Ramello Staten

 

Ramello Staten tapped his pen on the page of his notebook as he listened to Detective Jacobin Castan on the phone.

“Lt. Hall is out of commission,” said the young detective who has helped his uncle in his crusade against the Mark and Marcy criminal organization, “but if he isn’t, he’ll also tell you to stop what you’re doing. They got to you, and they can do—”

“I know that!” Ramello snapped in a raised voice. “Uh, I…I’m sorry, Jacob. I’m just on edge these days. But if Uncle Jerry is awake, I’m sure he won’t let this slide either.”

“He won’t. He also wouldn’t want you to snoop around on your own. You’re putting yourself in danger.”

“We can’t just let them get away with this.”

“Well, they aren’t, okay? Just relax. The BID is on their case. They’re on the ropes now. It’s only a matter of time. They still have plenty of their cronies in the police and in city hall, so we should all be careful. Me and Linette, we’re already doing our own digging around—discreetly, of course. Let’s just wait for LT to wake up.”

“I…you’re right,” Ramello replied, making up his mind not to pay heed to Castan’s words and continue with what he was doing. “Anyway, I’ll visit Uncle later. I just have an appointment now. My foundation is helping clean up Fournier Area. The city still hasn’t sent people to clean the debris from the shockwave of the explosion.”

“You just focus on that. LT will be proud.”

Ramello leaned back in his chair while rereading his notes, as if the new position would provide a different perspective of analysis. He had everything in this little notebook, everything he has uncovered so far in his investigations. The missing security camera footages from the train station the day he was kidnapped and beaten up, the lack of witnesses, the lack of any updates to his case, the police stonewalling him.

He would’ve chucked it all up to bureaucracy if the circumstances weren’t so suspicious.

And all of this seemed connected to the Adumbrae wearing a red hood.

He closed his notebook when he saw a couple enter the café. A woman in a goth getup with several piercings, and a man in a coat and tie but also with amulets hanging from his neck. Two of the people from the SVS video, they were here. He waved at them.

“Are you Ramello Staten?” inquired the woman. She compared him with a picture on her phone. “You seem to be him. My name is Reginus. Not my actual name. I won’t hold it against you if you try to search for my real name. Or maybe you already know if you’re working with the cops.”

“Reginus! Be more open-minded, will you?” said the man. He bowed to Ramello. “Apologies for that, Mr. Staten. It’s hard to trust people nowadays. You can call me Mercator, also not my real name.”

“I know where you’re coming from,” was Ramello’s honest reply. “I understand if you’re suspicious of me. Have a seat.”

Reginus placed a small orb, the size of a ping pong ball, in the middle of the table. It appeared to be made of iron with various symbols roughly carved on its surface. “An All-Seeing Eye,” Reginus explained, which only made Ramello confused. “It will tell me when you’re telling lies.”

Ramello was starting to doubt reaching out to this group, but he forced himself to ignore their peculiar antics. “Sure, go ahead. You can also pat me down if you want.”

“No, no, that’s not necessary,” Mercator said. “We checked your background—I hope you don’t find that offensive—and concluded the police won’t use someone like you to be an undercover agent to spy on our group.”

“You guys concluded that,” Reginus hissed at her partner, closing her fist on the All-Seeing Eye. “I still don’t trust this guy.” She turned to Ramello and whispered furiously, “In your message, you said you have met Red Hood before. But there’s no news about it. Zero! How do you expect me to believe that? I got my meeting on video…on the news.”

Ramello held up his hands. “Calm down and I’ll explain. Meeting Red Hood…I can’t remember much. Wait! Before you react, I’m saying I can’t remember because I was badly beaten up that time.” He pointed to his bandages and also pulled up his shirt to reveal traces of his injuries.

“Are you saying Red Hood beat you up? That can’t be. She’s a good Adumbrae. We shouldn’t have come—”

“Red Hood saved me.”

“What?”

“The criminals the BID was hunting in this city? The cause of the explosion? They’re the ones who beat me up; that was a few days before the explosion happened. And as I lay on the floor barely conscious, Red Hood came to save me. Or perhaps she came to fight them, but she saved me in the process.”

“Huh? Why would they beat you up? And why would Red Hood save you?”

“My uncle, Lt. Jeremiah Hall of the LEPD, he’s investigating these criminals. They obviously hurt me as a warning to him. That’s all I know. I don’t know why Red Hood saved me.”

“Lt. Jeremiah Hall…sounds familiar,” Mercator said. “Isn’t he one of the cops injured during Red Hood’s escape from Serenade Bazaar?”

“You want to catch her and take revenge!” Reginus exclaimed. Luckily, the café was mostly empty. The woman typing on her laptop by the window gave them an annoyed glance. The cashier just continued staring at the TV.

“Reginus, keep it down. Let’s hear what he has to say first.”

“Red Hood saved my life, but also put Lt. Hall in the hospital. I want to meet her and find the truth.”

“The truth?”

“The truth,” Ramello repeated. Then he opened his notebook to tell his story.

 

---

 

Myra Fletcher (Barb)

 

Myra Fletcher gave Erind a sidelong glance while the latter was calling Deen to check if she already went home. Other than her clothes covered in dirt and bloodstains, Erind appeared normal—no difference whatsoever with the Erind she first met at Melchor Hall the day Kelsey disappeared.

“Yeah, the signal is better now,” said Erind on the phone. She paused as Deen responded with something Myra couldn’t hear, to which she replied, “Are you still at Cresthorne? I’m going home now. I’ll just wait for you before ordering dinner.”

Who are you? Myra thought, her eyes narrowed.

“We can have food delivered,” Erind said. “How about pizza? Or burgers?” she laughed, obviously teasing Deen with the fastfood options. “You don’t like those? Why not?” She spoke nonchalantly as if she didn’t destroy her arm less than half an hour ago with absolutely no hesitation.

Myra leaned forward to get a better view of Erind’s right arm resting on her lap. It seemed to have mostly healed, the skin on the arm a healthy pale pink; there was still scarring on the fingers. Erind noticed her stare and grinned, pointing at the phone, assuming that Myra also thought her fastfood joke was funny.

Are you still Erind?

“I can cook dinner too,” she told Deen. “We can buy groceries at that small convenience store, um, I forgot the name. The one a block away from the park? That should be fun.”

Or is this already the Adumbrae controlling you?

The horrifying memory of Erind in a trance-like state, continuously smashing her fist against concrete, was fresh in Myra’s mind. Debris, flesh, blood flying everywhere. Erind not even uttering a sound as her arm slowly got more and more injured with each punch. It reminded her a bit of Bob who didn’t show any reaction to her attacks.

How…how could anyone do that?

And it was only Erind’s first time, yet she wasn’t affected at all by the ordeal. Myra herself needed a couple of hours to zone out after her first session because she was overwhelmed with intentionally inflicting injury on her body.

“I’m on my way home,” Erind said. “Er, I mean your house. It’s my home now too?” More laughter and inside jokes between her and Deen. “I’m going to take the train and maybe ride a taxi from the station. It’s too hot to walk from the bus stop. See you later. Buh-bye.”

“She’s still at univ?”

“Yep. And since we have time, can we pass by the Podium? I just need to buy something quick.” Erind explained her made-up story to Deen about getting new glasses.

“So that was what you guys were talking about an eye exam. Isn’t that going to take awhile? And you’ll wait for the glasses too.”

“I’m just going to buy at the department store.”

“Nonprescription ones? Is that what you’ll buy? I suppose they have those at the Podium. I thought you had prescription glasses.”

“I did use prescription glasses before. But I no longer need them.”

“What do you mean? Like your vision is—oh, I see…”

“Yes, my vision was cured when I became a…you know.” Erind sighed. “One of the small advantages…but I still prefer being a normal human with blurry eyesight.”

Myra gritted her teeth. She hated it when pangs of guilt hit her. “Mom…um, I mean our aunt who took care of us, not my actual mom who I don't call 'Mom', she uses reading glasses because she can’t read fine print anymore.”

“I’ll buy fashion eyeglasses. Reading glasses strains my eyes if I wear them constantly.”

“Ah, okay.” Myra chewed her tongue. How do I keep the conversation going? Unable to think of a good topic that didn’t involve Adumbrae or Corebrings, she just settled with turning on the music to cover the awkward silence.

Am I hastening Erind’s infection?

Myra was starting to see hints of the Adumbrae in Erind. Surely, it was a result of practicing how to attain hysterical strength. It was such an alien concept to the normal human psyche that it could have negative effects on Erind’s mind, making it easier for the Adumbrae to take over her.

But I also want…need…Erind to get stronger.

If this was what it took to get her sister back, then so be it!

Even better if Erind was able to control her Blanchette form. It would be a great asset when they were going to inevitably fight Dario and the secret organization he was working for head-on. How should she go about convincing Erind to practice controlling her powers?

Maybe she could push further and make her transform into the giant wolf mons—

“Myra?”

“Uh, what’s up? We’re near the Podium. Or do you want to go somewhere else to buy your glasses?”

“I was thinking…”

“Hmm?”

“Why do we, I mean you guys, have to break in the hospital and find Julie? There’s no need to wipe her memory, is there? They’ll protect us anyway…they…whoever they are.”

“It did cross my mind,” Myra said. “And I think Dario is doing this to keep up his story that we’re just a ragtag band of vigilantes working with a sole scientist. If we succeed, then less work for them.”

Erind clicked her tongue. “Theatrics, huh?”

“Theatrics. For all we know, Julie has already spilled the beans about you, and the cover up is already underway. But we still have to do this so Dario won’t suspect we know something’s wrong.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“Doesn’t make it any less dangerous. The police or the BID could still kill us if we make a mistake.”

Erind sighed. “Yeah…”

“Let’s focus on shopping for your glasses!” It may look like she was distracting Erind from depressive thoughts, but she was also distracting herself from feeling guilty for…for everything bad that happened to Erind. And she was using her now to boot. I should be nice with her. “Grab that Melchor sweater and tie it around your waist. It should be long enough to cover the blood on your jeans. And I have an extra shirt here that you can wear. It’s going to be weird walking around the store with bloodstains on you.”

 

---

 

Amber Deen

 

Is this Erind?

Amber Deen stopped reading the 2010 issue of Allure she took from under the coffee table of their living room when she heard the sound of an incoming car. She peeked over the magazine, hoping that it was finally her best friend.

Fashion articles from more than a decade ago were mildly entertaining, but she had been sitting here for more than fifteen minutes and it was getting uncomfortably hot. The balding tree beside the wrought-iron bench she sat on provided next to no shade. Her sister’s hoodie that she wore to hide her hair and face—one that Erind hadn’t seen before—was making her sweat like a…she stopped her thought, remembering that Adrian had told her a trivia about pigs being incapable of sweating.

From the edge of Green Meadows, she observed the car climbing the winding road up Poblacion Verde Hills. It wasn’t a taxi. It was a red Rolls Royce Wraith. Erind could’ve used a ride-hailing app like Jaunts, but Deen was certain she wasn’t in this car even if the windows were heavily tinted. Jaunts with a Rolls Royce in their fleet? There was no way. In fact, she recognized this particular car. She had seen the son of one of the committee members of the Homeowners’ Association drive it.

The moment Erind told her over the phone she was coming, Deen decided to stake out the road going to their house. She was curious if Erind was alone or with someone else, perhaps Myra or Johann…or maybe some other people were trying to get close to her, to trick her, to take advantage of her.

And what if those people were Adumbrae?

No one is going to hurt Erind!

That was a promise.

How about Madame Blanchette?

Deen hadn’t thought of her before. She pondered how Madame Blanchette figured into everything, and whether she was going to be friend or foe the next time they met. Did the mysterious Adumbrae have something to do with Erind getting infected? Or was she trying to stop the 2Ms from doing something to Erind?

What if she came to take Erind? Logically speaking, wasn’t her best friend better off with Madame Blanchette since they were both Adumbrae? The latter seemed to be a good person…as good as an Adumbrae could be. And Deen did team up with her in the Eve arena.

Still…Deen wasn’t so sure she was going to give Erind up to anyone.

She was navigating her thoughts about Madame Blanchette when a familiar car came into view. “That’s Myra’s, right?” she mumbled to herself with a raised brow. She had seen that same car parked at the Tulip’s Nook during their lunch meeting, and also at Cindy’s the day before.

Yes, I’m sure it’s Myra’s car.

She tried to get a glimpse of its occupants while keeping the magazine up to cover the lower half of her face. The petite woman riding the passenger’s seat had long black hair. Could be Erind, could be any other woman with black hair—she was too far away to confirm. The driver, however, had striking blue hair.

Definitely Myra.

Deen walked back to her own car parked on the side of the park, opposite of the road to Poblacion Verde. After getting inside, she turned on the air condition, took off the sweatshirt, and stared at a couple of children playing Frisbee with their golden retriever.

So, they’re together.

The barking of the dog snapped her out of her reverie. She texted Erind, “I’m on my way home.”

But she didn’t drive just yet; it was too soon, too suspicious. She watched the people at the park for another five minutes while waiting for her sweat to dry. Then she reapplied her make-up to look like she had just been from school. She also had donned the clothes she wore when she and Erind left the house this morning.

“Time to meet Erind.”

 

---

 

“So classes were cancelled because of that incident?” Erind asked after Deen explained why she went home early—a partially tweaked version of the true events. “I suppose it’s better to just stay home nowadays if we don’t have anything important to do outside.” She was sitting on a couch watching TV. The pedestal fan in the living room was pointed at her wet hair.

She took a shower? But Erind went just to the mall, why would she need to shower? It was such a hassle to dry long hair. Deen didn’t point it out, instead saying, “Don’t forget we do need to go out later. Our mission, remember?”

“I’m just a lookout. It's you guys who will be crawling in the midst of police and BID agents. Be careful later, okay?”

“I have my Guardian Angel with me; it never failed me so far. By the way, how was your eye exam?”

“Nothing much to it.” She tapped the eyeglasses she wore. “I got a rose gold frame. What do you think of it?”

“It looks cute. Can I see it?”

“Um…no…It might make your head hurt if you try it on.”

“I’m not, I’ll just—"

“And I’m a bit iffy with letting other people touch my glasses. I’m not a germaphobe or anything like that; I don’t think your hands are dirty either. Not sure why, but I’m just weirded out with other people touching my glasses. Kinda like with my toothbrush.”

“I get you, I get you,” Deen said, even though she didn’t, laughing so that Erind wouldn’t think she was particularly interested with the glasses. She’d try to find a way to check them later if they were prescription or not. “Anyway, what is that humming sound? The washing machines?”

“Oh! I’m washing my clothes. There was this annoying guy who bumped into me at the mall. Spilled fruit shake down my front. It’s so embarrassing to ride the train with a huge stain on my shirt.”

“Is that why you took a shower?”

“Yeah, it was so sticky.”

Deen blinked. Erind was prepared with all these lies. She’s this committed to hiding her secrets from me? “Maybe I’ll take a shower too. Freshen up before our mission later. And a hot shower will calm my nerves.” She waved goodbye to Erind as she walked to the stairs, but she didn’t go up to the next floor, swerving instead to the laundry room to have a peek at what Erind was washing. I’m sure she won’t mind, she thought, intending to look for clues as to what Erind and Myra were up to.