, all he could see were the vibrant colors of its design.

  The carpet being of 80s colors mixed with 90s fashion.

  People wearing baggy pants or jeans alongside small pouches that to Link II, looked out of place but fit in the weirdness.

  Peering into everything like a blaze.

  While Garvin and the two brothers followed behind.

  Glancing at the people around them suspicious of those looking at the group with glares.

  Dave pulled out 29 bucks, enough for the boys to play around, a punishment set by Garvin.

  The two of them got 90 coins from the purchase.

  While DB kept them in a bag so they didn't have to pay again.

  While Link II asked Garvin with a tug at his arm.

  “Hey Garvin? W-where did all those coins come from at such a low price?

  D-Do i need to pay for them? Or… how do arcades work anyways?”

  Garvin spoke to him, saying.

  “Kid, don't worry about anything, okay?

  Everything we have I put it onto Dave.

  Even if we do run out of money, I got some too.

  So don't ever think you need to pay for happiness, now go with DB.

  Have fun in this place, Link.”

  As DB went over to the street fighter arcade cabinet, playing against another person and winning.

  Doing crazy combos, even committing hadoukens using combo presses on the buttons he played on.

  Then Link II decided to join in, asking shyly with normality, ”Hey… DB? Can I join?”

  DB nodded at him.

  Not minding somebody to play with despite previous circumstances.

  He sat down, putting his hands on the buttons.

  While DB explained what the controls of the game were, additionally how to combo, how to pressure, etc.

  Yet began the first round, arriving on a stage that was a trainyard.

  DB rushed at Link II, providing him an example of pressure.

  Despite this, he stayed calm, taking note of how pressure worked and how to counteract DB's attack.

  They played for what felt like hours.

  Around an hour or two later, at 1-2 PM.

  Link II glanced at Dave behind them, who wasn't there anymore.

  He got up and away, saying to DB.

  “I'll be right back, I just gotta use the restroom.”

  Looking around at the other parts of the arcade.

  As he walked around the arcade, he saw people playing the arcade machines.

  But also a frequent change in style, he saw mostly men with wife beaters on, alongside noticing at the corner of their pockets…

  Pistols.

  Revolvers.

  Anything small that could fit into their pockets as a weapon.

  Suddenly, he tripped on a faulty carpet, stumbling into the back of the arcade.

  Which housed a bunch of stuff that Link II didn't understand.

  Lots of different-looking powders, mostly white looking in bags.

  Alongside bags of random colored crystals, seeming to have a note that read “DO NOT SELL, IMPURE MIXTURE”

  Other cleaning materials and bath salts appeared also, sitting on more boxes of what he assumed as drugs.

  Eventually, he heard something from a room in the back.

  Assuming it was a discussion about someone or something.

  So Link II began to think.

  “How could I get into the room and see what's going on without being seen?”

  Leading to him using a new ability mixed with another.

  A modified version of intangibility, rather than immediately falling to the earth's core.

  He made himself partially tangible only in regular gravity.

  Stopping himself from immediately falling to the earth's core.

  As he peaked inside, he found the answer.

  Dave was in the room with other gangsters.

  Discussing about distributing drugs around town, talking about how to make each type of drug.

  The room had wooden walls, decor hanging from them like signed shirts or a picture of an Asian with bullet holes in it.

  “Ok, so we plan to target those crip fuckers first.

  They found our previous location.

  Next, we take out those Japanese assholes last, they are too peaky and annoying during our jobs.

  Fo’ sho.”

  They said in union, finished with their discussion.

  Yet as he watched with distraught at Dave participating in the same acts that got others killed.

  His hands clenched into fists from anger, his eyes slowly flashing blue.

  Different from the usual green and purple.

  But… something was wrong with him.

  It felt as if hatred was coursing through his DNA.

  Feeling a migraine in his head.

  Abruptly, blinding lights appeared, stunning him.

  The pain throbbing throughout his form.

  Clutching it and curling into himself.

  Falling from his standing form onto the hard concrete floor.

  The fall less painful compared to the throbbing.

  Constant even throughout the fall.

  His nose bled from the pain of a metaphysical form being contacted by touch from something.

  Flickering between reality and fantasy.

  Screams drowned out by the blood from his mouth.

  Beginning to laugh for no reason, smiling to his own demise as the last emotion he made.

  A grin with blood, comparable to that of a bloody overdose.

  While his eyes gave the opposite emotion, crying to his supposed fate.

  And in his last moments of consciousness, he screamed as loud as he could.

  Jaw wide open, spitting out blood in a scream, almost dislocating it from how wide he had it open.

  Then fainting on the spot with the same grin…

  …

  As he heard these words:

  “Get Up.

  Get the fuck up.

  Your story isn't done here.

  But you've suffered a terrible fate, haven't you?”

  The voice sounded like Duckworth but desperate underneath that authority.

  Spontaneously, Link II arose into the arcade yet again.

  Hearing the faint noise of a question from somebody.

  “Are you okay?”

  Hearing DB's muffled voice through the darkness.

  Reality came back into his view.

  Shapes like his hands and the arcade machine began to fade in.

  He was still playing the Street Fighter arcade machine, the same positions from before on the buttons and the moving stick.

  Glancing at DB, his gaze looking concerned at Link II.

  Not noticing the blood near his nose.

  Seeing the gangsters glaring at them both with DB’s hand on Link II’s left shoulder.

  Knowing that people would believe a rumor, even if it was wrong or mentioned a group hated on by the public.

  DB quickly looked around, deciding to take him outside to talk.

  Wanting a more quiet area than risk chaos emerging.

  As he asked him.

  “Link? Do you wanna talk about something?

  You don’t look well.”

  Immediately, Link II nodded.

  Knowing this area wasn't as safe as before.

  Soon enough, they walked out of the arcade and talked outside of the building.

  The sound of nature in suburbia filling the air.

  Both of them stood around awkwardly, trying to find the words to say about one thing.

  Vulnerability.

  Eventually, Link II spoke, saying.

  “Sorry about the blood, it's something that happens when I use one of my abilities.”

  DB soon responded.

  “What ability did you use that overwhelmed you so much anyways?

  Was it like mind reading or talking to somebody like professor Charles or something?”

  While Link II processed his question, chuckling to himself during his response.

  “No… unfortunately, not like the bald man.

  Mine are… much darker.

  For him, yeah, he had one ability.

  But for me, I have every one.

  Which might seem cool, but then when you have so much trauma behind it or whenever it short circuits…

  It feels like a curse onto your head unless you rest or replace the noise.”