Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Logue opened her eyes, waking up from her sleep. Her sight dazzled briefly as the surroundings were bright in the daylight, initially struggled to capture the sight of her surroundings, but the view became clearer as her eyesight stabilized. She was on a hospital bed, dressed in a patient wear, hooked up to an IV, and monitored by a beeping machine wired to her index finger for vitals, enough for her to pay no attention to the rest of health care equipment sets placed unused at the corner of the room.

            Her eyes spotted a medical card the size of an A4 paper placed on the vital machine, and her name written on it ‘LOGUE ARES’, along with several details which she did not bother to look at.

            Ambient was very comforting, clean air with the breeze blowing gently into the room, green of leaves from a tree together with the blue color of clear sky and white from groups of clouds drifting slowly as her sight laid outside of the windows opened beside her bed. It was relaxing, resting on a comfortable bed, at a degree drifting her away from her worries and fear from before everything blacked out. Fears and worries? Somehow she just failed to recall the cause. Her memory was somewhat blurry. It felt as if she had slept for a rather lengthy duration, and attempting to recall for memory was exhausting.

She broke into a grimace as she tried to sit up. There are several spots of pain throughout the surface of her body. Ouch, ouch, ouch… she whispered, finally sitting up by slowly adjusting the strength usage as her body was also still tingly from lying for too long.

            A faint talking voice of a lady approached from behind the non-transparent closed glass door. It was getting more audible following the figure behind the glass became more prominent as it’s approached, revealing a lady-in-white's figure with brunette hair along with it.

            "Aaand..." the door creaked open as the said lady-in-white slowly poked her face into the room followed by her full appearance. A lady in her early thirty, tall, reddish-white skin, brunette shoulder-length flowing down her shoulders, and the radiant of her appearance gleamed brightly as though reflecting the sunshine itself, might ‘metaphorically’ able to blind a person who looked at her directly. "There she is. Bright and shine", she said gleefully upon setting her sight on the girl. Her light blue eyes looked directly at Logue, its charm felt as though was piercing into one’s very soul to melt it.

            Following behind her was a tall male in medical coat with a stethoscope hung on his neck, by head-to-toe appearance, a doctor, about the same age as the lady. Some of his hair were grayish in contrast of his age, his visage were as young as and as good looking as a man in his 20's, and his tall figure matched his broad shoulders, showing a form of physical fitness of a man in his age.

            He approached the bed and sat right next to Logue, slowly removing the wired vital reader and begun to read it directly and through stethoscope. "Breath in slowly, darling", he said in a gentle voice with a warm smiling face, and Logue reflexively did just that, then gently pulled down her cheeks for her lower eyelids' color. "Well, you seem to be in a good shape", he continued, putting away his stethoscope. "I'm guessing you have dozens to question for, but for now, let's get you cleaned, shall we? You've been sleeping for quite some time now", he said with such a gentle face that went fairly with his carved smile and soothing voice, partly relieving Logue from the swelling uneasiness in Logue's mind that yet to reveal itself.

Destan left the room for the two ladies right after asking Logue to get cleaned, and left everything for Lillian to handle womanly matters.

            Lillian, the lady, took the opportunity to introduce herself right after her husband left the room; her full name, Lillian McNall, and the doctor was her husband, Destan McNall, and they were now at their private home-clinic. She then helped Logue getting up from the bed, helped the girl to slowly stand beside it, asked if she girl felt any irritating pain, and whether if she had any difficulty in moving without aid.

            Logue answered simply about the tingly spots of pain on her body she felt earlier, with a surprisingly rough voice from being in bed for so long, and moved about slowly, answering Lillian's second question by just bodily movements as well as an indication to herself the possession of a still-functioning healthy body.

            Satisfied, Lillian stated that it was normal to feel slightly sluggish for someone that had been sleeping for days. She initially asked if Logue was fit enough to take a bath on her own, or if the girl preferred to be cleaned by wiping.

            She handed over a towel when Logue responded that she preferred a lovely bath, and showed the girl the bathroom built just right next to the room where they were, while she kept herself busy preparing a set of bandage dressings and medicines together with a set of comfortable patient-friendly casual clothes for the girl to wear afterward, a light green knee-length blouse with a pair of pants.

Logue sat there on the edge of the bed, loosen up her mind while Lillian attended to her dried wounds and bruises with a colorless medicinal cream and had her torso partly wrapped in bandages. The most prominent wound left was the one being on her right foot, a long stitches of wound, made her think that it must be the effect from some kind of painkiller drug given to her during her sleep, for her to even be able to move in that condition, although barely. She caught a glimpse of memory of her right foot's incident; her shoe was torn during the event, during a gruesome moment before passing out. She spaced out most of the time, simply hoping that whatever memory that was coming back to her was just a bad dream. She had naught to say during her time alone together with Lillian. Just sat still and silently grimaced from the pain every time Lillian rubbed medicinal cream on a spot of wound, especially those on the spots which she had not noticed earlier, until she felt the swelling awkwardness inside her, then took the initiative to start a conversation by inquiring for her current whereabouts.

            Lillian replied with a smile, but nothing was mentioned about their exact location, except she was being taken care of at a private home-clinic. She then reached for the girl's hair, had it combed neatly and pony-tailed, got Logue's face powdered, magnifying the lovability of a teenage maiden she was.

            For a moment when Lillian was not looking, there were trickles of tear flowing down Logue's cheek from both her eyes. It was her physical memory in response to Lillian's warm hospitality. A physical reflex that responded to a moment that she missed so much in the depth of her heart, a mother's love, but she did not realize it yet, wiped them dry with both her palms and had her face powdered once more by herself.

            Lillian carried on talking about the night Logue was carried to their home-clinic by a man named Ash, how Ash buzzed their doorbell late at night carrying the girl unconscious in his arms with bruises and traces of physical trauma, not to mention both of them were covered in stains from dried filth and its wafting stench. Both Destan and Lillian gave them immediate cleaning up and treatment, although Ash refused any treatment for himself at first, insisting treatment priority for Logue before him on top of denying the fact; he too had several traces of injuries all over his body, one being at the jaw area from some strong physical impact, until Destan scolded him: "I know a patient when I see one, Ash! Now let me treat you. It will be quick, while Lillian look after the girl."

            Logue's mind was at ease, but still wonder what exactly took place in her temporary absence of memory, and her thought wondered also if it was possible to meet and thank this 'Ash' guy properly, if the man-in-question was even still here.

            She attempted, but somehow fail to recall any image in regard of the said man, except for a strange yet gruesome figure kept on appearing inside. The image was of a man with his visage hidden behind the curtain of shadow under a huge hood, basked in the twilight.

            Somehow, she began to feel the fear to even try to remember.

            Cleaned, bandaged, and dressed more casually, Logue climbed down the stairs from the second floor, accompanied by Lillian, connecting them directly to the living room downstairs. From the appearance, and a set of stairs to go to upper floor, it was at least a three-storey house with some of its areas renovated into a private clinic, including that one room she was in at the second floor. During her time upstairs, she noticed several more rooms at the same floor with inside them complete sets of medical equipments, but the clinic was empty, except for herself being the only one there for medical attention.

            Even climbing down the stairs was a struggle with her physical condition.

            It was quiet, the only sounds heard were the rotating ceiling fan in the living room below, and occasional newspaper page turns by Destan.

            "Look who's the little angle!" said Lillian, holding Logue from behind by the shoulder, gleefully showing off the now cleaned girl to her husband who was sitting on one of the couches in the living room, waiting for them. In the middle of the couches' positions was a knee-height table, on top of which a medium size packed backpack for a person along with several seemingly sensitive documents for traveling including passport, readied for one's departure anytime soon.

            Destan immediately folded the newspaper, putting it away to pay his wife the attention and responded to them with a tender smile. He got up, walked quickly to the kitchen and returned back with a tray of food.

            "Well now, I suppose you would like to have something for lunch?" said Destan as he stood, inviting them to the table at the other side of the living room. "I believe though you were hooked to multi-nutrients throughout your sleep, it is still normal for a human stomach to famish for real food, no? However, I was told to hurry and this is the best I could provide for you thus far."

            Indeed it was true. Logue was not hungry, but she could sense the crave to munch some food. She nodded lightly and quickly, not able to generate what to say at the moment, but the doctor seemed to be very understanding and gave out a light giggle in respond while putting the tray on the table, putting away the backpack and documents, and Lillian walked her slowly to sit on a couch.

            She found the meal was rather droolable. Fish chips smeared with mushroom sauce, salad, and a glass of yogurt drink, with a set of spoon, fork, and knife. Everything was in small portion, not too little, not too much, enough for a single person's appetite. But Logue could not grasp the idea of eating while the other two were only looking at her. "You are not joining me?" Logue asked, trying to break her curiosity.

            "Oh, we would've loved to, honey. But don't mind us. It doesn't look like it, but this is a clinic. you're our priority." Lillian answered. "Besides, we have had our lunch just before you woke up.”

            Logue hesitated at first, but her current appetite hankered for proper meal. She grabbed the fork and knife, sliced off the fish chip and put it in her mouth. Goodness! This is delicious! She stuffed her face with the foods and drink combined, at a point forgotten the pair were watching her, and snapped off her lust, slowing down her consumption. "Pardon me. I wonder what has gotten over me."

            "It's normal", Destan responded with a chuckle. "We've treated several patients that were in a knocked-out state before. We deliberately hooked them up to multi-nutrition that kept them healthy, just like you, but the supplement also improves their digestive systems, making them to crave for food after waking up, to avoid them from depending solely on supplements."

            Logue nodded, understood. It was embarrassing eating like this, she had never eaten anything in such manner in her entire life.

"I hope you enjoy your meal."

            All three of them turned, facing the hallway that leaded to the adjacent room, the hearth room. Ash stood there, staring.

            "Ash? You are early", said Lillian, turning to face her husband with a questioning tone intended for him, staring for an answer.

            "He’s just arrived", said Destan, replying his wife.

            "I'm actually rather late", Ash replied, walking towards them. "If you may?" He said, changing his gaze to the couple and back to Logue again.

            Both the couple nodded lightly, and walked away from Logue, leaving her a question to herself: ‘what is going on?’ from the shift of atmosphere, alone with Ash as the man sat down on a couch adjacent to her.

            "You guys may stay and listen. If you want", Ash said, not looking at them nor if he was even waiting for an answer.

            "I'll go make some coffee", whispered Lillian into her husband's ear, but Destan gently pulled her in the arm before she could even budge and whispered back hers: "no, no. He insisted for us not to. This will be brief", then led her to the corner of the room to sit on a couple of office chairs to observe.

            With Ash sat near her, Logue could not stop to wonder if this is the 'Ash' guy that saved her and carried her here. They called him 'Ash'. This is the 'Ash' guy? She wondered. There was a single painful throb struck her in the head upon looking at him directly, like an intuitive reflex in the mind. Her head felt heavy before she even realize it, and reflexively supported herself in the forehead with her hand.

            Ash remained silent for a little while, staring at the confused girl. He took a quick-and-silence deep breath and then: “I’m sorry, I thought it’d be best to have waited for you to finish, but we are running out of time, You and I."

            “I beg your pardon?” Logue responded, dizzied from the throbbing.

            Ash took out a partially burnt light-blue document– or what is seemed like what was left of it–  out of his shirt pocket and put it in front of her on the table.

            Logue stared at it for a few second, it seemed rather familiar. It was a piece of a document-card, or at least seemed like what remained of it. One side of the edge was burnt, the other side was torn, the whole piece was covered with spots of dirt or whatever kind of indescribable colors of dried filth all over it, and a trace of it being ripped off from its remaining piece, believed to be an originally bigger piece than this. Another throb hit her in the head, somehow her mind was recalling something, showing her an image in her mind. It was the moment when she wrote her name into a similar-looking document. She bent forward, closer to it, inspecting it out of curiosity if it was the same document projected in her mind. To her surprise, her name was written on it just like the flashback playing in her head.

“It’s something I picked up at 'Sunny Star'”, Ash said, aiding her to remember.

            Logue gasped, her heart skipped a bit, her face turned pale as her mind was gushed with various of images from the moments before waking up here in the private clinic. For a moment, the reasons were unknown, but it slowly emerged, and the images were almost as visible as the reality. It hurt her in the mind and emotionally. The pain was almost physically real, the pressure from sudden stream of recalling memories suffocated her, and her head throbbed and felt as if it was going to explode. ‘Sunny Star’, the name of the orphanage. She remembered that she was admitted there not too long prior to it being attacked by a group of soldiers, the siege. She remembered herself being held captive along with the others from the orphanage mansion together with some other strangers seized from who-knows-where, and lastly the image of the hooded warrior basked in twilight. She unconsciously broke into tears, for a moment wondered herself 'why', reflexively covering her mouth, a habit she had not to be heard while crying. Her mind suddenly starting to recall and picture a lot of death, and kept on generating gory images and gruesome fears of death. “Oh no…”

From then Logue remembered; a man in a cowl with a broadsword, plunged himself in the middle of a squad of soldiers, painted the floor red with blood of the slashed and the stabbed, before coming for her with such speed not her eyes may capture. During the twilight, she was on the verge of giving up hope to live, witnessing the death of the innocents had buried her soul into the abyssal void moments of deathly fear. She remembered the deafening sounds of gunshots, how bullets were shot to the hooded warrior, seemingly hurt him greatly but was not sufficient in deadly form, how he emerged victorious against a combatant officer whom wielded nothing but a pair brass knuckle, came dashing right to her with the veins of Preservery art emerged with dimly glow upon his physique, and smashed her captivator in the face before blacking out.

            The next thing happened was a pair of hands embracing hers. Logue snapped out of the flashbacks by the warmth of comfort. At first she saw a cowled figure in a twilight background, hallucinating out of severe emotion despair, but then Ash's current figure came through her vision, melting her glacial cold wall of overwhelming fear.

            Logue felt her hearing was failing from the stress. She felt as if her surroundings were dead silence except for Ash's voice that echoed in her mind as he spoke, and as if there were only two of them conversing in a void.

            "I know I'm in no place to make such a request as this..." Ash said slowly, but she could hear it as clearly as a whisper into her ears, dissolving the stone wall of dread nestling deep within the girl's mind, and his hands held to hers tightly. "...but I need you to try and relax. Focus. Try to remember the last moments at Wharf Newland before I grabbed you."

            Logue's hands reflexively squeezed Ash's in return. Her breathing slowly stabilized during a moment of pause, and her mind went blank from trying to comprehend the warmth of comfort in her hands. But then, somehow it felt rather familiar in a negative way. Along with comfort, rose dismissive reflexes and thoughts.

            Her vision spun, sending her eyes blinking several times to brush it off. It was the stress. Beads of sweat dripped down her temples and trickled down her cheeks.

            All the blinking had done was just tossing her vision into the depth void of tricks. She was in a pitch void of nothingness except for a dark silhouette of a man in a black three-piece suit with his visage hidden behind the shadows, holding her in the hands, replacing Ash in the image.

            It was a tall man with a broad chest and shoulders. His leather-gloved hands held tightly to Logue's, black in color, and she felt dampness upon the surfaces of the leather gloves. She initially failed to tell what it was until she slowly pulled her hands aback, only to bear witness to trails of watery thick red on the surfaces of her hands. Blood! Panicked, she wanted to run, but her body was not moving from the trauma. She looked up to where the man was before, but he was now a few meters away from her, standing on a heap of bleeding dead bodies, and some of the them had their faces facing her. She immediately recognized a few amongst them, familiar faces; her neighbours, her friends, her acquaintances, her parents!

            The man's visage was hidden still, but a wide sinister ear-to-ear grin was carved, being the only part fully visible behind the shadow.

            Logue recognized it, the moment when it all happened, the massacre, the murder... the one 'at fault'... "Joan Donn!"