The following day, at the restaurant situated in front of the New Town stadium, where Stefan and Tina had previously agreed to meet, Tina arrived and entered the establishment. She scanned the crowded room, her eyes searching for Stefan, and spotted him sitting in a corner, adjacent to the window. She hastened towards him and grasped the chair opposite him.
On the table before Stefan stood a cup containing a pale brown liquid that Tina assumed was coffee.
"Let us dispense with the formalities and proceed directly to the matter at hand," she said, her voice firm and resolute. "Where is the box?"
Stefan's expression was one of utter bewilderment as he glanced at his wristwatch. "Wait... When did I instruct you to meet me here?" he asked, his tone laced with incredulity.
"You specified 10 a.m.," Tina replied, her voice conveying determination and a hint of impatience. "What is wrong with arriving early?"
Stefan retorted, his sarcasm evident. "It is 8:12 a.m., Tina. You should have arrived at midnight, or perhaps taken up residence here."
Tina scoffed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Says someone who arrived before me," she shot back.
Stefan explained, "I arrived merely two minutes ago. I had gone to Mike's residence to return his bag, which you observed me carrying yesterday."
"So Mike and Rachael are aware of the box's existence?" Tina inferred.
Stefan's nervousness became apparent as he stammered, "Wh... Why... why did you... say that?"
Tina's gaze locked onto him, her eyes demanding an answer.
"Of course, they know nothing about it!" Stefan exclaimed. "I discovered the box myself, and..."
"Then where is the box?" Tina interrupted, her voice firm and commanding.
Stefan's response was laced with sarcasm. "So threatening a tone from someone who should be begging for it." He folded his arms, a defensive gesture. "As you stated earlier, let us dispense with the formalities and proceed directly to the matter at hand. I shall relinquish the box, but on one condition."
"I knew it; everything inevitably leads to a condition. Tell me what you desire, and I shall comply with your request." Tina said, her voice conveyed her determination and willingness to acquiesce to Stefan's demands.
Stefan's condition was met with trepidation by Tina. "Tell me everything you know about the box and what it contains," he said. "Then, and only then, shall I hand over the box to you."
Tina flinched, her countenance reflecting her dismay and disapproval. "Are you insane? Why would I divulge that information?" she exclaimed, her voice laced with incredulity and disgust.
"That's my condition, Tina. I ask nothing more," Stefan replied, gesturing for her to make a choice.
Tina bowed her head, sighing reluctantly, and began to recount a story her father had told her. "An alien allegedly gave the box to my forefather, tasking him with protecting it from one generation to the next..." She shared a portion of the story with Stefan.
Stefan's curiosity was piqued. "What happens to whoever wields that power? Is there a cure, a way to remove the power from the person?" he asked.
"I don't know much about that, but according to what my father said…" Tina hesitated, her sentence trailing off as she gazed at Stefan, who was watching her expectantly. "Why are you asking these questions? Do you possess the power?"
Stefan stared closely at her and chuckled. "Do I look abnormal to you?"
"You're unusually curious about the box. What's your interest in it?" Tina asked, her eyes locked on Stefan.
"You don't look like you need the box; it's not that important to you anyway." Stefan said and stood up to leave.
Tina stood up, her voice rising in urgency. "According to what my father said!" she exclaimed, startling the other patrons.
Stefan flinched, halting his departure, and turned to the crowd with a bow. "I apologize for the disturbance." Tina followed his lead, also bowing.
Stefan slowly retraced his footsteps and sat down, his eyes fixed intently on Tina. "You frightened me," he muttered, his voice low and irritated.
Tina rolled her eyes and sat down, exasperated. "Whatever!" she exclaimed.
"Are you going to continue or…."
"Are you going to continue or…." Stefan began to speak, but Tina cut him off.
"The wielder can be stripped of their power, but it will come at the ultimate cost: their life!" she said, her voice firm. "He will die, so does that answer your question?"
Stefan nodded solemnly, acknowledging the gravity of the situation. "Sadly, yes. But I must know more. Does wielding the power render the book within the box blank and devoid of ink?" he asked, seeking to understand the reason behind the book's empty pages.
Tina scratched her head, surprised that Stefan possessed knowledge she hadn't anticipated. "I think so, yeah," she replied, her tone hesitant. "My father will be able to tell you more. Will you go see him?" she offered, hoping to facilitate a meeting.
Stefan stood up, his expression unyielding. "Your father again! You continually suggest I should meet him in our conversations. Your charm will not work on me," he said, his voice firm. "I believe I'm done with you, for now." He turned to leave, prompting Tina to shout, "What about the box!"
As Stefan proceeded towards the restaurant exit, Tina's voice grew more urgent. "We had a deal! Where is the...?"
"It's under the table, have a nice day!" Stefan simply responded, waved his hand dismissively and exited the establishment.
Tina bent down and saw the box lying under the table, its presence unexpected. "There you are, dear doom," she muttered, picking it up. "He should have just told me before standing up that the box was right under my nose, son of a bitch," she added, her voice laced with frustration and annoyance.
*****
Stefan visited Mike's residence and informed Rachael about the conversation he had with Tina regarding the box and the wielder.
"Don't you think we should seek Tina's father's assistance before Mike's condition worsens?" he asked.
"Isn't his condition already severe? If we involve Tina's father, we'll be in even more trouble. We could be charged with housebreaking, and I don't want to risk going to jail or putting my brother in harm's way because of a book," Rachael responded.
Stefan countered, "We're already in a difficult situation, and the matter at hand is far more complex than just a book. Seeking Tina's father's help and apologizing might be a step in the right direction. It could lead to finding a way to save your brother." Stefan countered.
"Didn't Tina say that curing Mike would mean the end of him?" Rachael inquired.
"We can't be certain about that yet. Tina might have been speculating," Stefan replied.
"Speculating? You think Tina is the type to do that? And judging by the mystery behind Mike, what she said might be truth," Rachael replied. "Mike is slowly improving, transitioning from being unable to perceive light to being sensitive to it. Isn't that progress? He's also trying to understand the nature of his transformation."
"What are you two discussing?" Mrs. Smith's voice came from behind, interrupting their conversation.
Stefan and Rachael turned around, shocked to see her standing beside the door with her hands on her hips.
Rachael stammered, "You... You didn't go to work today?!" Rachael stammered.
"It's Saturday, dear." Mrs. Smith replied, however her questioning stare never left Rachael.
"We're just trying to help Mike," Rachael explained. Stefan nodded in agreement,
"Yeah, that's right! We're discussing ways to offer assistance."
"If you want to help, do nothing. Let the doctors handle it. You don't need to complicate things further," Mrs. Smith advised.
"Mom, he's my brother too. Don't I have the right to be worried? Why can't I help him?" Rachael protested. "And that apart, what's happening to him goes beyond physical; it's a complex phenomenon, there's so much mystery surrounding his…" Her sentence trailed off as Stefan tapped her, urging her to say no more.
"She won't believe anything you say unless you want her to think you're crazy. Our only option is to find a way to solve this without your parents' knowledge," he whispered to her.
Mrs. Smith's voice cut through the air, her tone laced with a mix of curiosity and concern. "What are you whispering about now? Are you plotting your mischievous actions?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly as she gazed at the duo.
Stefan and Rachael exchanged a nervous glance, aware that they had been discussing sensitive information in her presence.
Mrs. Smith continued, her voice firm but laced with a hint of uncertainty. "Nothing is beyond the realm of physical explanation and the knowledge and experience of the doctors. We live in a civilized world, where technology is constantly advancing and improving our lives." She paused, her eyes welling up with tears. "I know something unusual is happening to my son, and I'm sure everything will be alright. We just need to have faith in the doctors and their abilities."
Rachael noticed her mother's tears and immediately pulled her into a tight hug. Both women wept, their emotions raw and palpable. Stefan, unable to bear the emotional intensity of the moment, quietly excused himself and left the room, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over him.
*****
As night descended, Mike finally stirred from his deep slumber, despite the efforts of the medical staff to rouse him earlier.
Dr. Tom cautiously approached him, shining a slit lamp into his eyes to examine his pupils. However, Mike recoiled in agony as the light hit his eyes, and with a sudden burst of strength, he shoved the doctor aside, sending him crashing against the wall. Dr. Tom's body hit the ground with a loud thud, and he lapsed into unconsciousness.
Mike rose from the bed, his eyes glowing with an eerie green light as sharp claws emerged from his fingers. His clothes tore apart as two massive wings sprouted from his back, filling the room with an otherworldly presence.
The two nurses who had rushed in to investigate the commotion took one look at Mike's menacing alien form and fled in terror, screaming as they scurried down the corridor.
Mike swooped out of his ward, his wings beating powerfully as he pursued the fleeing nurses. With swift and deadly precision, he silenced them with his claws, ripping out their necks. The corridor erupted into chaos as doctors and nurses rushed to the scene, only to fall victim to Mike's merciless attack.
"What the hell are you?" Dr. Philip, his voice barely above a whisper, muttered as he clutched his throat, blood gushing out like water from a broken pipe.
Mike, his wings still fluttering, hovered in the corridor, surveying the carnage before him.
"Mike... Mike!" A faint, familiar voice called from behind. He turned swiftly, his wings brushing against the wall, and saw a lady, trembling and crying, at least a meter away. Mike's anger surged, and he dived toward her, slashing through her ribcage and eviscerating her inner organs.
But as he looked upon his victim, Mike's anger dissipated, replaced by horror and control. He stumbled backward, muttering, "What have I done?" His eyes fell upon a familiar lifeless body on the ground, and he slowly approached, his heart heavy with dread.
"Oh no, no, no! Mom!" He cried. "What have I done?"