A Modern Myth

by Clara Wake

  Nickolai is sapped, uncertain on how to respond. He watches his small friend stammer his words and play with his hands before him. Nickolai smiles and it brightens the more he thinks about the gesture. This is the first time he’s received a gift.

  “Where the hell did you get earrings from?” Nickolai teases, inquiring quickly to break the fear from Jake’s face.

  “Doesn’t matter. I got a piercing gun too, so, can I?” He ignores the question, and quickly bounces back to the original setting and attempts to bribe him or at least convince him to do it.

  “You're full of surprises, Jake,” Nickolai scoffs, and before chuckling softly and sitting down on the ground. “Can I at least see the earrings, so I can see which I like, and where I’d want them? Or do you have a say on that too?” He jokes, watching Jake as he sits down beside him and props his bag on his lap.

  “Here,” Jake finally brings out a small case, with what looks like six studs, one long and large cuff, and two loops. Handing them to Nickolai, he watches him for a moment before gathering some cleaning material and the piercing machine.

  Nickolai looks at them for a while, as one of his hands strokes and draws his fingertips along the length of his ears. He’s lost in focus, as he stares down at the case now sitting on his lap. He finally looks up and lets out a soft sigh, turning to Jake as he drops his hand from his left ear and hums softly, “Ok, I know,” He sighs once more. “Ready?” he asks Jake. “Two studs at the bottom, loop as well, and the cuff at the top,” he points to where he’d like them.

  Jake nods proudly and lets out a nervous sigh, “This might hurt,” he warns Nickolai, who doesn’t bother to respond; he’s been through worse, and Jake should know that.

  Jake is scared to harm Nickolai, and he knows this. His nerves shake his hands. “It’s fine, Jake. Go ahead,” Nickolai coaches, soothing his worries and lifting his spirits. Bringing the gun up to press against his earlobe, Jake punctures each ear and manages to get both studs in perfectly, all while holding his breath with each pull of the trigger.

  “See? You’re doing fine,” Nickolai tells him. Sure, it hurts, but he holds it in. His ears have always been sensitive, and this is painful. However, he bites down on his tongue and chews on his cheek—anything to keep himself from showing any sign of discomfort. He doesn’t want Jake feeling like shit. He is fine.

  After Jake finishes the first pair, he takes a deep breath and immediately looks to Nickolai. “Are you okay?” he whines, “I know your ears are sensitive. I’m an idiot; I didn’t think this through, did I?” He starts to blabber his words, in a fit of worry only to have Nickolai glare at him; that famous resting bitch face.

  “I told you, it’s fine. Now hurry up with the others, will you?” Nickolai playfully scolds him.

  The entire time his ears are pierced, Nickolai clenches his fists around a heap of leaves on the ground, that soothing sound dissolving into the air and giving a sense of clarity, numbing the pain while the last four piercings are completed.

  “Done!” Jake cheers and finally lets out a heave of breaths, almost panicking. Smacking Nickolai on the back, he moves away and observes his work, a job well done.

  “Looks pretty badass,” he smirks and runs his eyes over the length of Nickolai’s ears, making sure he isn’t bleeding or bruising at all.

  “Finally. You took your time,” Nickolai scoffs, returning the smack to his back and getting up and dusting off the gathering leaves to his pants and backside.

  “Heads up! Don’t forget to clean them with this,” Jake remembers and tosses a small bottle of sterile saline solution his way.

  “Hopefully they won’t get ripped out by the others,” Nickolai exhales deeply after catching the solution – what is meant to be a joke only turns out to be a haunting realization for Jake because it’s clearly something they’d do if they got the chance.

  Jake stalls and stands on the hill as he watches Nickolai move down towards the shed, regretting the idea already. Now, he is petrified that what Nickolai joked about will in fact happen and it will be his fault. Guilt towers over him, leaning against his shoulders and drowning his chest. Shit.

  The night is cold, unusual for summer but certainly celebrated among the Compound. It’s soothing sleeping weather.

  Although, that isn’t the case for Nickolai and he finds himself wandering off at night and spending almost the entire night down in a small shack that everyone has forgotten about.

  It’s a small, yet soundproof shack with padded walls that was possibly once used as a restraint room. It’s filled with an abundance of instruments, ranging from guitars, drums, keyboards, maracas and a large antique piano.

  Sitting before a large window draped in a wide white cloth, Nickolai sits before a piano. Pulling the cloth from its body and smiling down at it.

  He strokes the keys; he’s been playing it for months now,and no one knows. He’s found a sense of relief, an enchantment found only while playing. Something he thought he’d never find, but he found it in the soft tunes of each key.

  His long fingers trail across the ivory keys, before striking them and illuminating the room with bliss, the sounds enveloping the shack, and bringing a smile no one has ever seen to his face.

  He’s learned how to play through the books in the library that he’s stolen and find himself fixated and fascinated by it. Almost out, every night playing and practising, it isn’t long before he’s managed to play a song, and even sing the lyrics to the exhilarating tune.

  “I fell apart, but got back up again,” he starts, his voice low and soft as he strikes the chords with the words and fills his body with a sense of warmth and happiness he thought he’d never find.

  CHAPTER 8

  This place is all so familiar, still.

  Sitting up on top of a bookcase. he stares out of the window. Like he used to.

  He even remembers the time schedule and working hours. Of course, he only hopes they haven’t changed in the ten years he’s been gone.

  Striking the hour, Nickolai waits impatiently. Starting to think, he’s come too early or even that the person he wants to question is no longer there, his mind floods with questions and spreads with fear that he’ll get caught. Although at the same time, he doesn’t care.

  Stepping into the playgroup zone, while the children are napping. The Guardian scans the floor; A tornado has rushed through - typical with so many children in one area. Toys, clothes, and food everywhere. The room is a complete mess, and she can’t help but let out a drained sigh, dropping her shoulders and wishing she didn’t have this chore at all. But it’s her job, and she has to do it.

  She looks up and almost jumps from her skin, with a squeak as she gasps and smacks her palm over her lips, “Oh my god!” She exclaims, her ice blue eyes wide as she stares at Nickolai up on the bookshelf. Her elf on the shelf.

  It’s not long until tears fill her eyes, and she’s riddled in pure delight to see him, yet hints of fear strike her chest -blurring the lines between happy to see him and afraid for his wellbeing; what if he’s seen with her.

  “Nickolai?” She squeals between her fingertips, hands shaking now as the realization sinks in. She never sees the children she’s raised ever again. This is the first time she’s encountered one of them. The mixed emotions she feels strike her fast and hard.

  Nickolai is quiet, waiting for her to gather herself. His eyes pin on her shocked face; she hasn’t changed at all. Still beautiful and clearly still kind and considerate. Her hair is now curled, and her golden locks glow and jump off her shoulders as she bounces. He tilts his head slightly and smiles before jumping down from the bookshelf.

  “Hey,” he greets her with a low, yet kind tone, straightening himself and standing a few feet before her. “You haven’t aged a bit,” he compliments her, with a small twitch of his right ear, which immediately gets a response from Dana.

  She rapidly gasps in reply at seeing his ear movement. “Oh my goodness, your ears still twitch!” She cries, and
her hands shake with excitement; she can’t hold herself back. She is so thrilled and draped in pure bliss at this sudden reunion. “I-I always wondered if they’d do that once you grew up,” She tells him, running her eyes over him. “You’ve grown into such a handsome man,” she returns the compliment and wraps her arms around him, for a tight embrace. He never knew that he gave the best cuddles. How could he even remember that when his mind has been so drained, tormented, and poisoned?

  She wants to comment and flood him with questions, but she bites her tongue and just stands there, observing him carefully and enjoying his presence. How tall he is! She has to look up at him now and his hair is so vibrant and wild. She can also see the trauma he’s been through – just enough until she tears her eyes from it, and her heart sinks deep into her stomach, and her breath hitches in her throat. It physically hurts to even consider or think of what he’s been through. Her throat becomes dry, and words are trapped on the tip of her tongue.

  Finally, she exhales deeply and bites her bottom lip. She’s still beaming with the delight of seeing Nickolai right there before her. Gathering herself, she takes a second before gently grabbing his hand and moving towards her office – it isn’t safe out here in the open – She doesn’t trust anyone.

  “I’m sorry, if someone saw you…” she apologizes, as she carefully moves some of her hair from the side of her face and hunches her shoulders slightly. Her eyes are drawn to the ground before finally looking up to meet those beautiful and enchanting odd-eyes. She’d forgotten how lost she’d get in them.

  She can’t stop the smile from pressing further across her cheeks; she is so happy and pleased to see him, she can’t even describe it. “I like what you did with your ears,” she compliments them. “I always loved your ears” She adds, in a low tone – she knows how much he hates them.

  “Tell me, what brings you here?” She takes a seat on the desk and lets him do as he pleases. He is still so quiet, and only speaks when spoken to. That hasn’t changed at all, and she is almost glad to see that. This place can’t change everyone.

  “I…well, I wanted to ask you something,” he chews the inside of his cheek before taking a moment to run over the words that flood his mind.

  “You can ask me anything, Nickolai,” she assures him, her tone still saturated in joy. She can’t wrap her mind around it. – bubbling with excitement, she’s never been so happy to see someone for so long. She only wishes this moment would last.

  “Do you remember anything about the night I arrived?” He starts, his face filled with doubt and sorrow, a sense of loss swallowing his features. He wants answers, and he is trying everything he can to find them.

  “N-no, not really.” She hums softly, shaking her head and darting her eyes around the room. She collects her thoughts to that very night, so many years ago, “I mean, you were brought in, handed to me with your name, and that was it,” she slowly looks up to meet his disappointed gaze, and it breaks her heart that she can’t help him at all. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she whispers, truly gutted to see such a shattered expression on his face – almost like the one he exposed when they took him away.

  “Who brought me in?” He asks, his voice darker this time and traced with anger as he searches her for answers.

  “The Governor,” she quickly replies, and she knows she’s said too much already. “You have to go, Nickolai. Please. Don’t tell anyone you came, okay? I’ll keep it a secret.” A surge of tears threatens her eyes. Erratic thoughts and shaking hands; She’s scared, and she’s livid with the reality of their situation. No one can know about this, and she must act fast while breaking her own heart in the process.

  “I’m sorry,” he softly breathes, shaking his head before he nods and agrees with her.

  “No, no it’s not your fault,” She quickly hushes him with her hand gently pressed against his left cheek, brushing some of his long strands of hair away. None of this was his fault. “Thank you so much for coming to see me, you made my life complete,” she tells him, with tears splitting from her eyes. She could say goodbye this time, “Don’t come back, I don’t want you in trouble,” she whispers, as she forces the sobs further down her chest and opens the door. She ushers herself and him out and tries her best to act normal, as if she’d never seen him again.

  “I want Earth to conduct The Gathering mission this month,” The Governor slowly starts, with a derailed expression as she stares out of her window, that overlooked the entire floor of the Compound. On the top floor, of the Main tower building. She stands beside a fireplace, crackling and glowing with radiant flames, saturating the room with warmth.

  She’s not talking to anyone but herself – loudly and almost proudly. Her eyes search the grounds, watching all her soldiers. Gathering around, going from squad to squad. The guards searching and guarding the perimeters. These men and women are all hers. They all breathe for her. She is the reason they sleep and eat. In her mind, she is helping everyone, and in a benevolent manner, she is their Mother and doing everything in her power to take care of them, no questions asked.

  She certainly didn’t raise her boys and girls, but she’s given them a life regardless. Their parents didn’t want them, or they were better off here than in the life outside these walls.

  Technology and science have overrun the world; the world without religion – No wars, no poverty, yet it still decayed and continued to crumble inside. Virtual reality embedded in our children, there was no such thing as climbing trees, and making lemonade outside anymore. Those days are gone, but she's building the old world right here for them.

  In the Compound, they didn’t have the technology that ruled the outside world – they are outdated. Sure, they had computers but the old type; with large bulky small screens and beefy keyboards and a mouse with a ball inside of it. She didn’t let that technology contain them, only she can.

  Of course, she has unruly methods for those who stand in her way or disobey her in any term. It is their doing, their fault regardless. She will teach anyone and everyone a lesson they haven’t learned. If the word “No” is an answer to her demand. She never bats an eyelash to make sure they know not to mess with her. It is why everyone fears her. She likes it this way. The fear in their eyes, the trembling of their words, and the raised shoulders. They are nothing but frightened of her, and rightfully so. She wasn’t in charge because of her natural beauty, not at all.

  There have been so many rumours in her name and no one to confirm them – to shed some light on the reality of the stories. Like myths and urban legends, the tales are told. Whispers in the wind that leave anyone and everyone shaking. Whether they are true or not, no one wants to question it, afraid if they do, they’ll seal the same fate as the others.

  The orange tinge flickers and highlights her features as she stares down at her army. Her mind travels fast, and ideas flood every corner. She has so many things to think of, to plan and negotiate, but she always takes the time to reflect on everything.

  On her own, she likes it best – silent and hiding away in her own chamber. She finds being alone is comforting, and it sets her at ease. She enjoys listening to the voices at the back of her mind. Underlining and highlighting the things she feels are right and consistent. Things no one else would ever understand or care for. These types of whispers or calls are her own, and no one else can see or hear.

  She sits down at her large desk and leans back in her chair, placing her palms out and spreading her fingers wide. Taking a moment, she soaks up her thoughts and closes her eyes. Letting out a heavy exhale through her nose, as her lips sealed shut.

  She can feel the desire to play, to toy with her newfound Star, and she loves the sensation of knowing that no matter what now, no one else will touch him—only her and it brings a wide, insidious, and menacing smile across her face. Proud to have claimed her new Star and eager to dance.

  Curiosity and ambitious feelings are crowding and flooding the girls’ quarter. They are aware of the boys, and they are of the
m.

  Eagerness and interest are running high between them, but they’re sealed off by a very large barrier. At their age and peak – it’s clear, they’re both enthusiastic and riddled with desire – After all, they are all teenagers. Some older than others, and some younger.

  Attractions are starting between the walls, and it comes at a cost/ No one can step over the border. So far, three boys have been shot and killed on sight for attempting to climb over to get in contact with the girls. Emotions and hormones run high - at a cost. It’s a warning to be taken heavily and deeply. No questions, no hesitation. What they don’t realize is that there is a time and a place, they just have to wait.

  Of course, they don’t know. No one knows anything within these walls but the Governor. Her guards and members of The Compound only know enough to keep them on their feet.

  The girls never tried to make it over there. Almost every day they are over there, but while the boys are out or asleep. To gather their laundry and collect their things for patch-ups or anything that was needed. They are the ones, who refilled their shampoo and toiletries. They are the ones, who cleaned the squads before the morning.

  If they are seen, they are silenced, never to speak, or even acknowledge the other. Even if they are nice and kind. They have to keep quiet and to themselves.

  Each night, they change squads and shifts. A different girl every night, never the same twice. So, no attachments or attractions can be made between the two should they speak and create a bond.

  The girls are isolated from the boys. All they have is each other, and that is the deadly part. Women and girls themselves are emotional, and sometimes worse than men and boys. They lash out, attempting to murder each other if a fight escalates. That isn’t anything different from the boys. However, with the boys, they’re trained to be combat ready. The girls? All they know is how to cook and clean. That is it.