“Home sweet home,” I sang as I strode across the condominium lobby.
“You’re awfully happy,” Deen said. “Didn’t you enjoy your stay at my place?”
“I did, I super did,” I truthfully said. It was awesome at her house. “But I also adore familiarity.” And being alone.
I hated change. Hell, I couldn’t even change how my mind worked even if I wanted to. Familiarity quelled my urge to bother people; it pacified me to an extent. The squeaky marble tiles of the condominium lobby, the potted mini palm trees that I wasn’t sure were real. The vending machine where I bought a bottle of milk tea each time I was bored and wanted a quick sugar rush. The ATM that needed a ritual before coughing up your money. Familiar faces were here too. The guard who greeted us as we entered, the friendly janitor mopping a spill on the floor, the nice lady at the counter.
Just kidding. I could barely recall any of these people even though I often saw them. I couldn’t pick them out of a police line-up if you held a gun to my head.
I also didn’t know any of the other people living in the building.
Not a single soul.
They knew me, for sure. Many people greeted me inside the elevators, along hallways, stairs. I just put on a friendly neighbor's face and replied ‘hello’, ‘have a nice day’, ‘nice weather’, and I never committed their faces or names to mind. Why would I? I don’t care if everyone in this building died the next day. More importantly, it was too much work to create a full-fledged face for each of the fuckers here—a normal disinterested neighbor persona was enough.
Deen and I entered the elevator. “Are you sure it’s fine that you carried my bag with the law books and stacks of printouts?” I asked her. “I should’ve used a stroller for all of that.”
“I’m fine,” she replied. “Is it because I’m a woman that I can’t carry heavy baggage?”
“Deen,” I said rolling my eyes at her, “there’s a difference between an empowered woman and a woman with powers. One of those could get you arrested by the BID. I needed like two trips to bring my law stuff inside your house, and you’re carrying my bike too.”
She shrugged. “No one knows what’s inside these bags anyway.”
“Does it feel good?”
“Huh? What’s with that out-of-the-blue question?”
“The power. Having super strength. Every injury healing quickly. Just curious.”
“Yes, it feels great,” she simply said, her tone indicating she didn’t want to explain further.
We didn’t talk about anything else because people entered and exited the elevator as it climbed to the 22nd floor where my room was. A couple greeted me, and I expectedly had no idea who they were. Still, I politely greeted them back.
There was this one woman though who I was ninety-nine percent sure I hadn’t met before. She stepped into the elevator wearing high-heeled, knee-high black boots, a leather skirt, and a leather jacket over a crop top. She was middlingly good-looking, with…um…unconventional makeup. Like, girl, what’s up with the orange eye shadow and exaggerated cat-eye eyeliner that looked like it was drawn with a black marker? I knew she was a resident because she was able to press the button for her floor after scanning her room key card.
She stared condescendingly at Deen for the entire ride up, perhaps threatened by her beauty, until we alighted first upon reaching my floor. I could feel daggers in my back as we exited the elevator. While I couldn’t remember the faces of people I didn’t care about, I was certain I'd remember someone as weird as her. She probably moved in when I was staying at Deen’s.
“Weirdo,” I said.
“Yeah, what’s her problem?” Deen said.
“Lots of interesting people you’ll meet living in a condo.”
“Maybe I’ll try that. But my sister hates living in a place with many people, that’s why we rented a whole house at Verde Hills. And she wouldn’t allow me to live on my own because she’s afraid I might bring guys over.”
“We’re in our twenties,” I said. “Why would she care who you bonked? Or the venue of said hypothetical bonking? Most of the time she’s not at your house.”
“Is that your word for sex? Bonk?”
“Bonk, bonk, bonk.”
“Please don’t do that.”
"What word do you want me to use? Plow?" I grinned at her frowning face. “Wait, is your sister staying at her boyfriend’s flat because I’m at your house? Is she avoiding me? I didn't mean to inconvenience her.”
“She’s like that even before you came, don’t worry about it. She’s a ghost haunting the place. Sometimes there, sometimes not.”
When we entered my unit, I inhaled deeply, taking in the stale air of a room that hadn’t been opened for a couple of weeks.
I loved it!
Finally, some peace and rest. It wasn’t that I hated staying at Deen’s place. It was just that I had to keep up my face for an ungodly amount of time.
“Thank you for everything, Deen,” I said. “Here, I’ll even initiate the hug as a sign of my gratitude.” I spread my arms and wrapped them around the middle of her body, pulling her to me, laying my head on her chest. My hand felt her back until I found her spine. It would be so easy to rip her spine out—Erase! Erase those thoughts or the Guardian Angel might say something to her.
“Wouldn’t you burn like a vampire under the sun if you hugged me first?” she said, hugging me back tightly.
After several seconds, I said, “I think that’s enough hugging for now. That’ll last us for a while.”
“Don’t forget to always check your messages,” Deen said. She continued with her reminders and stuff for several minutes until I told her she was acting like a mother again. “Whatever. I guess this is goodbye, Erind.”
“Why the sad face coupled with a forlorn farewell?” I said. “We’ll see each other again tomorrow.”
"I don't know. I'm already starting to miss you."
Once Deen left, I turned on the TV to catch the evening news and sat on the couch to order pizza. It had been so frickin’ long since I last ate pizza! I didn’t want to eat one with Deen because she might judge the way I ate it. It was fine with a toast to eat the crust first, but I'd get odd stares if I ate the pizza crust first.
“Oh, a text from Mom,” I said as I opened my phone. I literally forgot about my own mother because of the excitement of the past few days. I should’ve texted her I was safe the moment the signal block was lifted like the dutiful and responsible daughter I should be. Why did she only contact me now? The shit the city was going through should be carried by international news too.
As if answering my question, Mom explained she was busy with some convention in Switzerland and didn’t know what was going on in the US until today. Understandable, most of the international news would be focused on the Madagascar crisis. She also said she was going to visit me next month.
“Don’t worry, Mom. Still alive and kicking,” I texted her. “I’m safe here. Just tell me when you’re not busy so I can call you.”
Now what flavor to order? I listened to the news with one ear while browsing the menu of my favorite pizza place. It was just a couple of blocks away from here and I could’ve ordered earlier on the way, but I didn’t want Deen to judge me if I got a whole 12-inch pizza all for myself. I decided to get a four-in-one to save time on thinking what flavor to choose. I looked up from my phone when the news about the snake mutant at Serenade Bazaar came up.
The reporter interviewed a city official outside Serenade Bazaar. Heavily armed police officers, as well as a few in ComExos, established a perimeter while people in hazmat suits went in and out of the building. The reporter and the official referred to the mutant as an SBM Adumbrae even though it wasn’t. Outwardly, there was no actual difference between my snake mutant buddy and a low-level Adumbrae, the ones categorized as Spontaneous Breach Manifestations.
SBMs, they were the most common Adumbrae manifestation, an infected person that spontaneously transformed at an early stage before the Adumbrae could make any progress transferring itself down to our dimension. Just your average mindless monster.
Most people thought these were weak-willed individuals who couldn't handle the onset of the mental invasion and broke down, resulting in a premature mutation. As a result, there was a certain...view...about these individuals that also affected their families. I recalled this fact because my father lectured me on this when I made a supposedly 'insensitive' off-hand comment about something I saw on TV. I was a kid back then, who could blame me? I was an adult now so I knew when to shut up about my thoughts.
The city official explained this was a Level 2 SBM. SBMs were classified in five levels if I recalled correctly, depending on their strength, destructive capabilities, and how difficult they were to kill.
The news switched to an expert in the studio to explain more about SBMs. He said, “Neither the Adumbrae nor the individual is in control. Effectively, the Adumbrae has abandoned the individual. The negative well left by the collapse of the Eloyce Field of the individual is not sufficient to house the Adumbrae.”
Science mumbo jumbo, but I got the gist of it. “Didn’t Rofirio say the mutants also didn’t have Adumbrae inside them?” I muttered as I chose pepperoni, four cheese, burger, and barbeque chicken as the flavors for my pizza. I was going to pig out tonight. “Were mutants like a level below the SBMs?” I wondered out loud. In a way, the mutants were knock-off brand Adumbrae. The 2Ms wouldn’t want to make actual Adumbrae for harvesting purposes; that was too dangerous.
“SBMs are often said to be akin to wild animals,” the expert on TV continued, “but that is not an accurate representation. Devoid of the consciousness of the individual and lacking control from the Adumbrae, the SBM will be fueled by the remnants of the negative well of the individual. Thus, while some researchers are of the opinion it retains some memories of its former self, its primary objective will be to indiscriminately kill and destroy, as we’ve seen tragically happen today.”
I checked other channels. They were all covering the incident, they only talked about one Adumbrae. What the hell? Why was there nothing about me?
Come on, show something about me!
Another channel said that the BID was tracking the people who were inside Serenade Bazaar at that time. Good thing I transformed before entering. Although, they were expectedly having a hard time identifying the people just based on the security cam footage alone.
“If you have video recordings or pictures of the incident,” an advisory flashed, “don’t hesitate to contact the BID hotline on your screens.”
I snorted. No one was dumb enough to do that. If you contacted the BID to volunteer footage, that would be admitting you were there. And then you’d also be tested and placed on a watch list just in case you might be infected with something. That meant months of follow-up tests. Such a hassle.
Well, there were people dumb enough to do that.
For example, the people who posted the videos they recorded online.
My phone vibrated. Was it Mom? Or perhaps it was Deen being paranoid again?
I snorted as I saw the name. Yep, it was just nagging Deen. She messaged me using that stupid Snippet app she forced me to download. I told her I was fine and that I was going to sleep because I was tired so she wouldn’t bother me for the rest of the night.
A couple of minutes passed and my phone buzzed again. If this was still Deen I wasn’t going to answer her. I groaned as I picked up my phone. But if I didn’t answer her, she might come barging in my room, thinking I was attacked or kidnapped.
It was her again, ugh.
“Huh?” I said, reading Deen’s message. “What is this?”
She sent, “Watch this,” followed by a link.
It led to a Snippet page of a group called SVS, the Silent Vigil Society, whatever the hell that was supposed to be. The latest post on the page was published only five minutes ago, yet it already had hundreds of comments and reactions. “DOWNLOAD and SHARE before the BID deletes this video!!!” was its caption.
More footage of the snake mutant? While I missed my snake mutant buddy, I’d seen enough of these videos already. I was about to dismiss it when the next line caught my eye. “A good Adumbrae? An Adumbrae saved me! Click to see a hero Adumbrae!”
I immediately clicked play.
My mouth slowly formed a grin as I realized what the video was about. Sure enough, the snake mutant was there. But that wasn’t the important part. The true star of the show walked into view, a gorgeous woman wearing mini cargo shorts, boots, and a red hoodie over a bare midriff top.
I laughed out loud, perhaps my most genuine laugh for a long time.
A hero?
I didn’t even save anyone, was the first thought that came to mind. Second thought: someone was there who was able to record this? Lastly, maybe I should text mom, Mom, I’m on TV! Or to be more accurate—what was that term kids nowadays used? Oh yeah.
Mom, I’m going viral!
“Home sweet home,” I sang as I strode across the condominium lobby.
“You’re awfully happy,” Deen said. “Didn’t you enjoy your stay at my place?”
“I did, I super did,” I truthfully said. It was awesome at her house. “But I also adore familiarity.” And being alone.
I hated change. Hell, I couldn’t even change how my mind worked even if I wanted to. Familiarity quelled my urge to bother people; it pacified me to an extent. The squeaky marble tiles of the condominium lobby, the potted mini palm trees that I wasn’t sure were real. The vending machine where I bought a bottle of milk tea each time I was bored and wanted a quick sugar rush. The ATM that needed a ritual before coughing up your money. Familiar faces were here too. The guard who greeted us as we entered, the friendly janitor mopping a spill on the floor, the nice lady at the counter.
Just kidding. I could barely recall any of these people even though I often saw them. I couldn’t pick them out of a police line-up if you held a gun to my head.
I also didn’t know any of the other people living in the building.
Not a single soul.
They knew me, for sure. Many people greeted me inside the elevators, along hallways, stairs. I just put on a friendly neighbor's face and replied ‘hello’, ‘have a nice day’, ‘nice weather’, and I never committed their faces or names to mind. Why would I? I don’t care if everyone in this building died the next day. More importantly, it was too much work to create a full-fledged face for each of the fuckers here—a normal disinterested neighbor persona was enough.
Deen and I entered the elevator. “Are you sure it’s fine that you carried my bag with the law books and stacks of printouts?” I asked her. “I should’ve used a stroller for all of that.”
“I’m fine,” she replied. “Is it because I’m a woman that I can’t carry heavy baggage?”
“Deen,” I said rolling my eyes at her, “there’s a difference between an empowered woman and a woman with powers. One of those could get you arrested by the BID. I needed like two trips to bring my law stuff inside your house, and you’re carrying my bike too.”
She shrugged. “No one knows what’s inside these bags anyway.”
“Does it feel good?”
“Huh? What’s with that out-of-the-blue question?”
“The power. Having super strength. Every injury healing quickly. Just curious.”
“Yes, it feels great,” she simply said, her tone indicating she didn’t want to explain further.
We didn’t talk about anything else because people entered and exited the elevator as it climbed to the 22nd floor where my room was. A couple greeted me, and I expectedly had no idea who they were. Still, I politely greeted them back.
There was this one woman though who I was ninety-nine percent sure I hadn’t met before. She stepped into the elevator wearing high-heeled, knee-high black boots, a leather skirt, and a leather jacket over a crop top. She was middlingly good-looking, with…um…unconventional makeup. Like, girl, what’s up with the orange eye shadow and exaggerated cat-eye eyeliner that looked like it was drawn with a black marker? I knew she was a resident because she was able to press the button for her floor after scanning her room key card.
She stared condescendingly at Deen for the entire ride up, perhaps threatened by her beauty, until we alighted first upon reaching my floor. I could feel daggers in my back as we exited the elevator. While I couldn’t remember the faces of people I didn’t care about, I was certain I'd remember someone as weird as her. She probably moved in when I was staying at Deen’s.
“Weirdo,” I said.
“Yeah, what’s her problem?” Deen said.
“Lots of interesting people you’ll meet living in a condo.”
“Maybe I’ll try that. But my sister hates living in a place with many people, that’s why we rented a whole house at Verde Hills. And she wouldn’t allow me to live on my own because she’s afraid I might bring guys over.”
“We’re in our twenties,” I said. “Why would she care who you bonked? Or the venue of said hypothetical bonking? Most of the time she’s not at your house.”
“Is that your word for sex? Bonk?”
“Bonk, bonk, bonk.”
“Please don’t do that.”
"What word do you want me to use? Plow?" I grinned at her frowning face. “Wait, is your sister staying at her boyfriend’s flat because I’m at your house? Is she avoiding me? I didn't mean to inconvenience her.”
“She’s like that even before you came, don’t worry about it. She’s a ghost haunting the place. Sometimes there, sometimes not.”
When we entered my unit, I inhaled deeply, taking in the stale air of a room that hadn’t been opened for a couple of weeks.
I loved it!
Finally, some peace and rest. It wasn’t that I hated staying at Deen’s place. It was just that I had to keep up my face for an ungodly amount of time.
“Thank you for everything, Deen,” I said. “Here, I’ll even initiate the hug as a sign of my gratitude.” I spread my arms and wrapped them around the middle of her body, pulling her to me, laying my head on her chest. My hand felt her back until I found her spine. It would be so easy to rip her spine out—Erase! Erase those thoughts or the Guardian Angel might say something to her.
“Wouldn’t you burn like a vampire under the sun if you hugged me first?” she said, hugging me back tightly.
After several seconds, I said, “I think that’s enough hugging for now. That’ll last us for a while.”
“Don’t forget to always check your messages,” Deen said. She continued with her reminders and stuff for several minutes until I told her she was acting like a mother again. “Whatever. I guess this is goodbye, Erind.”
“Why the sad face coupled with a forlorn farewell?” I said. “We’ll see each other again tomorrow.”
"I don't know. I'm already starting to miss you."
Once Deen left, I turned on the TV to catch the evening news and sat on the couch to order pizza. It had been so frickin’ long since I last ate pizza! I didn’t want to eat one with Deen because she might judge the way I ate it. It was fine with a toast to eat the crust first, but I'd get odd stares if I ate the pizza crust first.
“Oh, a text from Mom,” I said as I opened my phone. I literally forgot about my own mother because of the excitement of the past few days. I should’ve texted her I was safe the moment the signal block was lifted like the dutiful and responsible daughter I should be. Why did she only contact me now? The shit the city was going through should be carried by international news too.
As if answering my question, Mom explained she was busy with some convention in Switzerland and didn’t know what was going on in the US until today. Understandable, most of the international news would be focused on the Madagascar crisis. She also said she was going to visit me next month.
“Don’t worry, Mom. Still alive and kicking,” I texted her. “I’m safe here. Just tell me when you’re not busy so I can call you.”
Now what flavor to order? I listened to the news with one ear while browsing the menu of my favorite pizza place. It was just a couple of blocks away from here and I could’ve ordered earlier on the way, but I didn’t want Deen to judge me if I got a whole 12-inch pizza all for myself. I decided to get a four-in-one to save time on thinking what flavor to choose. I looked up from my phone when the news about the snake mutant at Serenade Bazaar came up.
The reporter interviewed a city official outside Serenade Bazaar. Heavily armed police officers, as well as a few in ComExos, established a perimeter while people in hazmat suits went in and out of the building. The reporter and the official referred to the mutant as an SBM Adumbrae even though it wasn’t. Outwardly, there was no actual difference between my snake mutant buddy and a low-level Adumbrae, the ones categorized as Spontaneous Breach Manifestations.
SBMs, they were the most common Adumbrae manifestation, an infected person that spontaneously transformed at an early stage before the Adumbrae could make any progress transferring itself down to our dimension. Just your average mindless monster.
Most people thought these were weak-willed individuals who couldn't handle the onset of the mental invasion and broke down, resulting in a premature mutation. As a result, there was a certain...view...about these individuals that also affected their families. I recalled this fact because my father lectured me on this when I made a supposedly 'insensitive' off-hand comment about something I saw on TV. I was a kid back then, who could blame me? I was an adult now so I knew when to shut up about my thoughts.
The city official explained this was a Level 2 SBM. SBMs were classified in five levels if I recalled correctly, depending on their strength, destructive capabilities, and how difficult they were to kill.
The news switched to an expert in the studio to explain more about SBMs. He said, “Neither the Adumbrae nor the individual is in control. Effectively, the Adumbrae has abandoned the individual. The negative well left by the collapse of the Eloyce Field of the individual is not sufficient to house the Adumbrae.”
Science mumbo jumbo, but I got the gist of it. “Didn’t Rofirio say the mutants also didn’t have Adumbrae inside them?” I muttered as I chose pepperoni, four cheese, burger, and barbeque chicken as the flavors for my pizza. I was going to pig out tonight. “Were mutants like a level below the SBMs?” I wondered out loud. In a way, the mutants were knock-off brand Adumbrae. The 2Ms wouldn’t want to make actual Adumbrae for harvesting purposes; that was too dangerous.
“SBMs are often said to be akin to wild animals,” the expert on TV continued, “but that is not an accurate representation. Devoid of the consciousness of the individual and lacking control from the Adumbrae, the SBM will be fueled by the remnants of the negative well of the individual. Thus, while some researchers are of the opinion it retains some memories of its former self, its primary objective will be to indiscriminately kill and destroy, as we’ve seen tragically happen today.”
I checked other channels. They were all covering the incident, they only talked about one Adumbrae. What the hell? Why was there nothing about me?
Come on, show something about me!
Another channel said that the BID was tracking the people who were inside Serenade Bazaar at that time. Good thing I transformed before entering. Although, they were expectedly having a hard time identifying the people just based on the security cam footage alone.
“If you have video recordings or pictures of the incident,” an advisory flashed, “don’t hesitate to contact the BID hotline on your screens.”
I snorted. No one was dumb enough to do that. If you contacted the BID to volunteer footage, that would be admitting you were there. And then you’d also be tested and placed on a watch list just in case you might be infected with something. That meant months of follow-up tests. Such a hassle.
Well, there were people dumb enough to do that.
For example, the people who posted the videos they recorded online.
My phone vibrated. Was it Mom? Or perhaps it was Deen being paranoid again?
I snorted as I saw the name. Yep, it was just nagging Deen. She messaged me using that stupid Snippet app she forced me to download. I told her I was fine and that I was going to sleep because I was tired so she wouldn’t bother me for the rest of the night.
A couple of minutes passed and my phone buzzed again. If this was still Deen I wasn’t going to answer her. I groaned as I picked up my phone. But if I didn’t answer her, she might come barging in my room, thinking I was attacked or kidnapped.
It was her again, ugh.
“Huh?” I said, reading Deen’s message. “What is this?”
She sent, “Watch this,” followed by a link.
It led to a Snippet page of a group called SVS, the Silent Vigil Society, whatever the hell that was supposed to be. The latest post on the page was published only five minutes ago, yet it already had hundreds of comments and reactions. “DOWNLOAD and SHARE before the BID deletes this video!!!” was its caption.
More footage of the snake mutant? While I missed my snake mutant buddy, I’d seen enough of these videos already. I was about to dismiss it when the next line caught my eye. “A good Adumbrae? An Adumbrae saved me! Click to see a hero Adumbrae!”
I immediately clicked play.
My mouth slowly formed a grin as I realized what the video was about. Sure enough, the snake mutant was there. But that wasn’t the important part. The true star of the show walked into view, a gorgeous woman wearing mini cargo shorts, boots, and a red hoodie over a bare midriff top.
I laughed out loud, perhaps my most genuine laugh for a long time.
A hero?
I didn’t even save anyone, was the first thought that came to mind. Second thought: someone was there who was able to record this? Lastly, maybe I should text mom, Mom, I’m on TV! Or to be more accurate—what was that term kids nowadays used? Oh yeah.
Mom, I’m going viral!
