《Aesha Roxinne Flinn》Old Companions

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Just last night I decided to go to the countryside and met a dear friend. And visit old fellows.

I needed help with my swords. And maybe I can also lookup for a gun on my liking. Something to keep me safe and at the same time something to spill blood from the enemy's body.

I felt the harsh sun burning up my skin as I looked around to examine the place.

After 7 hours of driving, I have finally reached it again.

Here in front of me is a seemingly abandoned dormitory.

Unused.

Paint leaving some parts of the building.

No lights to welcome you outside.

You can immediately think that this is a ghost dormitory base on its appearance. Those who are mostly featured in films where ghosts are eering everywhere.

But this is actually full of tenants. And they are all living.

But only those who are aware are the only ones who know they are here.

I inspected the surroundings once more and found something new. I noticed some fields filled with crops on the side which was not there before.

Well, it's been almost a year since I haven't revisited the place, and those people obviously need it for their living.

Living seems to be in a different context for those of us left.

Living is already the same as surviving.

I stared at the outside of the dormitory once again when something crossed my mind.

I had to get going. I needed to be at home before midnight.

I parked my motorcycle on the little wooden shed they have here that is a bit elevated compared to the placement of the building. I proceeded to climb up on the large gate which has been my passage for years.

Yes, climbed.

This is an abandoned building. The owner purposely locked the gate since it was not an asset to them anymore, more as a liability they decided to rot in here.

I jumped swiftly and quietly to the other side, monitoring any possible danger around.

I continued walking and reached both of the two knobs with my hands to open the door wide open. The opening created a noise, and I met sets of eyes which are immediately focused on me. I was welcomed with silence and guns aiming at me.

But after they realized who the intruder is, they bowed a little to me and some nodded as an acknowledgment of my presence.

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They are still alert. I mean more alert than ever.

I also bowed a bit to them and they continued doing what they seem to be doing before I entered.

In contrast to its outside appearance, the inside is surrounded by lights, though still has some dark areas I've remembered before.

I saw half-opened covers in every window and opening. I roamed my eyes around and found out new pieces of equipment and materials inside the place.

These things were not here before...

And these people have been here for so long.

A thought crossed my mind again, looking at how different they live their lives today. I couldn't help the guilt creeping on me as I once again explore every mark of the past engraved in their skin.

Here are the people who served my family before and during the tragedy. Here are the people I grew up meeting, conversing, and socializing with, back when everything is alright.

Back when everything seems easy and bright.

My heart wells up by the joy of feeling the warmth of being together again just like yesterday, but the agony of watching them here in one place together also brings back those memories that taunts me.

The reason why no matter how I found their presence comforting, I decided to live alone by myself in the city because they are a part of the memory that keeps reminding me of my what-ifs.

And I do not need those distractions to weaken me from building my avenging self.

I saw Uncle Rick, our gardener, on the second floor, Room 1—whom I used to play with, smile happily and wave at me from his room.

He still welcomes the warmest even with the obvious gaps on his teeth.

But the scar on his face held my lips, preventing it from giving a smile.

I need to avenge those who are scarred.

And I will risk myself to give them back the life they deserve.

Aside from me, here are the people whose life was also ruined, and if it is not me, who would stand for them? The Luther Flinn they served seemed to forgot them already, letting them root in here.

I was not like my father. I will never forget those who are behind that night.

And those who stand for us no matter how difficult and life-threatening it was.

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I only bowed at him before reaching for my phone in my pocket to dial a number.

First call, he isn't answering.

I raised a brow and turned my body on the way to reach his room.

One more call again and this time he answered, but along with those unholy sounds as his background.

Should I kill him?

"I am here. " I said disregarding what I think he is doing.

"Oh fuck" I heard him say.

I am very sure I heard a moan turn into a needy complaint. It's near 8:30 in the morning and he is still doing that?

"Sha--No wait a minute just lay there--Sha I just saw your text. You're here? "

"I am about to enter your room now " I lied to spice his butt out of what he is doing now.

Although that is what I would really do once I reach his room.

"What?! No! "

I heard some arguments in the background and I maintained a bored face feeling the gun on my waist.

"Mark" I called him.

"Just wait a minute I needed to fix things first"

I started walking forward to reach his room.

"I am afraid I am not patient-"

"I am naked!"

I close my eyes at how he just shouted over the line.

This man can be my death.

"So what? "

I cannot find anything serious with him being naked and me entering the room.

"You'll see my dick, " he said like it would mean anything to me.

"Then I'll come to see your dick? It's not like I haven't seen that befo-" I am still not done talking but he cut me off.

"It changed, okay! It's not like before that you can just-"

"Then let me see the growth? " I casually conversed back, cutting his statement.

This conversation about his dick is boring. And I am not here for that.

That is not the sword I am concerned about.

I waited for his response but I just heard him talk gibberish before he ended the call.

A few more steps and I reached a familiar door.

He didn't even change his door, the hole I remembered before is still here. I can obviously take a peek from the outside, but instead, I just texted him I am now to enter his door.

I am already preparing to kick his ugly door but he immediately opened it. And appeared in front of me,

with a messy hair,

a faltering smile,

and a blanket covering his lower body.

"What's up?" he greeted at me.

I just raised a brow and bumped him in the shoulder to enter the room.

"I need you to condition my swords," I said, my back turned at him as I roam my eyes around this messy room of him and the possible happenings earlier.

Things are here and there.

He couldn't even arrange things here and these girls want him for that?

"You should have told me earlier," he replied.

And tell him for what? So he can reschedule his sexploits?

I faced him to negotiate about the plan. I lift my brow at his posture.

His other arm is up, head slightly leaning on it as he watches me.

His other hand is holding the blanket carelessly, making me see his v-line.

"I just thought about it last night," I continued as I roam more on the possible changes in his room.

But I really found none.

Except for a girl's panty on the floor.

That girl he is with earlier leave without wearing it back? I frowned at that.

A picture of him with me and his family on a little desk accidentally caught my sight. This is new in his room.

We were genuinely smiling there.

I tore my sight of the picture.

"I thought you'll never visit here again?" he smiled as he let down his arms.

I ignored his remark before walking towards the sofa.

"Did you do it here?" I asked first, making sure I won't be tainted of his frequent activities.

"What? No!" he said, and that is all I wanna hear.

He is one of those few people who know I will always find time to visit here despite anything.

I sat on his sofa and laid my head, facing the ceiling.

"I will just take a bath, " I heard him say before a dream descended me to sleep.

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