I spent the duration of the night mulling over where my life would go from here, getting little to no sleep as a result. I thought of all the mistakes I made over the past few days, the errors I’ve enacted, and how I would inevitably screw things up in the not too distant future. Would I end up harming those I love? Would I even get to be with them? Would I spend eternity in a laboratory as scientists probe, poke, pry, and puncture my body, hoping to uncover what gives me eternal youth and life? If that is my future… would I rather exist in a reality where Abigale Quinlan returned to her own body, and I returned to mine as it died?
I felt misguided, hopeless, and scared. I was desperate for some form of comfort. A shoulder to cry on. A person to hug while they patted my back. But those things were days away, and I would need to tell them— my friends, my mother, my friends’ parents— I would need to tell all of them about Peatrice and my immortality. I don’t know if they would even believe such a ludicrous story. I guess I will need to show them my powers first hand. To illustrate to them that Jad Novus lives on, but in the form of something inhuman.
I could almost hear the ghost of Peatrice echoing throughout my ear.
‘Yadda, yadda, woe is fucking me. Lookie here shitbird, I get that you ain’t so keen on being a sexy demigod, but at least do something about it instead of sitting on your ass holding a pity party. Explore your body, go on the internet, write some dumb bullshit to distract your stupid ass! Do fucking anything, you little oversized bitch.’
Still, I did nothing of value all night. I simply laid in my bed until the sun began to creak in through my windows, and even that was not enough of a call for me to get up. I had no one around me, nowhere to go, and nothing to do. It was an imposing feeling of depression, far greater than anything I felt previously in my life. And I only had reason to escape its cold yet comforting embrace once I heard a noise faintly echo throughout my house. It was that of a door opening. The front door. It was followed by the pitter-patter of footsteps. I then rose from my bed at 9:26, Monday, December 22nd.
I bolted out of bed, shocked that someone— someone with a key to this house no less— would come over. It was possible that my mother and friends managed to get here within a matter of eleven hours, but I had my doubts. Even if they did, wouldn’t they call me before arriving and let me know I would not be alone for long? I ruled out the option because of this and chose to investigate who this could be.
I crept out of my room, carefully avoiding any squeaky floorboards as I made my way from my second-floor bedroom to the stairs. From above, I spied a long coat hanging near the front door and a pair of boots. I had no idea who they belonged to. With a new level of caution, I walked down the stairs, slowly making my way to the front door, when I saw a woman walking through my kitchen.
“What the—?” The woman stammered, surprised to see me.
I stopped in my tracks as I looked at her, immediately recognizing her as my English teacher for the past four years, Raiyne Underwood. An intelligent woman and a quality teacher who helped develop my writing abilities and understanding of the English language more than any other person I ever met.
She was 34, the same age as my mother, a fairly tall woman at 1.83 meters, weighed about 65 kilograms, most of which was muscle, and was of Caribbean, German, and Puerto Rican descent. Her dark hair was draped over her shoulders, as opposed to in her usual bun, and her typically professional wardrobe was replaced with an olive-colored sweater and some jeans.
Her attire was far different but she also… looked different too. Raiyne was an attractive and assertive woman. One who could cull a rowdy bunch of students within seconds, but was also personable and understanding, eager to help any students learn the material and improve their English skills. Yet, as I looked at her from across the hall, I did not see the strength she normally exuded. I only saw fear.
After mumbling out a sad little hello to her, Raiyne’s striking blue eyes shot wide open, and her usually strong composure crumbled into nothingness. Since I was blocking the way to the front door, she fled out the back, dashing out into the cold, leaving behind her boots and coat. I chased after her, pleading with her to stop running, a request that fell on deaf ears.
Due to my speed, and the fact that the walkway from the backdoor was unshoveled and covered in snow, I was able to grab onto Raiyne’ wrist after only a few seconds. She resisted me, but my body’s natural strength was enough to overwhelm her and bring her to the snow-covered ground. Both discouraged and horrified, she let out a girlish shout, sounding louder and higher-pitched than she ever did in the years I’ve known her. She whimpered and panted as I latched onto her arm, mumbling pleas of mercy as she quivered in the snow.
“Raiyne, please, what are you doing?” I asked, genuinely worried about her well-being.
“I… I don’t… you…” Raiyne stammered in terror.
“Raiyne, please, come back inside. I– I don’t know why you’re so scared, but I won’t hurt you. I promise.” I told Raiyne as gingerly as I could, letting go of her arm.
“But you… Abigale Quinlan…” Raiyne quivered.
“Wait… Abigale Quinlan? How— How do you know that name?” I asked Raiyne, taking a step back, planting my bare feet into more snow.
“What… What do you want? What the fuck do you want from me!?” Raiyne shouted at me with fear in her throat, her clothes coated in snow.
“I— I just want to talk, okay? That’s all,” I said to Raiyne.
“…Who are you?” Raiyne asked, recapturing her authoritative tone.
“I’m… I am Jad Novus.” I said with as much honesty and clarity as I could.
Raiyne did not say anything in response. Instead, she just stood there in the snow, mulling over my words. She rubbed her face, pontificating if she should believe me.
“I thought something was wrong there,” Raiyne said, her composure restored. “…I have known you for years, Jad, and I knew you couldn’t do something like that. Killing all of those people. You also lacked the skills, the confidence, the drive to do… anything like that. Then there was that sinister cackle, the glance they gave me, calling me ‘Sapphire.’ …I had my suspicions, but I had too much on my mind over the past few days to put two and two together.”
“Raiyne, are you… do you want to go back inside? It is pretty cold out here.” I asked for Raiyne’s sake, as I was only slightly cold from my bare, snow-covered feet.
“Yes. I would like that,” Raiyne replied, her voice somber yet distant.
Once we made our way inside, I brought Raiyne into the living room, gave her a blanket, and offered to start some tea for her. Raiyne didn’t answer. She just looked irritated and depressed. I left the room to prepare the tea regardless, as I did not want to see her in such a vulnerable position.
I do and did think very highly of Raiyne Underwood as a person. She is an excellent teacher, a great writer, and she… saved my mother from an abusive relationship.
My mother was miserable with my father for the past decade. She would have never divorced him without the help, guidance, and support of Raiyne, a childhood friend of hers who she reconnected with after 13 years. Without Raiyne, I fear what would have happened to my mother, what level of sorrow she would be in if she didn’t divorce my father nearly two years ago. Or in other words, Raiyne effectively saved my mother’s life. At least that’s how I choose to view it.
Following a few silent minutes, I returned to the living room to see Raiyne, still draped in the blankets. I handed her a cup of tea, and she offered me a very simple and apathetic “thank you” in return. I sat on the sofa across from her as she began to sip her warm drink.
“So, um, I guess I have a lot of explaining to do, don’t I?” I said, nervously fidgeting in my seat.
“Certainly. But first, I must apologize for my actions. I was undignified, and… No, I was justified in my actions but… I should be stronger than this… My apologies, I’m simply unnerved by a lot of things at the moment. Please, explain how you came to be like this… Jad.”
From there, I more or less offered the same explanation I gave my friends. A summary that omitted the immorality, the mention of the mysterious drug responsible for all of this, and the very existence of Peatrice. However, Raiyne could tell that something was missing from my story.
“So, have you noticed anything abnormal about your body?” Raiyne asked me, still clenching her tea mug despite it being bone dry.
“You know Abigale Quinlan, so I guess you would know about the…” I began, not wanting to finish that thought.
“The immortality? Yes. Abigale Quinlan could be set ablaze and still fight. There is not a single force in this world that could ever seem to bring her down, let alone inflict a wound that she would not recover from within 10 seconds.” Raiyne solemnly explained.
“So, you know quite a bit about her then… Do you know how old she is?”
“She has been around a long time. A very, very long time. I don’t know if I can tell you any more than that. I shouldn’t have so much as uttered her very name.” Raiyne said, verbally pontificating once more.
“Well, do you know about… Peatrice?” I asked, unsure of where to go with this conversation.
“‘Peet-rice?’ I had a student named Peatrice in the past, but no, I have never heard of a ‘Peet-rice’ in the context of Abigale Quinlan.” Raiyne explained, curiosity ringing through her voice.
“Well, they, um, they are… an artificial intelligence. An AI… that lived in my head, in Abigale Quinlan’s head, where they mentally spoke to her, and later me,” I said, hoping that my description would suffice.
“Hm… Abigale Quinlan always was unorthodox in her behavior, but she never led anyone to believe that such a thing exists. …Wait, is it recording our conversation right now?” Raiyne asked, jumping out of her seat.
“No, no, I… I got rid of him,” I said, trying to be careful with my words.
“You got rid of him?” Raiyne repeated at me, sitting back down.
“You see, Peatrice was a computer chip, ingrained in Abigale Quinlan’s brain that I… I removed the chip from my head. I, um, broke my skull open in order to pull it out,” I confessed, curling up into a ball to comfort myself.
“…Why would you do that? Did you save the chip?” Raiyne asked.
“Peatrice was insufferable, annoying, obnoxious, and just witty enough to drive me insane,” I explained, looking away from Raiyne. “I was scared, confused, and had nobody but this voice in the back of my head. One who would constantly bark orders at me and make jokes at my expense. I was vulnerable, and he took advantage of that. I reached my limit when he… commented about how I wasted my time trying to find my friends, saying that no matter what I did, I would never be able to resume my life. That I should have left everything behind and embrace who I now was. That my life was done and over; that I should become Abigale Quinlan. I couldn’t take it, and I… I killed him because of that.”
“I was hesitant at first, but you really aren’t Abigale Quinlan, are you?” Raiyne told me, still sitting on the couch.
“So, you didn’t believe me?” I inquired, bitter to an extreme.
“No, it’s more that… As you can tell by now, I have a history with Abigale Quinlan, and I know she is something of a wild card. However, I also know how much it disgusts her to behave like a human being, and show more emotions than bliss, lust, and rage. I know that you are Jad Novus. Even though you no longer look like it.”
Raiyne then stood up from the couch and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“About that— and you pretty much set yourself up for this question— how exactly do you know about Abigale Quinlan?”
As I asked my question, Raiyne looked into the distance and let out a long sigh.
“It is a long story, and I already said too much. …I am sorry Jad, but I need to take you into the proper authorities.”
“Wait, what?!” I shouted.
I jumped out of the share, taking a few steps away from her before stopping myself. She looked at me with a pitiful gaze before she began an explanation.
“Jad, I know this may sound cruel, but you are dangerous, and I cannot leave you alone like this. I will do everything in my power to make your stay as short as possible, and if somebody else catches you, things will be far, far worse. So, I implore you, Jad, please trust me on this.”
Raiyne took a step toward me, grabbing my hand and lacing her cold fingers through it.
“Okay Raiyne, I trust you,” I mumbled, my imposing voice laced with uncertainty. “If you think this is for the best, I’ll do whatever you want. You seem to have a better idea about what’s going on than I do.”
“Thank you, Jad. I need to make some calls, it will probably be a few hours until we are ready to leave.”
With that, Raiyne walked out of the living room and to the downstairs restroom, pulling her cell phone out of her large pants pocket. I questioned her choice of room until I realized these were private matters. …Private matters regarding me.
Normally, a situation like this would breed further uncertainty, but my doubts were easily overshadowed by the trust I had for the woman and the fact that she clearly had some idea what I was talking about. I was obviously nervous, but when haven’t I been over the past few days? If anything, this is what I wanted. Somebody believed me and… was helping me.
However, it would take her quite some time to finish making her calls, giving me three hours of downtime. Three hours that I spent ignoring my email and blazing through my RSS feed, devoid of a single mention of the name Jad Novus, or Oransen in general. After adjusting my chair, monitor, and headphones, I actually started to forget about my current body. It was actually pretty nice… Yet all it took was a misplaced tuft of hair or an arm brushing against my breasts to remind me of my body.
Remind me that I was still in the body of an immortal woman by the name of Abigale Quinlan.
