Chereads / Fractless / Chapter 58 - Murder and Witness

Chapter 58 - Murder and Witness

My mind lagged before I fully came back to my senses. It was then that I found myself standing among numerous piles of bodies.

Did I do this…?

I looked down at my hands and saw that they were lathered with blood. Suddenly, I heard a door creak open near the back of the kitchen. A short man wearing a cafe apron came out.

"That was exactly what I was looking for, Klyson." He smiled. I knew it wasn't his real smile either, but rather—

"Ian!" My eyes darted around, panicked at the sight that surrounded me. "W-What happened?!"

"Were you that entranced by your awakened state?" The short barista scoffed. "You did this, Klyson. The blood of 21 innocent lives are on your hands. The cameras saw everything."

In the corner of my eye, I saw the two security cameras facing my way.

Shit!

"There's no going back now, Klyson. You wouldn't be able to return to A.X.A. after a massacre like this."

"W-What!? B-But—!"

"You have no choice but to join Heathen now."

I slammed the counter with frustration. I realized I'd gotten too lost in the flow of my awakened state that I hadn't realized the repercussions that would come with it. In the moment, I only saw the ones attacking me as proxies from Heathen. If I hadn't been so blind-sighted, I would have remembered that they were just innocent civilians being controlled by Ian.

I had taken those innocent lives. I was a murderer.

Fuck! Shit! There's no way this is happening right now!

I grabbed at my head, nearly pulling strands of hair out of my scalp. "Argh! This is so fucked up! None of this was supposed to happen! Why did this happen?!"

"Don't ask me that. You did this to yourself."

"You're the one who sent them after me!"

"And you're the one who killed them. You'll obviously be the one at fault for all of this." The barista then smiled. "But I'm going to give you a chance, Klyson. A choice you can make, because you've impressed me with your results today."

"W-What…? What choice?"

"I have control of the cameras, so I have control of the footage. I'm going to distort the footage so that no one knows that you did this."

My anxiety suddenly went haywire because knowing Ian, I understood where this was going. "But at what cost…?"

"You kill the man who stands before you, this man I currently speak to you with. Stain your hands with the blood of one more person and you could be rest assured you will not be found guilty for any of this, yet."

"Yet!? How does that ensure anything!? I'm not going to kill another innocent person over your influence!"

"With no security footage to prove you responsible for all of this, there is only one thing that could easily make you a target for the authorities. A witness."

My eyes widened. He continued to speak.

"Soon, I will release my control over this man, and when I do, he will bear witness to all the atrocities you've committed. Surely he will report this to the authorities, and you will be a clear prime suspect. If he does, consider your life forever on-the-run until A.X.A. catches you. Or, you can kill him right here, right now, and ensure that he won't live to expose the sins you've committed today. The camera footage will be distorted, so no one would know you did it, or any of this."

The dilemma quickly grounded me in place. My head was suddenly heavy, trying to balance the scale of this moral predicament Ian's forced me to face.

My heart and brain engaged in a conflict.

He's an innocent man. He doesn't deserve to die for no reason.

My heart beat loudly in line with my moral compass. But my brain, the logical devil, had been twisted past righteousness after encountering so many horrific events as of late. 

You've already killed 21. One more won't hurt.

"No… No!" I turned away from the barista and faced the wall, shunned by the sight of all the corpses fallen to my wicked fury. "I won't do it, Ian! I can't!"

The barista burst into a roaring laughter. "Are you serious!? After killing this many people already, you struggle with killing just one more!?"

"I wasn't in my right mind! I wasn't thinking straight! I didn't intend to!" I screamed. The torment from the guilt that swelled inside of me was unbearable. I didn't know what to do. I was stuck in between the choices in a twisted version of the trolley problem.

"This is the third time you've chosen to reject Heathen, Klyson. Just know that every time you deny the inevitable, the next set of consequences will be even more dire than the last." The barista raised his arms to the sides, displaying his entirety to me. "And with that, I'll do what I always do, and offer you one final chance. Kill me, Klyson."

I looked at him, and he looked at me. His eyes, full of Ian's intent, stared into mine that began to swell with pressured tears. My heart and mind were in a game of tug-of-war. The line in-between separated the boundaries of my ethical values. They kept going back and forth, so I couldn't make up my mind. It wasn't until I looked into his eyes, past the mirage imposed by Ian, that I could feel from him a sense of dread and fear. My eyes widened with that realization.

"No," I said. "I won't kill you."

My heart had won the game. 

"Very well then." The barista dropped his arms. "You've asked for this."

He continued to stare at me lifelessly, until suddenly, his eyes were ignited with life. 

Ian's released his control.

I watched as his pupils dilated with fear as he panned a sight at the café, horrified beyond measure by the bloody mess. When he looked back at me, he saw the same blood on my own two hands.

"Y-You…" He shivered. He stumbled backwards into the counter, grabbing it to support himself. He was petrified when his hand slipped from a bloody spill, causing him to fall onto the floor. I watched as he looked at me like I was a monster.

"Y-You did this!" He screamed. His eyes darted around, noticing that even his coworkers were dead. I saw as that realization set-in for him. I watched as his uncontrollable shiver quickly diluted into paralysis, either of fear, sorrow, or possibly anger. I wanted to say something, anything, that could possibly reassure him. But how could I possibly do that when I was responsible for all of this? I remembered what Ian said, about how he would become the witness who would bring about my downfall.

With how much guilt I currently harbored, I couldn't care any less.

I deserve to be punished for this. 

I wanted to make amends any way I could.

"I-I'm so sorry—"

"Stay away!!!" He shouted, interrupting my apology. I could see that my step forward startled him.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just trying to say that I'm so—"

"Stay away!!!" His hand suddenly raised. He'd had his index finger pointed at me like a gun.

Zap—!

I felt a little static tickle my chest. It startled me, but I felt no pain.

Electric discharge?

"Listen to me, I'm not going to hurt you." I took another step forward. He raised his other hand in response.

Zap—!

It hit my chest. It was nothing more than a little static shock. He'd done the same thing with the other hand now. Both were now pointed at me in the shape of guns.

That must be his Fractal, releasing a little electric discharge. It's as if he's rubbed his hands on a carpet for a while then touched me, except he can do it from a distance too.

I recognized that it was a non-threatening Fractal.

"I don't appreciate you raising your Fractal against me like that," I said. "I've already told you multiple times now that I'm not going to hurt you."

"I-I don't care!" He shuddered. "You killed all my friends! You killed everyone here! Y-You're going to kill me too!"

"I'm not going to kill you! I'm a Fractless! My hands bear no weapons right now either! Please, just calm down!"

The barista began to fall through the depths of anxious madness. "I-I can't die now. I'm about to graduate school! I also just got a girlfriend! What if Tyler takes her when I'm gone? He's been eyeing her a lot lately. I told him to back off, but he won't stop talking to her still! Is it because he doesn't see me as a threat? But I already asked her out and she said yes. Why would he still try to get with her if she's already mine? She's already mine! But Tyler keeps talking to her. If I die now, he'll definitely get with her. If I'm gone, she probably won't have anything to stop her from accepting him either—"

He was rambling to himself nonstop. His eyes were going bloodshot. Being faced with what he thought were his final moments, his mind began to spiral through its thoughts and extreme layers of emotion.

"What if she says yes? What if she lets Tyler hit on her? Why would Tyler hit on her if she's already my girlfriend? Is it because he doesn't see me as a threat? Is it because I'm short? Is it because I'm…?"

He froze mid-sentence. It looked like he had come to his own conclusion.

"He must not feel threatened by me because I have a weaker Fractal than him."

I tried to butt-in. "Hey, I—"

"If I die now, I won't be able to stop Tyler from having her. If I die now, it'll prove to him that I was just weak after all. If I die now, it'll mean I never deserved her in the first place."

What is this guy going on about? Does he really think I'm going to kill him? I already said I wouldn't!

"If I die now, she won't be my girlfriend anymore. If I die now, I'll be alone, forever."

"Hey, I already said I'm not going to kill you!"

He finally returned my gaze. But upon eye contact, I could tell he'd lost it. 

"I won't let you kill me," he said.

He's completely tuning me out. He isn't even listening to what I'm saying.

"If you kill me here now, just like the rest of my friends, I'll be all alone… All alone in the darkness!" Tears began to pour from his eyes. His face was being lathered with sorrow and fright. "I don't want to die. I don't want to die!"

"I said I'm not going to kill you!"

"Why are you going to kill me?!?"

"What—!? That's not what I said!"

He's gone completely delusional.

"I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die—"

He was slowly rising to his feet, heaving with a heavy shortened breath. Rather than wiping his puffy red eyes that were dripping tears onto the floor, he kept his hands locked in their gun shape.

"I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die—!!!"

His head suddenly cocked-up and he locked eye contact with me. But rather than read fear in his eyes, this time there was fire.

Straight aggression.

In abrupt motion, he raised his hands, still retaining their gun shape, and pointed them directly at me.

"Discharge: Electromotive Force—!!!"

The world slowed down to my flow, as I watched a remorseless amount of electricity emit from the barista's fingertips towards me, like a lightning bolt that had just been released from his hands.

  1. A moral dilemma represented by having to choose between using a trolley to kill a group of people, or a single person. The point is not how many people die, but rather, the idea that people die either way. A single person's life weighs more than one can imagine.