"Excuse me. Could we borrow the phone?"
Stepping out of our room, we made a beeline to the master bedroom and knocked on the door.
"At this time?"
Our mother opened the door with a yawn. Dressed in a large oversized shirt for men, she pushed the door wider to allow us in and closed it behind us.
"I guess it's time for the two of you to get your own cellphones."
Sitting up on the bed, our father shoved aside the blanket and stood up. Hooking his arm around Mother's shoulders, he waved for us to use the phone before leaving the room with her.
"Cellphone?"
"It's a small device that works like a telephone that you can carry around. It's quite expensive. Andrew offered to buy it for Alex and me back then, however, both of us didn't have any friends in High Street so we declined."
Dialing a string of numbers on the telephone, Oliver pressed the speaker button. After a couple of soft beeps, a man's voice rang out from the machine, smooth and arrogant, befitting his aristocratic name.
"Oliver? For what reason are you calling me at such an unreasonable time?"
A handsome yawn followed.
"Raven is in danger. Have you heard of what happened to Hope Research Center?"
"Hmm? No, I haven't. What happened?"
The words were said with a drawl, like a predator who twirls a strand of hair around their fingers, a calculating smile on their lips, every word spoken a fishing line to reel in their unsuspecting prey. It was bone-chilling, and I hugged myself to calm the hairs standing up on my forearm.
"The research center is being pressured to restrain their scientists. Raven, who was at the center, is currently being held back and can't finish his paper."
"...You want me to write his paper, don't you? To draw attention away from Hope Research Center."
The predator paused, its smile gone, as it straightened its back, locking its eyes on its target, a young fearless fawn.
"Yes."
"What a thing to ask of me."
"Of course, we will make it worth your while."
"Oh? And how will you do that?"
From the telephone speaker, a sigh with a hint of amusement echoed through the room. Despite the serious topic, it was awfully casual and even slightly playful, like a predator toying with its prey.
"Emily."
The room temperature turned freezing, and I could almost feel the waves of anger radiating off the speakers as the silence dragged on like sharp claws on skin.
"How dare you use Emily to threaten me."
Breathing sounds slowly escalated from the other end of the phone, like a dragon's chilly breath. Immediately, in order to prevent the situation from degrading into an unsalvageable mess, Oliver cut into the ice with calm but decisive words.
"No. But we do have some information about her."
Silence.
"Speak."
Oliver gave a brief summary of what the systems had found. All their information, our hypothesis, plans, and how they hadn't found Emily yet but had someone searching the Asylum as we spoke.
"It would only be a matter of time until we find her. And if you agree to write the paper, we promise to help Emily escape from the Asylum."
...
"Heh."
A deprecating laugh fired from the phone, and Jonathan's voice seemed to be weaved with negative emotions that further sucked the warmth out of the air. However, without seeing the expression on his face, I couldn't determine whether these emotions were anger, desperation, or frustration.
"I accept."
He sneered, and shortly afterward, the harsh beep of the phone pierced our ears as he hung up.
"That's one call done. Now to inform Flint and Zack."
Oliver dialed another set of numbers, and we waited for a while before a familiar voice answered.
"I was expecting your call."
There were no pleasantries, no beating around the bush. The moment Zack picked up, he went straight to the main point with his words. Behind him, Flint made a small noise before he was hushed.
"So you've heard?"
"Yes. So where is the new meeting place?"
"Love Research Canter."
A loud whistle came from the phone, and a mixture of surprise and shock infected the shout that came from behind him.
"Same time tomorrow?"
"Yes."
"Alright. Then, see you."
Zack hung up, I released a breath of relief.
"Now everything is set for tomorrow."
Oliver placed the receiver back and stood up. Following him, we left the bedroom in near silence.
Stepping out, we saw our two parents sitting on the couch, their hands entwined as they smiled and whispered to each other. Mother laid her head on our father's shoulder, her finger sketching circles on his arm as they talked. In return, my father had his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a half-hug.
"Mom! Dad!"
Running up to them, I smiled as I inserted myself between the two of them.
"The two of you done with the phone?"
"Yep!"
Winding my arms around the two of theirs, I pulled them closer to reduce the gaps between us where cold air could fit. Jonathan's freezing call had left me all cold, and Zack's curt reply didn't make things better.
Snuggling up to them, I sighed as I felt the ice around my heart start to melt.
I leaned my head against my father's arm, my shoulders relaxing as I lifted my gaze to Oliver.
"Oliver! Come here!"
Gesturing to him, I watched as he paused, a painfully jealous expression on his face as his fist lightened.
"Oliver?"
Snapping out of whatever he was thinking, Oliver showed a hesitant face as he stumbled over to us.
"...Is it really alright?"
He bit his lips, his eyes flickering between us and the ground. Once he was close enough, I reached out from between our parents to pull him beside me.
"What do you mean by alright? Aren't we family?"
I squished him between us, his cold and clammy skin in contact with our mother and me. Giving him my best smile, I watched as those obsidian eyes lightened and an awkward smile crept onto his face.
"Family."
Mother smiled as she snuck a hand behind our backs, Stringing us next to each other as she pulled us into a large hug. Feeling my cheek squeezed onto her chest, I laughed as I felt a large hand, our father's, on my back as he completed the hug, trapping the two of us between the adults.
"And as family, we will always be there for you. So don't hesitate to ask us for help."
He gave a pointed look towards Oliver before releasing his overwhelmingly strong and sturdy hold on us.
"Yes...Van."
Oliver whispered, a flash of frustration crossed his face at the last word. However, shaking his head, our father patted his shoulder, telling him to take his time, before shooing us back to our room to prepare to sleep.
Walking over to the bookshelf, I took my clothes and draped them over my arm. Turning around, I was about to head to the toilet when I noticed Oliver standing near the door, his face a sheet of white as he hugged himself.
"Oliver?"
Going up to him, I saw the strong expression of guilt on his face and couldn't help reaching out to him.
"Oliver?"
Jerking his head up to meet my gaze, Oliver took several breaths and showed me a shaky smile.
"Yes?"
"Are you alright?"
Releasing his hand from his arm, I caught sight of a bloody red imprint before he covered it up.
"Yes. I'm fine. I'm fine."
Hurrying to the bookshelf, he draped a towel over the red area.
"You don't look fine.
"..."
He froze, his back towards me, obscuring his face from my view.
"I'm fine. It's just, it feels so unfair sometimes."
A nasally voice wriggled through the air, it crawled with its last breath, a look of despair on its face as it slowly faded into nothing.
The sound of a large gasp came from the boy in front of me, and I saw his hand move up towards his face, before withdrawing with a sheen of water on it.
Taking silent steps towards him, I reached my hand out to that small back. However, before my fingers could touch him, I paused.
What could I possibly offer him right now? Consolation? Sympathy? An 'I'm Sorry'? I have no idea what kind of life he lived through, so any words right now would be like flavored air. Maybe a little sweet, but useless and superficial.
The two systems had left, off to do system things or something. It was only the two of us in this room, and I had no idea what to do.
Lowering my hand, I stood still as a statue behind him, listening to the near-silent gasps that shook the child in front of me.
I was useless. Again.
Clenching my fist, I could feel my nails dig into my palm, the tiny pricks of pain a reminder of this sick and nasty feeling that I thought would disappear the moment I joined a project for the faction.
In front of my eyes, the version of me I saw reflected in Oliver's eyes gave an earsplitting smile as it looked at me. The void strode closer, the crack on its face widening until it was right in front of me.
If I reached out my hand, I would be able to touch its pitch-black skin.
'Join us.'
Opening its jagged mouth, it laughed in my face as those obsidian eyes grinned at me. Curving into crescents, their points as sharp as blades, those black black eyes seemed to beckon to me, extending their hands as they promised impossibly dark fantasies.
'Take revenge.'
The void stretched out an arm, its scythe-like fingers caressing my face gently as it came closer. And closer. So close that our eyes were nearly touching. The coldness of its touch as sweet as death's embrace as it pulled me closer and closer, so close, so near, that I could smell the scent of blood and murder on its lips.
'Kill them.'
The black breath coming from those lips obscured my vision, blinding me in darkness; yet I still felt as if I could see the void lean back, its arm retracting before it shot out, the nails on it a piercing black as it flew towards me.
And at the very last second, just as those invisible blades were about to reach my eyes, a sudden warmth from my hand broke the void's hold on me.
Those nails stopped just shy of my face, their large points retreating as I heard a disappointed clack of a tongue in my mind as the void walked away.
"Dan."
Blinking, my sight focused on Oliver, who was holding my hand in his. Puffy eyes that were tinted red stared at me with worry.
"I'm alright. It's fine. Sorry."
I retracted my hand, wrapping it around myself as the two of us awkwardly faced each other, a million thoughts on our minds yet no words to speak them with.
After a while, when I had warmed up enough, I took a small step back before slowly turning away.
"Then, I'll go bathe first."
Oliver's head jerked as his gaze sprung up to me. He showed a conflicted expression, his lips curled in as he kept flickering between me and the floor. Finally, he just nodded his head.
I gave a nod back and opened the door, allowing it to close behind me before heaving a silent sigh.
So useless. Can't even show proper consideration for someone who obviously went through more. Useless, useless, useless.
Pushing myself off the door, I headed to the toilet to wash up. There was no time for self-loathing. Tomorrow was a busy day.