The Disparate One

Flashes of light appeared throughout the dark clouds as the rain dropped together with the visibility. Old newspapers and other garbage danced around the waves of winds. The squeaking of Oxford’s black shoes splashed on the puddle as he walked up the crooked street that had now turned into a waterslide.

He sniffed under his black raincoat as he tiptoed his way up the peak where he could overlook the building at the bottom of the street. Its smokestacks were covered with thick vines. Its brick walls were flaking paint, slowly being digested by nature.

Oxford used the staircase next to the street like he usually did when he came here. He murmured something under his breath as his body shivered towards the front entrance.

He pushed the wooden door aside before taking off his hoodie, revealing his messy hair. He was inches away from a dried puddle of blood. His shoes scraped against the dusty floor covered with scraps and glass shards from the windows. He shook himself to release more excess water to the unlevelled floor of the lobby. His slight movements echoed through the empty place. Once he felt a little less wet, he walked further into the building, hoping the entire thing wouldn’t collapse on himself.

He got to the main area of the building where machines would’ve been. There were still bolts left on the floor. He moved away from them, anxious he would trip and get his eyes poked. He moved to another area which was supposed to be the loading bay, he passed the parked vehicles. One of which was an ambulance, its windows were taped with cardboards.

He carefully walked down the dim staircase to the bottom where he stood in front of the metal door. He straightened his looks and posture before knocking twice, then paused, then three times, then paused, then one final knock.

The locks of the door clicked in response and swung inches open, enough for Oxford to slide his fingers in between. He did and used his two fingers as pliers to disconnect the tiny wire across it, enough for some ordinary interloper to miss it. Once the wire had been disconnected, that was when he pushed the door wide open, safely.

Standing on the other side, he slammed the door shut, reset the sensors which he secretly asked Ony to produce, and reconnected the wire to the tiny box just a foot away from the metal door frame.

He brought out his phone and turned on its flashlight, tunneling through the dark space. He walked straight for half a minute before arriving at a white rock resting on the floor. He turned to his right and resumed walking straight until he got to another metal door.

He stood in front of it before looking to his left. He sidestepped to that direction by a few steps before tapping on one of the cinder blocks. A secret door opened next to the fake one. He turned off his light when he stepped forward to the place lit by candles and chandeliers, with candles.

He waited for the door to shut behind him before making a stride, avoiding the last perfectly concealed booby trap.

“You’re here early,” a voice spoke from behind one of the bookshelves.

Oxford sighed when he took off his coat, hung it on the coat hanger, and plopped himself on one of the plush armchairs facing the glowing fireplace. He propped his feet on the footrest when he heard footsteps coming towards him.

A man came to his view, Oxford called him Soothsayer; he was holding a thick book when he sat on the other armchair with a grunt.

He wore a completely black suit, blacker than Oxford’s, together with a pair of dark, brown, leather gloves. Same color for his hair and eyes which reflected the flame. He wore a black eye mask that absorbed any levels of brightness. His body was slightly thinner and his skin was a few shades lighter than brown.

Soothsayer placed the book on the small table next to him before plucking a cigarette stick out of thin air. It was already lit as well.

He stuck it in between his lips, puffing, before looking at Oxford who was admiring the dancing blaze.

“Let me guess… another prophecy?” uttered Soothsayer, blowing smoke from his mouth like an exhaust pipe.

“Otherwise I wouldn’t be here,” replied Oxford, resting his head on his hand.

Also, since when did you start smoking Oxford thought.

Soothsayer gently shook his head while showing a smirk. He kept his cigarette in his fingers when he turned back to the fire, sighing.

Oxford and Soothsayer had known each other for years. He couldn’t even count how many times Oxford came here just to ask for guidance. “By guidance” he meant to know what would happen in the future. Soothsayer was always careful when it came to telling him. From each word to describe what he saw, to know when and where to stop. Everything that involved Oxford was always dark. He didn’t know why, he figured he only had bad luck. But this time, it would be his first to tell the opposite.

“If you don’t stop, then you’ll eventually get what you finally desire,” said Soothsayer calmly.

Oxford raised a brow at the other. He didn’t know if he was being serious. What he said and the way he said it felt like he was talking to one of those people behind a crystal ball after paying a dollar or perhaps reading it from a fortune cookie from a cheap Chinese restaurant.

“Is that it?” Oxford showed no expression for the first time.

Soothsayer flicked the cigarette butt into the fireplace before looking back with sad eyes. Another first. Soothsayer wanted to tell more, but he knew the consequences. He was not sad because Oxford would finally get what he wanted, in fact, he was happy about it. The real reason was that he knew this would be their last interaction forever.

“That’s it. That’s all I can say to you,” said Soothsayer, for the last time he thought.

“You’re serious right?” asked Oxford.

Soothsayer huffed, staring motionlessly at the fireplace.

“Whatever your desire is, you’ll get it sooner. In exchange for blood…”

Oxford rolled his eyes and murmured something inaudible. He already knew Soothsayer would say one of his overly-used words: “in exchange for blood”. He wasn’t surprised this prophecy was still thirsty for sacrifice. He bet 50$ that Soothsayer would say “a lot of it”.

“...a lot of it… and betrayal...” added Soothsayer clearly, pausing.

Oxford comically rolled his eyes again, but then he noticed the unnecessary pauses. His head gradually turned to the other when he said:

“And me.”

Oxford immediately questioned the prophecy, which was another first. He wanted to make sure to understand what his friend was trying to say. He couldn’t believe his ears when Soothsayer explained to him that this would be their last interaction, no matter what Oxford would do to change the course. It was destined for their relationship to end here at this very moment.

Soothsayer stood straight in front of Oxford who was blabbering.

“...m-maybe it was just a dream… o-or maybe…. i-it was the cigarette!” Oxford snatched the stick from Soothsayer’s fingers.

“When have I told you something that came out to be false?” Soothsayer questioned, crossing his arms.

Oxford looked down as he handed the cigarette back to Soothsayer who calmly retrieved it. Oxford now understood why he was smoking all of the sudden. He placed both hands on his waist before gazing at the fireplace, the fire that had been burning since they first lit it for this place to be more comfortable years ago.

“Admit it… you only come here for the prophecy… hoping one day I would say something like this,” whispered Soothsayer, walking back to his armchair.

“Yes… it’s true,” replied Oxford, “but I didn’t think it would compromise our relationship,” he added, standing straight.

“This is where my gratitude ends, Oxford. There’s nothing we can do about it,” Soothsayer said nonchalantly.

Oxford inhaled deeply to clear his mind. He let the moment sink in, swallowing hard. He trusted Soothsayer like Chap.

“I also came here to ask you about something, from the last prophecy you said,” Oxford walked back to the fireplace but didn’t take a seat.

“The management assigned a new test subject to my team…”, he paused and waited for the moment of silence to pass, his mind suddenly wandered to Ray’s white irides, “He has white irides…”

Soothsayer glanced at him with a somewhat interesting look.

“Is he the one? Is he the one you kept mentioning that someone would come to do something ’horrifyingly great’?” Oxford asked with a steady voice.

Soothsayer returned his gaze to the fire, picking up his book after throwing the second cigarette butt away.

“I can’t tell who it might be, I can only tell-”

“What that person would do and what that person’s actions would lead to…” Oxford interrupted. Another 50$.

He put his hoodie back on before stepping back out into the harsh weather. His feet became numb from the puddles towards the staircase alongside the street. Placing his hand on the slippery railing, he looked back at the eroding structure. He recalled those moments when he had to carry Soothsayer down this path and into the building because he was weak and bleeding.

“It is my only gratitude,” Soothsayer whispered when Oxford laid him on the floor near the front doors, causing his blood to form a puddle.

Oxford smashed the first aid box he snagged from the ambulance they used to drive away from the urban sprawl. He hurriedly grabbed the bandage, but before he could use them, he brought out a tiny device he borrowed from the facility.

Soothsayer breathed calmly despite losing too much blood in a short amount of time. While on the floor, he watched Oxford treat his wound. At the time, Oxford had black hair and sharp facial features.

“W-why?” Soothsayer asked with a grunt, keeping his eye mask in place.

Oxford placed a thick layer of bandage over the healing wound before looking at him.

“It is the right thing to do,” said Oxford as rain showered over him.