"Well, I- I'm not sure how I have it either," I said after a few moments of silence had passed. He gazed deep into my eyes as a bead of sweat formed, threatening to slide down my already pale face.
'Can we please just slit his throat then the Dean's?' Volgar asked, his voice making me shake in the soft leather chair.
"As far as I'm aware, some random officer was kind enough to give you that," He finally said, a smirk on his rose lips. He stood up, signaled for me to follow, and then led me outside to the parking lot where my truck was waiting.
Cold air escaped his lips, mixing with the snow falling onto his shoulders and melting instantly as if he were the embodiment of heat. "Get that seat fixed, and don't tell anyone what you told me. There's a lawyer I need to contact, after that, it's up to you, Liam."
He turned away with those final words, and I could see his eyes glowing a tint of orange for a split second. Immediately I thought back to the man in my dreams and the figure that tore my seat apart.
Which caused me to stutter."Y-Yeah, thank you?" I was still confused about why he brushed off the recording, and his eyes only shook me up.
'Liam, how did he know about your truck seat? I can't see through the window from here and I have perfect vision,' Les asked, her voice eerily calm, clearly over her brief infatuation with the detective.
"I don't know, maybe his is better?" I responded, flapping my coat behind me as I got back into my truck and turned on the ignition. It was time I visited my parents since my suspension and hopefully manage to ask my mom why she hadn't contacted me.
"Hey, is it just me or was that weird?" I asked aloud, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road. I could see the signs blow past me, creating dozens of blurs resembling my thoughts.
"No, I'm just tired. It's been a while since I slept longer than a few hours," I reminded myself, ignoring my vocal thought and getting back on the road while the memory of my dreams, the figure that tore my seat apart, and the man I just met flowed through my head. I had to be missing something, but what?
***
I pulled into my parent's driveway, turned off my truck, and hopped out. Something told me they weren't going to be happy that I was home, let alone that I was suspended from school more than a week ago.
The second I stepped through the door, my mom marched up to me and slapped me hard across the face. A feeling so fierce my entire body shook. "Nice to see you too," I muttered, clutching my freshly red cheek.
"Where the hell have you been? Why did I get a call from the school saying you were suspended again?" She questioned, raising her hand to slap me again.
After a second of silence, ignoring Volgar's chanting, yelling at me to slit her throat, I spoke. "Because if I recall correctly, you refused to help me report the incident. So, I didn't see any reason to tell you where I went or why I was suspended. I'm eighteen, I have to take control of my own choices."
She slapped me harder than the first time, this time scraping my eye with her nail. "You think that's an excuse? Do you think it's okay to talk to me that way? I gave birth to you, watch your tone with me!" She demanded, slapping me an extra time on the shoulder.
Without saying another word, I walked back out of the front door, and she threw shoes from the shoe rack next to the door at me, each hitting me harder than the last. 'Kill.' A single word, a simple command. 'Kill her.' Volgar demanded, causing a warmth to spread through my body as I got angrier.
'Just one little punch, you can end all of this torment. Kill her. Kill. Do it!' He ordered, and I paused, my head slowly turned to face my mother as a shoe connected with my spine.
I could feel it, the insatiable need to kill. The need to murder someone. To watch their blood spill over my hands. It wasn't my feelings, I knew it, yet I couldn't resist.
As if Volgar's influence was at its peak. My legs turned around, making me walk back to the front door as a boot with a metal front slammed into my chest, yet I didn't flinch. My only thoughts were what Volgar was demanding. 'Throw your fist forward and turn it flat straight into her neck! Kill her!'
As I took one step closer, my elbow began to bend while my legs stretched forward. As if my entire body was contorting to his twisted will and was well within his realm of control. I could only watch what was going on without any emotion.
Suddenly, before I could throw my body forward, a hand slapped against my shoulder and spun me around to face an astronomically tall man, Detective Nala. He stared into my eyes, causing me to shiver, and I could suddenly reuse my limbs.
'Oh my god, I almost- What the fuck was that?!' I thought hurriedly as Nala continued forward, catching a shoe that was aimed at my head.
"Stop now. Unless you're willing to be charged with Assault, Reckless Endangerment, Child Abuse, and Assault with a deadly weapon. I'm sure we both know a metal boot is enough to kill someone if thrown with the force you did. Ma'am," He said, forcing the last word out with a sharp grin, clearly holding back from punching her himself.
"He's my son, I will do with him what I want to! This is legal!" She shouted back at him, preparing to throw another shoe, this one aimed at him.
He let out an exhausted sigh, and as he did, a wind blew hard, causing the metal screen door to slam into her nose. "Yes, because assaulting a police officer is such an amazing idea," He mumbled, rolling his eyes as my mom clutched her bleeding nose.
"Good news, my lawyer was willing to partner with you. He said you have a strong case," Detective Nala said, flashing me a smile as he signaled for me to enter my truck and follow him.
"How did you know-" I started, and then the memory of his eye glowing surfaced, causing me to stop. He was different, he had a tough air around him, like even the universe wasn't able to control him.
"Nice idea stopping, get in my car for now. He wants to see you immediately. You might know him as the father of Oliver Sil, Brett Sil."
***
We walked into a big building, adorned with thousands of windows, and more floors than I could count. The Detective led the way, talking to the woman at the front desk, while motioning for me to wait by a large golden elevator.
"I didn't even know a place like this existed near me," I mumbled, staring at the countless paintings lining the golden walls. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling of the first floor, and the names and signatures of presidents hung neatly above the front desk, right below a massive lion mural.
'Neither did I...' Les replied, seemingly taking in the bizarre scenery with me. Jewels surrounded pearly white gargoyles, which were on pillars next to the front entrance.
Finally, Detective Nala had finished talking to her and started walking toward me. With the flick of his finger, I followed him into the elevator and watched him push the button for floor eight. "So, who are we meeting again?" I asked quizzingly, trying not to show that I was nervous.
"We're meeting Brett Sil, along with a mutual friend of ours. If you want to win a case like this, you'll need a team of lawyers and substantial evidence. Some of what you have is circumstantial, and the confession is forced, which won't hold up in court," He explained, moving his hands as he spoke.
The elevator let out a soft ding, and we stepped onto a bright red rug, which led down a slim hallway with only a single room. "Woah..." I muttered softly, completely forgetting to respond to him.
He let out a defeated sigh, opened the door, and then ushered me in to meet with a group of people. All of them were flicking through papers, while some were messing around and reading, one of them upside down.
"So, this is the kid going against an entire school district?" The man hanging upside down asked, his tie covering his mouth. "Nice to meet you, Liam. My name's Jim. The man with tear stains on his collar is Brett, and the others are just people we hired to assist us."
"Uh- Hi? Nice to meet you too?" I replied, sweat rolling down the side of my face as he stared at me. Detective Nala, seemingly unfazed, walked forward, plopped down on the neat fluffy sofa, and flicked open a brown folder.
"Don't be so uptight, Brett's a good guy. Unless you're taken off guard by me?" Jim questioned, flashing an oddly eerie smile. I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something in his eyes that made me shudder, something almost evil.
"Ignore him, he's a good lawyer. Even if he's a tad strange, nice to meet you Liam, I'm Brett. Forgive me for my appearance, just going through a rough patch recently," Brett introduced, offering me his hand, which I shook.
Unlike Jim, Brett was more natural, he seemed more human. "Yeah, nice to meet you," I responded, trying to be polite as I remembered the speech Alan did on the stage. His friend, this man's son, was the one killed in the Gispellen shooting.