13 Louise

Higher. Higher. Move!

My eyes fixed the small stone as I was crouching next to a paint can. The stone rose about twenty centimeters before falling back on the ground in front of the depot.

It was my record. I smiled with satisfaction. The day before, after helping me discover the nature of my power, the Lord had taught me some tricks about how to optimize lifeforce. I had put his lesson into practice at the busy night pub I worked at at night, and I think I had managed to efficiently absorb a higher amount of wasted lifeforce. That said, I still struggled when it came to using my ability. Just in a few attempts, I had the impression I had wasted more than half the energy I had worked so hard to obtain.

The bell sounded the end of morning tests. I stood up and looked at the school’s main building. While, as third-year students, Ray and Arkill were having the last midterm exams, I had to come to school too since I had been punished by painting the outer walls of a small building next to the gym. It was apparently made for storage. I had peeped inside and it looked pretty messy. The façade, though, was now almost restored. Just a bit more and I would pass to the last wall.

“Let’s get it done!” I said to myself, brandishing the paintbrush. I got to work, humming a melody.

I normally always avoided troubles at school, thus I had rarely got punished. My first actual slip was when I had given Woon’s bully a lesson last spring, and it seemed that no teacher found out. I almost regretted I didn’t get punished more: painting was fun. Maybe I could even improvise and add some figures? If only there was more than just white paint… Ah, maybe there were more cans in the storage? Then I remembered I was quite bad at drawing, and I changed my mind.

“Lalari, lalalaru…”

I was humming, not bothered in any way by the paint scent, cold, or tiredness. Being an undead was great. Should I compose a hymn for us, undead? Did songs about necromancy exist in the Underworld? I had never thought about that. I should ask Ray later.

Bit by bit, I began to chain some verses:

I stopped, blushing internally. I wasn’t expecting to compose a love song…

“Who’s that punk?”

I jolted and turned around. Four third-year boys were sauntering along the path next to the depot, staring mockingly at me. The one who just spoke, a green-haired guy with a cocky look, stepped closer, his hands in his pockets.

“You’re a student?”

“Er… Oh, I am,” I answered, a bit troubled. Had they heard my silly song? “I’m a second-year. I’ve been punished, so I’m painting these walls. Do you… have some business in there?” I asked as I saw one of them lift the bar and open the door.

Now that he knew he was dealing with a junior student, the green-haired guy’s attitude seemed to get even more arrogant. He drew close to my face as he said:

“That place’s our turf. Got a problem with that?”

“Huh… No.”

“Then keep working and be quiet.”

“Yes…” I smiled hesitatingly as I turned around. Those brats pretending to act like thugs were kinda cute.

As I was painting the wall, I heard them speaking inside.

“What did that guy do to get punished, anyway?”

“No idea.”

“His song was so lame!” someone laughed. Damn. So they heard me.

“Heh… I hope they don’t restore this place because they want to do something with it.”

“I don’t care. I’ll leave this damn school after a month, anyway.”

“Styzz, you lucky bastard. So you really got scouted by the Nyomin Union?”

“His ability is amazing, so no wonder.”

Ability? My paintbrush stopped as I listened.

“I think I’ll be joining the Hidden Wolves unit in a matter of two years or so,” Styzz said in a nonchalant tone.

“What? But that’s an elite unit of the Nyomin! You can’t possibly join them just like that, Styzz.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll make it happen.”

That was some confidence. The Hidden Wolves were a group of elite members under the direct command of the Nyomin director. They were secret agents that had supposedly undergone hellish training. There was even a video series for children featuring them as the Undefeatable Swordsmen of Justice. Becoming a Hidden Wolf was, hence, every little boy’s dream. I remember that even my sister had once said she wanted to become one.

I heard footsteps on the wooden floor and started painting again. Styzz walked out of the depot and scowled at me.

“Hey, you, did you hear? Go buy us some snacks at the cafeteria if you don’t want to deal with a future Hidden Wolf like me.”

Oh, oh, so scary. I could have talked back, but ever since that day in summer, I had sworn to myself I wouldn’t get into senseless fights anymore. I put the paintbrush down, gave the green-haired future Hidden Wolf a thumbs up, and just left.

I went to take a walk on the other side of the school field. When I came back after the bell, I found the white paint can overturned and one of the walls smudged with green paint. A message had been written in upper case: «WE’LL GET U». Where did they get their hands on a green paint can? Perhaps inside the depot? Well… I kind of expected that. I just hoped they went back to their exams without having eaten anything. Good grief… If only they knew they were messing with an undead, they would have freaked out.

I glanced at the white paint spilled on the ground, then went into the building. I found several paint cans abandoned there. There were no white-colored ones, but beige ones… Oh, well, they were about the same, right?

“Time to put on the final coat, I guess.”

It took me several hours to repaint the wall. Then, I finally washed my hands stained in paint, dropped by the office to say I was done, and left the school. Ray wouldn’t finish his exams until six o’clock. As I passed through the gates, I looked at my cell. There were some messages from Zeeta.

‘Zeeta, today, at 13:12: When are u guys coming home?’

‘13:14: There’s a weird girl with greenish-blue hair here.’

‘13:14: She opened and I got in. Didn’t know u guys weren’t home.’

‘13:15: Who’s she, btw?’

A greenish-blue-haired girl, at our home? As I picked up the pace, I typed:

‘Armen, 15:01: No idea. 😅’

‘15:01: I just left school (I was painting some walls). You still there? I’m coming.’

I got home some minutes later. The snow from yesterday had stuck, and early in the morning, I had made a little snowman in the park beside the house. I had shown it to Ray on our way to school. Now the snow had thawed on the streets, but my snowman was still standing pridefully. The undead’s power to make snowmen was nothing to be scoffed at, muahahaha…

I pushed the gate, then took my key and opened the door. What I saw then was unexpected.

In the living room, Zeeta and a spiky greenish-blue-haired girl were standing in front of each other and yelling:

“Rock, paper, scissors!”

Both of them played scissors, then looked at me. I raised a hand.

“Er… What’s going on here?”

“Armen!” Zeeta’s face showed relief.

“We’re playing You-win-you-ask!” the girl said happily. “Do you want to play? Do you want to play?”

“Er…”

“She’s five years old,” Zeeta abruptly declared. “Her name’s Louise, she likes cats, she loves games but not video games nor chessboard games. She wants to know Ray’s new familiar, that’s you. By the way, she sucks at rock-paper-scissors.”

I understood that Zeeta had learned all that through their game. There was no way her body was five years old, she was in her twenties or her late teens at least, but since she probably was an undead, it was reasonable to think her mentality was that of a five-year-old child. Had Zeeta really been playing with her for two hours already?

As I saw the castle of cards on the table, I whistled. They were as good at that as my dad was. Impressive.

“Rock, paper, scissors!”

Again, Zeeta and Louise ended in a tie.

“Ray’s familiar! You lost, you lost, you have to answer our questions!”

Eh? What? I wasn’t even playing! Both of them were staring at me, Zeeta smirking, the greenish-blue-haired girl tilting her head and showing her razor-sharp teeth. She was creepy… but her childish behavior had some charm.

“That, well… Okay,” I accepted. “I’ll answer. By the way, I’m Armen. Hi, Louise, nice to meet you. You’re with the Lord, right?”

“You lost, you can’t ask!” Louise warned. “Also, you have to answer the truth and only the truth, or else the game’s no fun. Seeta, your turn.”

Seeta? She couldn’t pronounce the “z”. Zeeta blushed a bit as I grinned teasingly. A gleam of revenge passed on his eyes.

“Armen, between Ray and me, who’s your best friend?”

“…! What?”

“Who’s more friend of yours?”

He got me in a pinch.

“What’s with the ‘more’ friend? You’re not making any sense. Both of you are friends. There’s no ranking.”

“But there is.”

“You’re both my best friends!” I said, agitated.

Zeeta gave me a mocking smile.

“That’s impossible.”

“… I so wanna kick you now, Zeeta.”

He laughed. Frowning, Louise chimed in:

“Beeeep! Your turn’s over. Now’s my turn. Alumen.” Whoa… Was she calling my name? Zeeta chuckled. Louise grinned with her sharp teeth as she turned her green eyes to me. “There comes my question: how old are you?”

“I’m seventeen.”

Actually, in Farskyer, people counted their age based on New Year’s Day, so officially, I wasn’t even seventeen, though my birthday had already passed.

Louise’s eyes widened in disbelief, then her expression showed respect.

“So old! You’re nearly as old as Arkill!”

Eh… I smiled hesitantly.

“Actually, it’s just you who’s very young, Louise.”

I was saying that in front of a girl’s grown-up body. Louise pouted, then said:

“Again! Rock, paper, scissors!”

This time, at least, I got to play. Zeeta and I played rock, Louise, scissors. She fortunately wasn’t a sore loser: she looked at us, expectantly, waiting for the questions.

“Do you…” we both began.

“Go first, Alumen,” Zeeta said.

“No, you go, Seeta.”

“No, you go, you go, Alumen.”

“Hurry up!” Louise bounced up and down.

She really acted like a five-year-old girl. Zeeta and I exchanged an amused smile, then I asked:

“Do you like snow, Louise?”

Her eyes lit up.

“I do! Because it’s white and it squeaks. But Papa says it’s bad to touch it too much because my hands can turn blue, and then I can’t move my fingers.”

I raised a quivering eyebrow, trying not to laugh. Papa? Could she mean the Lord Necromancer? I thought about her answer. Now that I think about it, Ray had warned me to be careful about temperatures: even if I could barely sense them, my skin could freeze or get burned. Not being able to feel real pain was one of the reasons young undead who couldn’t remember their past lives had to be watched closely by a necromancer. I remembered I heard the Lord say something like that. So, that meant… the Lord had left his cute and playful little girl under our care.

Louise really was bad at rock-paper-scissors, but she was enjoying it the most. She cheerfully answered our questions: she liked her “Papa” a lot, she had never gone out of Farskyer City, she usually played with Uncle Adrian—probably another life-reaper—she also liked a lot the subway because it was “full of food”. She was afraid of… nothing! Or so she said. She disliked something named Rakshaha—a guy? a sort of dish? I couldn’t even ask, because she immediately passed on the next round with a happy laugh. Truth be told, it didn’t take long before I succumbed to Louise’s childish charm like Zeeta.

It was almost six o’clock when I realized it was night already and I said:

“Ray and Arkill must have finished their exams. How about we go pick them up?”

“Is it really necessary? It’s freezing outside,” Zeeta complained.

“Come on, it’s only ten minutes on foot. Ray will be happy if we come together.”

“…”

I smiled.

“Let’s rock-paper-scissors it.”

I won, Louise clapped her hands, and we went out the three of us. Louise was skipping happily through the street. Zeeta let out:

“Okay, from now on I’ll assume that every adult acting childish is a new undead.”

“Don’t,” I snorted. Then I asked: “So? You said you managed to rent something?”

“Yeah, sort of. Yesterday, I bumped into my boss’ little brother, and he insisted on having me stay at his house, in Tiergarten, not far from here. He’s a rich kid that likes to show off, but he’s not a bad guy. Oh, and guess what: my boss’ houses are super luxurious.”

“The Beholder, right?”

“Huh? You heard of him? Well, he’s nicknamed the Beholder by outsiders, but we call him just Nick.”

“He’s a power-holder too, right?”

“Yeah, he’s got a psychic power. According to his brother, he’s able to save information in his brain like a computer and make external copies. He’s kind of a walking computer.”

“… He must be a very special person.”

“Yes!” Zeeta laughed. “He is special. He’s also filthy rich!”

“Huh… Looks like that family’s money has bought you, Zeeta.”

“Hah? Welp, that may be true. But as long as I’m having fun, I think it’s okay,” he grinned.

As we were turning a corner, we heard Louise yell:

“Ray! We’ve come to pick you up!”

We saw Ray in his school uniform, standing alone under the light of a lamp-post. I froze. Wasn’t Arkill supposed to be with him?

“Ray!” I called out to him.

I rushed. Knowing him, he probably had been running from lamp-post to lamp-post, avoiding the dark. Yet…

“Why did you come?” he asked, flustered. His dark hair hid his eyes in the shadows, but the slight quivering of his lips was speaking for itself. Dammit.

“Where’s Arkill?”

“My dad wanted him to go somewhere. I told him to go. Tch, it’s not like I can’t go home by myself. I’m fine, really.”

He clearly wasn’t. But telling him that wouldn’t help. I laid a hand on his head and smiled at him.

“I know. It’s all right. Let’s go home now.”

He swallowed, his dark eyes more brilliant than usual. He relaxed, then moved aside as he grumbled:

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

“Let’s, let’s!” Louise said cheerfully, taking his arm.

“And what are you doing here, Louise?”

“I’ve come to play! Papa said I could!”

“R-Really?”

On our way back home, Louise did an excellent job in distracting Ray’s attention from the darkness surrounding us. Getting an idea of what was going on, Zeeta whispered to me:

“Is it that bad?”

I shrugged.

“You could say that.”

Zeeta didn’t insist. After all, he’d had bigger personal problems to deal with. He muttered as we were passing the gate:

“Oh, I didn’t tell you… My dad’s still alive.”

I stopped dead in my tracks at his words. So he didn’t kill him. Thank goodness.

“That’s great.”

“Yeah.”

He added nothing. He didn’t want to talk about that anymore. I didn’t either. I was just happy Zeeta had broken all ties with that despicable person.

As soon as we got into the house, I decided to prepare dinner: that would cheer Ray up.

“What do you want to eat? An omelet?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen.

“Yes!” Louise said excitedly. “I want something yummy. Red strawberries, eat and be merry-zu!”

That looked like an advertisement slogan. Wait, she was capable of saying the “z”, after all! I gently replied:

“Strawberries can’t be yummy for us, Louise.”

“Why not?”

Did she really not know? I was trying to find my words when, going to the fridge, Ray opened the freezer, saying:

“Didn’t we have frozen veggies? We could use that for… AAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHH!”

His scream scared me to the core. If I had been alive, I think I would have died from a heart attack. Ray hurried backwards and fell, stuttering with a high-pitched voice:

“Wh-Wh-Wh-What? What is that thing?!!”

“Oh, that?”

Cheerfully, Louise approached and took out something from the freezer. It was a tabby cat body. I gasped, horrified; Zeeta let out a “Holy Gods” under his breath… What the hell was doing a dead cat in our freezer! Embracing the stiff, furry corpse of the animal, Louise smiled from ear to ear as she said:

“I’ve found it on a street this morning, but it wasn’t moving. Papa said you’ll make it move, Ray. Make it move! Make it move and say meow!”

She shook it up and down. Ray, Zeeta, and I probably had the same thought here:

That’s one terrifying five-year-old kid.