It all made sense now.
The way the boy covered his eyes using the fringes of his hair; the reason why he closed his eyes whenever they were accidentally uncovered; how he always avoided eye contact by looking in their direction but not quite into their eyes…
It all made sense after he finally saw them.
James had always thought that his wife and daughter's eyes were the most beautiful pairs of eyes in the world — an oceanic blue that would make anyone look twice in their direction — but he was proven wrong once he laid his eyes onto his suspect's silver orbs.
If you tried to describe them, you would turn out wrong. If you tried to imagine them, you would only get endlessly frustrated, for a human's mind didn't seem capable enough of handling such an impossible task.
It was how they drew you in, and made you doubt whether they were really fake or not, that made them so… fascinating. Normally, any pair of eyes that had colours that didn't conform to the norm — which were black, brown, blue, green, and maybe even amber — would cause people to immediately come to the conclusion that the person in question was wearing a pair of coloured eye contacts. Most of the cases around the world followed that scenario anyway, so it was quite logical to think that way.
But, for some odd reason, James did not doubt for one second that the argent silver eyes in front of him were real. Maybe it was the way they almost seemed alive, as if they were a being in their own right, that made him come to that conclusion. He honestly wasn't sure. Regardless, however perfect they appeared to be at first, the tiny yet visible 'blotches' of black, that were the pupils, stood in their way of appearing truly magnificent and brilliant.
'A damn shame.' Was James' last thought before Aves turned his gaze away from them, and sat down while adopting the same posture as before — head facing forward, shoulders relaxed.
Glancing to his right, James slowly grabbed the microphone from his obviously shaken partner, whom he had never seen take such a big hit to his ego in the seven years that they had worked together for, judging by how intensely the muscles in his arms were spasming, and measuredly spoke into it, "We can choose to look over the fact that you had a knife in your bag, Aves. But, it still doesn't answer the question: who killed your mother?"
"I was about to get to that part." Aves impassively said. "Whoever killed my mother knew what he/she was doing… A clean slit to the throat without any signs of struggle on their end proves that point. They also used a serrated knife; not something that either of our households — my dorm and parents' house — has, so it was definitely someone we don't know, who did it. Or, at least, someone I don't know."
"Are you trying to say what I think you're trying to say?" James interestedly asked.
"Yes. It wasn't my father who killed my mother either." Aves confirmed.
"You're a smart lad, I'll give you that." James smirked. "We never really suspected you of killing your mother, since a lot of things wouldn't add up when we thought that way. So, your dad has always been our number one suspect, right from the get-go. After all, he hasn't been seen by anyone even before the reported time of death."
"I suggest you remove him as your suspect as well then; it will do you no good if you thought of him as the murderer. My father was the one who was the most excited by the prospect of having a second child in the future; he would never kill my mother." Aves emotionlessly said.
"Debt's a bitch, Aves. Your father may have gotten cold feet over the whole idea of having another money-sucking machine on the way, so he decided to end things then and there. I know a lot of people who might do and have done the same thing." James retorted.
Surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, Aves retaliated almost immediately, "Two reasons would suggest why that wouldn't make sense. I had a look at my family's financial books a few days ago, and as it turns out, our situation, though bad, is actually much better than it was the day I was born. So, if he didn't abandon nor kill my mother back then, why would he do it now? Makes no sense."
He then went on, "Second reason: Even if my father had a sudden change of mind and decided to bale out on the family, he could've done it silently, without alerting anyone about it — the authorities included. So, why would he suddenly decide to kill my mother, alerting the entirety of the federal office and have them chase him down to the ends of the country? My dad isn't entirely stupid, so he would've definitely thought about that before 'killing' my mother… Again, it makes no sense."
"Ergo, my dad isn't the killer." Aves concluded, his face and posture the same as they have been since the beginning, blank and relaxed.
"Alright, I think that concludes our a little conversation here. As I said earlier, though we know that you weren't the person who killed your mother, the knife that was found in your bag might definitely implicate you in some unpleasant ways. Fortunately for you, I am someone who has gone through the loss of my parents, so I will allow you to go back home and prepare your mother's funeral. I'm so kind, aren't I?" James guffawed despite the slightly tense atmosphere.
He then gestured to two of the guards on the side to unlock the interrogation room's door.
While they were doing so, Aves, who still hadn't moved a single inch, suddenly asked, "Detective James. How strong exactly are the people I'm up against?"
The clanging sounds of locks coming undone suddenly stopped, the atmosphere turning slightly eerie as Aves awaited James' reply. A few seconds was all he had to wait as James' voice suddenly left the speakers embedded into the walls, "Being smart is good, kid. But being too smart… that might get you killed. It's best if you stop thinking along those lines and start thinking about your mother's funeral. Leave the investigating to the police, got it?"
A week ago, Ave would've probably meekly replied in affirmation, but today's Aves mercilessly replied, "You are no different from your pal, Morgan. You either stay silent, or answer the question that you were asked. I didn't ask you for advice, detective."
Aves added a little something while he was at it, "Also, drop the fatherly act while you're at it; you're fooling no one with it. I'm a random concerned adult who is asking you a question, I'm not your daughter."
Aves didn't need to turn his head to know that the last part of his sentence made James' heart skip a beat. Not one to disappoint, James spoke, his tone much deeper than before. "How did you know?"
Aves acted ignorant. "Know what? That you guys are dealing with a behemoth of an organisation in one way or the other in this investigation? Easy; you kept on pinning the blame on someone within my family's household despite all the evidence proving otherwise. And, when I tried steering the conversation in the direction of someone else — someone big and important — killing my mother, you would immediately change the subject."
His family expecting a baby should've been the only valuable piece of proof, that his dad wasn't the killer, that they needed, but the police were adamant on pinning the blame on him anyway. Aves would have to be stupid to not realise what they were up to.
"You know what I'm talking about! How did you know I had a daughter?" James asked through the speakers again, his voice sounding much angrier than before.
"Answer the question you were asked first, detective." Aves slowly intoned.
"Fine! You want to know so badly? Here you go. We suspect that it is someone within the company that your dad works for who ordered the kill. We don't know why they did it, but judging by how they killed your mother and probably kidnapped your father, I'd say that he has some pretty valuable information on him that they want to get their hands on, no matter what." James exasperatedly revealed.
A entire minute passed by in silence, with James passively taking in Aves' motionless figure, until suddenly, the latter spoke up. "I think I've got the gist of the situation now."
James didn't even bother questioning him on what he had figured out, and instead trailed off, "So…"
"A man with a son would normally look upon other boys my age, or any age for that matter, with either anticipation or reminiscence. As for why, that's self-explanatory. You had neither of those looks in your eyes, however. You held faint hostility toward me whenever you looked at me. It wasn't the vengeful or hateful type of hostility, it was the protective type more than anything. You have a wedding ring on your left hand, so you're obviously married. Men with your mild temperament tend to have kids early, so it's safe to assume that you had a kid — daughter — in your younger days, and she is around the same age as me, thus explaining why you radiate that protective hostility whenever I'm around. You're obviously worried I might steal your precious thing."
"…"
James' slightly cracked voice followed after a brief lull had hung in the air. "G-get this man out of his cuffs."
The detective had thought that the weird kid had somehow gotten wind of the identities of his family, which he had tried his hardest to keep a secret — just in case an enemy of his decided to target them as a way to get back at him — but it turns out that he was able to deduce all that through… his facial expression?
James didn't know whether to respect this young talent, or to fear him…
Amidst the familiar clanging of locks on steel, James lightly said, "Y'know, kid. Your brain is practically tailor made for being a detective. Who knows, you might carry on the mantle once the old fogeys like me retire, haha."
Aves opted to stay silent in regards to the remark, not that James minded anymore. The more he interacted with the weird but fascinating brat, the more he came to like him — his idiosyncrasies and all of that aside, of course.
"Oh, there's one more thing I wanted to ask you, and you can be sure that this is off the records, so you don't have to fear people quoting you for this; why the knife in the bag? You could easily argue that you put it in there for fun, but a man as pragmatic and smart as you doesn't strike me as the type of person to do such a thing…" James curiously asked as he stepped into the room alongside the guards.
Feeling the familiar and oh so lovely sense of freedom return to his hands, as the cuffs slackened and dropped to his side after being unlocked by the guards, Aves, rising to his feet, decided to humour the guy and mysteriously responded, "I used to be afraid of ghosts."
James' confused expression, as well as the guards' by his side, was all Aves managed to see before his eyesight suddenly turned indistinct, his knees went weak, and the ceramic floor grew closer, his last words echoing within his ears like the whispers of a devil.
Then, everything went black.
***
'I'm here again?'
Darkness. A pitch black void.
On one hand, It was colder than what he seemed to recall from the last time he was thrown into this place. On the other hand, the hardy sensation of the icy blue ceramic floor bashing into his head was the last thing he could remember of the tense situation he had suddenly been thrown into after his mother's death. Some time had passed after that turn of events — Aves was certain of that — but it was all too abstract for him to try and grasp onto those shadowy memories.
Putting a stop to his futile attempts at trying to remember how he came to be in this wretched, dark space again, Aves focused his attention in the direction of figuring out how to get out of it — or at least, attempt to figure out how the whole thing worked.
First things first though, Aves needed a suitable name for this place since it seemed that this might not be the last time he magically reappeared here, assuming that he left this place with all his limbs intact to begin with. He wasn't about to let the underlying danger of the situation keep him from the truly important things in life — scratching his OCD-itch, of course. And yes, though he still couldn't remember much, he finally was able to vaguely — extremely vaguely — recall how he squeezed his way out of this Abyss.
'Really? This is the first name that comes to mind? How depressing,' mulling over his lack of creativity for a bit, Aves felt his imaginary stomach lurch as he came to the painful realisation that his acts of trying to distract himself were fooling no-one, not even his momentarily confused consciousness.
Still, unwilling to face the cesspool of emotions he was keeping bottled up until this moment, Aves let the void carry his body in the direction that he assumed was forward.
'Is there an exit to this place to begin with?' Aves wondered, the pitch black around him a grim reminder that there probably wasn't.
Some time passed and, not knowing if he spent a single second or an entire eon on his venture into the unknown, Aves still couldn't tell if he was even moving forward or not — no less in thanks to the ever-consuming darkness around him — that bit hadn't changed since his last visit here. But, as if reconfirming Aves' earlier thoughts about the Abyss being somehow different now, he suddenly felt the very paramaters of his surroundings stretch and ebb as he tried to fathom the changes the abstract world was undergoing.
It was all too sudden, so he just found himself staring blankly at the events that unfolded in quick succession next.
Amidst his confusion, Aves' progress 'forward' suddenly came to a halt as the Abyss now took to trembling instead. Then the very fabric that made the world came apart into motes of monochromatic, pearly-white lights as trembling turned to pulsating, and pulsating to quaking.
And when it finally looked like the entire world was about to fall apart, Aves saw the countless motes of light take into sudden motion, flitting about unnaturally as they appeared to be amalgamating at a certain point in the distance. That point may as well have been light years away from Aves' distorted perspective, but for some reason, he could see what was happening at that point as clearly as he would've if he had been right next to it instead.
The specks of light, now an opalescent ball of glimmering light in the distance, grew larger and larger yet as more and more of the Abyss disintegrated into more of these specks, feeding the growth of the ball in a seemingly never ending cycle. Crazily enough though, as Aves observed this phenomenon with surprising calm, he noticed that no matter how many of these light particles were generated, the Abyss always seemed to patch up the holes they left behind immediately after.
In the end, as the ball of light grew large enough to dwarf even the greatest of stars in the universe, the flecks of light stopped emerging from the darkness all around him, ultimately re-subjecting the Abyss to the calm and quiet Aves had grown used to.
'Is it done?' Aves thought, 'And what the hell is this supposed to be?'
Confronted with what could be considered the most monstrous thing a human mind could possibly fathom, Aves was yet again somehow able to maintain his calm and thinking capacity. If anything, he was more surprised that he could see the entire 'star' despite how immense it was.
'This Star's sudden synthesis must've been triggered because of something I did. But what is it that I did? Perhaps I touched something, or passed by some invisible checkpoint while I was mindlessly wandering around?' He mused, lightly looking around while doing so.
As much as Aves would have loved to lose himself in his own world and think over things forever, the colossal star in front of him apparently had other plans in store for him.
Immediately after stopping its process of amalgamation, the star started thrumming with a low, bassy hum as it resonated with the Abyss around it in slow, rhythmic pulses. Not stopping there, however, its dim surface began fluctuating madly as it suddenly — maybe even violently — shrunk in on itself, seemingly fighting against the very own forces that constituted it.
As it grew smaller, the light it emitted went brighter. Yet, behind the veil of light that now surrounded the shrinking star, something was undoubtedly happening.
'It seems to be forming somethin—'
As awe inspiring as the entire process may have appeared to be, Aves abruptly felt his consciousness waver as a headache unlike anything he had ever experienced before crashed into his skull like a battering ram against a mouldy, wooden door.
He would've buckled over from the pain of the damned thing if he'd had a body to do so in.
'What the fuck is going on? How… come… I can feel pain… now?' Feeling himself lose even the primary ability to speak, Aves managed to take one last glimpse at the now dazzling, human-sized form of the star, oval was its shape and smooth was its surface, before everything went dark again.