1 Year Later
"Yo Spen!" The muscular boy said, kicking the bottle in front of him. Spen ignored him, just looking up ahead at the rising moon. His hair was cut in a mohawk and he had donned on a black torn sleeveless jacket and ripped jeans.
"Spen."
"What?"
"I was looking for ya all over the place. Why'd you always come here?"
"Can't I have some privacy?"
"Well...it's about the festival. You said you'd help me... you know,"
Spen stared at him and broke into laughing, almost falling into the pool.
"It ain't funny Spen!"
"You should look at yourself in the mirror, Hugh. You're blushing like a girl in love. Oh, I forgot. You are in love."
"Are you gonna help me or not?"
"I will, I will. Just don't go squealing like the last time."
"Hey!"
Spen laughed out loud.
"Speaking of which, who are you going with."
"You, duh?"
"I mean, Alberta and I would meet, so..."
"Really don't mind going alone, y'know."
"Heh. Knowing you, you've already got someone you're going out with. I'll see you around."
Spen said nothing. The festival was the annual Carnival of Brazil. To Spen, it was a day he didn't want to be seen. Last year he'd gone with his mom. This year...well, she wasn't around.
"If it isn't Spen."
"Oh. Miguel." Spen said, fist bumping the inquisitor. Miguel had changed to over time. He'd lost an eye, with a long scar running along the side of his face. To add on to that, his left arm was failing him. Only Spen and a few others were privy to this, but who could stop him. He was the only inquisitor they had. Apparently there was a shortage of inquisitors globally or something like that.
"Another scouting?"
"Si." Miguel said, "Not much though. A lot of new ones, thats all."
"That's cool. Guess that means that tomorrow's gonna be a free day, huh?"
"Hopefully." Miguel said.
"That means you're going out with her, huh?"
"Yeah... wait hold on, what?!"
"Oh please. Who in this town doesn't know about you and Jose's daughter. The sweet and elegant damsel Annabeth who nurses the mighty Miguel."
"I'd say your imagination's running wild."
"Oh yeah. Lie to yourself. Let tomorrow come and we'll see."
"Heh. Good night, Spen."
Spen nodded, watching the inquisitor go. He sighed, returning his gaze to the moon.
His dreams hadn't stopped. They had become bearable. He no longer feared the wolf. It was more or less like they were on mutual agreement. But it left him with more questions. And when he tried to ask...
That was the reply he got. He wouldn't understand. Hell then make him understand. He was haunting him every night for crying out loud. That was the least he could do. And the creepiest and most annoying thing was it's smile. Like a crescent moon.
"Good evening, mi hijo."
Spen rolled his eyes, turning swiftly to face Dr. Vott. He hadn't changed much, growing a little taller and replacing his purple hued glasses with a casual pair (and getting a haircut.)
"What do you want?"
"Me, nothing. Nothing at all."
"Thought Miguel told you to leave."
"He didn't say when." Dr Vott said, sitting down beside the boy. "Besides, I still haven't heard your answer."
"And I still don't trust creepy scientists."
"Ouch. That really hurts."
"Look. I get that I have a hollow or whatever its called. And I get that its alive. But I'm happier here. I've got new friends and new family. I'm not going to lose that. Not again."
"I understand." Dr. Vott said. "But is it truly what you want, or is it to honor the will of the dead."
The black claw was already at Dr. Vott's neck. But Dr. Vott didn't flinch. Just smiled.
"Bingo," Dr. Vott said. Spen withdrew his hand, the black claw slowly fading away.
"No matter how hard you try to appease her, how much you do to appease her, she died. Let the dead deal with their problems, and focus on your own."
"You know nothing about my mom to say that! Nothing."
"True. She might have been amazing. But that does change anything, does it?" Dr. Vott said as he strolled away. "Good night, mi hijo."
Spen glared at him as he walked away. Talking to him about honoring the dead. Nonsense. Looks like he'd stay here for a little while. To let go of his pent up anger, lest he lash out on Hugh again.