Storyteller's Universe // Violent Visions
Square One
I massage the sore spot on my head. I had this vision yesterday, that’s quite a step up from seeing just a moment ahead. I’m improving!
I sit under the giant beech on a hill nearby Haven, watching Raphael first send people back to… I suppose the “real world” is a good way to describe it.
He handles it exactly the same way Sebastian did, including even the same hello and goodbye ritual.
I feel my stomach drop when Raphael announces that it was everyone already. I immediately get up and walk up to him, he looks worried when he sees me approach.
Raphael:
“Waiting for Aubrey?”
I nod.
Raphael:
“They are a busy critter, something might’ve held them up back in Paris. Have patience, I’m sure they’ll be here next week.”
Raphael is right but I can’t help but worry.
I am the last to walk up to Raphael, I grab his hand.
Raphael:
“Shae?”
Shae:
“It’s been a month, I need to know what happened to Aubrey.”
Raphael:
“Next transfers are in a week, where will you sleep until then?”
Shae:
“I don’t know. I hope Haji will help.”
Raphael grabs my hand more firmly and pulls me into a hug.
Raphael:
“Sebastian made a promise to keep you safe. You are the one ending that promise, do you understand?”
Shae:
“I know.”
Raphael ends the hug without letting go of my hand.
Raphael:
“Be safe, child. You will always be welcome back. Goodbye.”
I suddenly find myself in an underground garage, holding Sebastian’s hand. We’re surrounded by people who are next to go into the Haven.
Sebastian:
“...Shae?!”
Haji:
// bad news // digital footprint wiped // no cctvs // no tracking // definitely anomalous //
I let my head fall into my hands, I curl up on the sidewalk.
I look at the business card, then at the phone booth in the Paris Métro. Do people still use these things?
I walk up to it, the display shows something about a prepaid card I need to insert in, but the contact instructions on the business card specifically say to ignore everything.
I pick up the handset off the rack, wedge it between my cheek and shoulder so I can listen in — oh, it’s saying something in French, I don’t understand. I type in the unusually long phone number onto the keypad.
With a weird buzz and a whirr, the call connects instantly.
Operator:
“You have reached the Contractors, would you like to place a contract or do you have other business with us?”
I swallow hard.
Shae:
“...I would like to talk with Agent Sybil.”