Regaining her consciousness, Ain opened her eyes to discover her nightgown soaked with sweat, and a dark, reddish, dot staining the laces straddling her breasts. Surprised to see the bleeding so inconsequential in comparison to the amount of work on Arman's mind.
Ain stretched herself down from the bed, saw that more than an hour had passed. She scanned the house, found Arman in a restful deep sleep. Then to her surprise reading even Aunt Maisara. She pondered then decided to do nothing of the older woman's memories, spared from John Doe's manipulations.
I'm to be a little mystery in their lives then…
She went to the bathroom and cleaned herself before returning to her room. Ain stripped herself from the nightgown which she placed carefully on top of the bed before slipping into the clothes she had worn before going to sleep. Saw an old, red on grey backpack sitting lonely atop the wardrobe and in went the spare T-shirt and pants.
Should I leave a message perhaps?
She discarded the idea, deciding that the task of finding either pen, or pencil and writing paper in the dark would be a tedious affair. Ain stepped into the semi-dark passage leading to the living room where Arman slept and saw him rustling underneath his blanket, his tall frame curled to fit the three-seater sofa.
Ain quietly entered the kitchen and was heading to the side door of the house, the one with the push to lock knob when she spied Arman's wallet atop the dining table, together with the keys to his pickup. Swiped some cash from it. The car keys she left alone.
Welcome to the unknown, Ain. Whatever will you do from now on?
Taking a last glance at Arman who was snoring lightly, Ain exited the house stepping out into a moonlight lit overcast of the house and its surrounding area, the parked pickup a gleaming steel asking if she didn't want to be within its familiar and comfortable cabin.
"Thank you for taking me this far."
Ain went to the pickup, caressed its surface before striding away from it and the house.
****
For the last half an hour, Saari could only stare blankly at the plaster ceiling, his body wrapped underneath a cool duvet, the thick mattress a comfortable cushion underneath, the downlights in front of the bathroom casting a soft, amber glow.
He had opened his eyes to find himself unable to move a single muscle upon returning from his latest encounter with the much-hated Syafa. Blood flowed from his nostrils, staining his cheeks and the bedsheet below him. He felt helpless, his body virtually a husk. Unable to exert any control over his body as seconds became minutes as the hour mark loomed closer.
They had driven from the hospital in Kendall's car and had stopped at the hotel upon reaching the small town of Tapah. She had insisted they stay overnight. Paid for two rooms and they went their separate ways after dinner.
It was during the drive that Saari heard the voice in his mind, said she's helped sharpen his mind scans to pick up Arman's thoughts. He found the young man who was with Syafa and knew she would be close by.
How he had survived her assault Saari could only guessed the reasons. Recalling her protection of both him and Arman. Saari took it as one which was purely co-incidental but was still perplexed recalling how coldblooded Syafa had been in dealing with the others who help pushed his abilities to the limit.
Just A boost, they had said. Wouldn't harm him one bit, they assured him.
That didn't matter so much since he had witnessed a much worser fate to one of them after Syafa destroyed everything in her path. That death came swiftly was merciful on her part. A stark contrast to the hellish treatment she had meted out to him and Mohir at the hospital.
It was his best friend's painful scream which woke Saari from his coma. One which hammered his whole being like a torrential storm. He saw a maelstrom of Mohir's consciousness taking form and then shredding to pieces. Over and over, until it tore apart from the intense tug of war between God knows who leaving a scream etched in Saari's mind as he huddled within a dark and foreboding place where no light existed.
Syafa. Saari heard and saw her fleeting image. Followed by one last curse. Mohir's. She did him in. He knew it so.
The very same darkness holding Saari together throughout the ordeal prevented him from joining Mohir in the sweet release of death.
He soon embraced the blotting darkness, tapping upon it to exact his revenge against Syafa.
The whole episode had awakened Saari but only his mind. He was still physically incapacitated while his sanity on the edge from having tens and hundreds of faceless, shadowy figures speaking, shouting, screaming incessantly around him every goddamn moment.
Everything Saari had to suffer from that moment on pointed to Syafa's doing. She was the cause of it all. And thus, the blotting darkness within him grew bigger and stronger. Saari also discovered of a hunger within him being sated by manipulating the dreams, the wishful thinking, the wayward thoughts of those whose focus were far more tenuous.
What of the other voices? Those deliberate in engaging him?
Tonight was the second of such encounter for Saari. The first provided a vehicle for him to track down Arman to the roadside restaurant. He didn't know what happened to the man with a voice so young, so bold.
This second was far more mature, speaking in words measured and calming. Made Saari believe himself capable of extending his abilities beyond the limits he thought he had reached. He started by his mind scans further south and discovering the young man readying to go to sleep at a house in an area where the neighbors wear nauseatingly caring and kindly thoughts of each other. And yes, their noticing the pretty young woman at his side.
He was sure it was Syafa and rather than influence the minds of the many in the area to do his bidding, Saari decided in using Arman to make it so much sweeter. The mature one said they would support him. Giving him added strength to confront Syafa.
They were all wrong. He was sure the mature one had survived as the barely heard death scream from within Syafa's light cocoon was that of a woman.
Why did she spare him, though? Was she…
Saari could do nothing but stare into the ceiling of his rented room. Eyelids frozen solid. Worse than when he was lying in bed at the hospital where his physical body was not strained.
Dawn was breaking when he finally felt a tingly sensation in his fingers, an agonizing coldness moving at a snail-pace along his body. Followed by the comfort of finally being able to close his beyond tired eyes. By the time he could move his hands, the morning sunlight had begun to peek into the sparsely decorated room.
And the darkness within him re-emerging from its hiding place. Again finding its voice within Saari's mind.