Chapter 3

In the Lower East Side of New York, there were plenty of peaceful and quiet streets. It was late at night with the full moon illuminating whatever the street lights couldn't touch. The pale, calming blue and white light of the moon mixed with the harsher yet still relaxing orange light beaming down from the artificial bulbs. Nearly all of the buildings lining the streets were made of red brick, which sat faded and dull after decades of being built but not well maintained. Inside one of the buildings, the shadowy figure stood in front of a wooden door, struggling to get the key lined up with the keyhole. He tried to push it into the thin slot, but missed. His suit was soaking wet, covered in liquid of unknown origin as well as blood from the team of criminals. The figure sighed before lowering the key and punching the door, sending it flying off of the hinges. They walked inside the small apartment, grabbed the door, and leaned it against the doorway so that it mostly lined up. They reached over and flicked a light switch, filling the small studio apartment with a single faint light. The apartment only housed a couch that was held together by duct tape, a small circle table holding a potted flower, and a small television sitting on top of a wooden box. The . The figure made their way along the dirty and broken hardwood flooring.

They continued walking until they turned and stepped into the small bathroom, holding an old bathtub that sat on the floor without any curtains. The toilet was incredibly clean, near reflective white surface all over. The counter was small and only held a single toothbrush and bottle of toothpaste. They slowly began to peel off the all black uniform. The material was thin and stretchable like spandex, but tough like rubber. The body revealed was that of an adult man, late twenties at least. His body was covered nearly head to toe in scars. Once the clothing was off his body, he threw it all into the bathtub before turning the faucet on, filling it with water and soaking the clothing. He moved to stare at himself in the mirror.

His eyes were bright green, staring into the reflection of himself with a look of sleep deprivation. Dark bags under his eyes, wrinkles all over his young face, and gray roots of his dark black hair.

“I really don’t want to go over this again.”

His voice was smooth and clean, middle register. It wasn’t too deet, but not very high either.

The man was gripping the counter tightly as he stared into the mirror. His reflection was leaning forward as well, but their elbows were on the counter, hands right onto the chin holding their head up while a massive smile covered their face.

“Oh come on. I love having conversations like this.” The reflection said. Instead of the bright green, their eyes were a deep and dark shade of red.

“I said no killing.”

“I left the last one alive.” The reflection responded with a shrug before standing up and turning to sit on the counter, putting his feet on the counter and continuing to smile.

“You ripped his fucking eye out.” The real world body said.

The reflection rolled his eyes.

“What’s funny is he won’t be able to do that again.” The reflection laughed.

“Polymon, this is serious.” He said.

The reflection groaned and leaned forward, closer to the mirror.

“Sim, I think we can both agree that you had fun.” The reflection replied.

“I would disagree with that statement.” Sim said. He stared at his reflection continuing to move on its own.

“Do I need to explain how this works to you again?” Polymon asked.

“No matter what I say, you’re going to.” Sim rubbed his eyes. His body began to go weak as he nearly collapsed. Polymon kept watching in the reflection as Sim reached up, his entire arm shaking from years and years of built up pain. He opened the window to reveal a medicine cabinet that was overflowing with bottles and bags of painkillers. Multiple bottles spilled out onto the cabinet and into the sink as he collected however many he could, throwing two entire bottles of pills into his mouth before turning on the sink water, cupping his hands and swallowing handful after handful. He coughed violently, spitting out water as the mirror closed back on its own. Polymon was still smiling and looking at Sim.

“You should really find a better way to ease your pain mate.” Polymon replied.

Sim gave him a dirty look as he lifted his head back up.

“No.” Sim rubbed his face aggressively, waiting for all of the pills to start working on his body.

“The medicine is getting expensive. You gonna be able to afford it?” Polymon asked him.

Sim coughed again before wiping his mouth.

“Any plans for the night?” Polymon asked.

Sim looked confused before stepping out of the bathroom, looking out the window at the night sky.

“What time is it?” Sim asked.

“I’m not sure. I can’t exactly see any clocks in here.”

Despite leaving the room, Polymon was still in the mirror, looking around the bathroom.

“God damn this place is filthy.” He said to himself.

Sim walked back in as the bathtub was about to overflow, quickly turning the faucet off.

“All that blood and sewage…will be a pain to get out.”

Sim grunted and stared into the water, which began to change color from the liquids washing out of the clothing.

“Pretty ain’t it?” Polymon asked.

“Stop being weird.”

Sim got back up and made his way back to the kitchen. Polymon slowly faded from the mirror, leaving it a reflection of the empty room and nothing more.

“What are you making?”

Polymon was now inside of Sim’s head, Sim the only person able to hear it. He began to make coffee using his machine, the only appliance he owned. He opened a bag of already crushed up coffee grounds before pouring them into a filter.

“You’re seriously going to ignore me?” Polymon asked again.

Sim continued to pour grounds, hoping to make the coffee stronger. He placed the filter inside the machine before filling a glass pitcher with water from the sink. Once it was all ready to go, he pressed the button and leaned back against the counter.

“Pot of coffee at three in the morning? The heck is wrong with you?” Polymon asked in his head. Sim immediately jumped and looked outside. Nothing in his apartment was able to tell the time. Sim ran over and turned on his television, which opened up to the news. He looked in the corner to see the time and weather outside.

“You need to cut it out with the time manipulation bullshit.” Sim said to himself, turning up the volume so he could hear it from the kitchen.

“Stop zoning out, it's not my fault.” Polymon replied.

Sim sighed and stared at the pot of coffee very slowly dripping down, a drop every few seconds.

“You should get a new coffee maker.” Polymon said.

“Can you please just shut up. I don’t need you to commentate on every minor thing.” Sim said, all of his annoyance coming out at once.

“Alright…fine.”

Once Polymon finished speaking, it felt like all the sound around Sim went away. Everything was deathly silent. Sim stood with his arms crossed, staring at the coffee maker as drop by drop fell.

Sim opened his mouth and tried to speak, but the sound never even left his chest. He rolled his eyes as he walked over to the bathroom, no sound coming from anything.

Polymon was filing his nails in the mirror, looking down as Sim made his way inside. Sim waved his hands around, but Polymon kept filing his nails. Sim was visibly getting very upset when he suddenly punched his mirror hard, sending some shards flying out and crashing to the counter while the majority of it sat in place with a large circle with cracks shooting out in every direction.

Every section of the broken mirror alternated between reflections of Polymon or Sim, but the ones containing Sim seemed to be all independent and unique.

“You don’t have any money for a new mirror. Dumbass.” Polymon said.

Sim gritted his teeth and clutched his bleeding hair. Sim quickly opened the mirror, grabbing hold of broken pieces and slicing up more of his flesh. He downed an entire bottle of painkillers within a few seconds before cupping his hands and drinking the mixture of water and blood. Once he swallowed them, he grabbed the roll of toilet paper and wrapped most of it around his bleeding hand.

“I have to get some rest. Will you please just leave me alone while I’m sleeping?” Sim asked.

“Maybe.” Polymon replied.

Sim sighed and looked back at the full bathtub, the black costume barely visible through the murky and dirty water.

Sim made his way over to the kitchen once again. The coffee pot was about halfway full as he gripped the handle, lifting the pot up before pouring the steaming coffee down his throat. He put the pot back and went over to the couch, laying down and watching the news on television until his eyelids became heavier than the building he was inside, shutting and quickly falling asleep. His body was filled with soreness and pain, the feeling of everything shutting down making it impossible for him to even think about staying awake.

A young boy was sitting inside a booth of a small diner. The tile floors were black and white leading to bright red and silver counters and tables. The walls were entirely covered by black and white pictures of celebrities sitting in the booths or posing with the servers. The young boy read over the menu while his short legs were moving back and forth, too short to be touching the ground.

“Hey Simon, good to see you again.”

A young and beautiful blonde woman made her way over. She was dressed in a button up white shirt with a black bow tie and black dress pants. Her hair was pulled back and her lips were bright red with lipstick. The young Simon smiled and looked up from the menu.

“Hi Julia. I’ll have the usual.” He said with a big and light smile.

“Sounds good. Is your Dad on his way here?” She asked.

“He should be here soon. I guess you could go ahead and make his coffee.” Simon said.

“Alright, will do.” She replied with a big smile.

After she walked away, a middle aged man walked through the entrance, wearing a large brown leather jacket and walking over to sit across from Simon. He had a thick dark brown beard and quite messy brown hair. He removed dark sunglasses and had a very warm and inviting smile at Simon. Simon lit up and smiled brightly.

“Hi Dad. How was service?” He asked.

“It went well. Not as any people as last week, but what can you do?” He shrugged as Julia brought over the mug of coffee. He smirked and lifted it up.

“Thank you Julia.” He took a sip of the hot coffee.

“Simon’s food is already being worked on. What would you like?” She asked him.

“I’ll just have an omlet please.” He said once again with his warm smile.

After Julia walked away, he removed his jacket, revealing strange symbols written on his arm. They were tattoos of strange looking runes.

“How has school been?” He asked Simon.

“It’s been…well…”

Simon looked nervous.

“Principal’s office again?” He asked.

Simon subtly nodded. Instead of getting angry, his Father just chuckled.

“History class again?” He asked.

“Everything they teach his just…” Sim sighed.

“I’ve told you before, just sit and listen. Once you’re older, you can make up your own mind.”

“But how is history something that changes? Like shouldn’t there just be one history and that’s it?” Simon asked.

“Sim, buddy, the world and people are complicated. Just do me a favor and go along with it.” He said, trying to stay warm and happy.

“I know Dad. I’ll try harder.” Sim pouted his lips.

“How are your other classes going?” His Father asked.

“Science is another class that annoys me. But the service trips are pretty fun.” Simon replied.

“Helping the homeless?” His Father asked.

“That’s part of it. But mom doesn’t let everybody in which is sad.”

Simon’s Father sighed and reached out to take his Son’s hand.

“Don’t let that get to you. She has her ways, and even though I don’t agree with them, it’s how she wants to run things.” He replied.

A plate holding a large omelet was placed in front of Sim’s Dad while a big stack of chocolate chip pancakes covered in whip cream and chocolate syrup were placed in front of the young boy.

“Hope you two enjoy.”

Sim’s Father laughed as Sim’s entire face lit up with excitement. Sim buried his face into them, getting chocolate and cream all over his face.

“You really are a funny boy.” Sim’s Father said.

Julia looked at Sim’s Father, noticing the tattoos on his arm.

“I’ve never noticed those before. Are they new?”

Sim’s Father looked at her confused before looking down at his arm. He quickly hid it underneath the table.

“It’s nothing. Just some art.” He smirked and turned to eat the omelet with one fork and hand. Sim lifted his chocolate and whip cream covered face, looking confused at his Dad.

“But…”

Sim’s Dad shot him a very serious look, making Sim stop right in his tracks.

“We can discuss it another time. I’m still tired from today.” He replied.Julia had a worried face as she walked away, going behind the counter and talking to other people sitting on stools nailed down to the ground.

“Is everything okay Dad?” Sim asked quietly.

“Yeah buddy…just adult stuff. I’ll tell you about it when you’re older.”

“Oh…okay.”

Sim opened his eyes. He was laying face down on the ground of his apartment, groaning in pain as he tried to push himself up, but his arms and back were incredibly weak.

“Hey Sim…we gotta go.” Polymon sounded afraid and panicked in his voice.

“What, why?” Sim asked weakly.

“There’s a big problem.”

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***