The Skull Ring

June 8, 5:30

They had a library, and I couldn’t have been happier about it. And besides that, there was a constant itch in my head, and when I scratched it, knowledge came out. I couldn’t properly articulate it if I tried, but I was so much smarter now. Who needed school? This was all I needed, and I would get training for my powers. I was ecstatic.

The old man had introduced himself as Third Self, which seemed a bit odd, but who was I to judge? After having a friend of his pat me on the shoulder, the friend somehow produced a living, breathing replica of me! It drove back to my parents, and that was that. Third Self then told me to go research a good name and costume design, for when I go out into the ring. Apparently, he even had someone who can manufacture top level costumes for him!

I wasn’t entirely sure why I was rehashing the memories of a few hours ago, but my mind was moving at such a rate that I wouldn’t focus on something for more than a few seconds before moving to the next idea. I flipped open another book, looking at various images of Greek and Roman gods. Maybe one of those? Except, none of them really fit my power. Drawing harm to myself…it was something sacrificial, selfless…if not intentional. And gods in mythology cared more for themselves than their worshippers…well, most. But naming myself Jesus would have led to a few more problems.

I heard footsteps behind me and spun around in my chair to sit with my arms hanging over the back of my chair, looking at the owner of the footsteps. It was a girl, maybe three or four years older than me. She was in the process of cleaning her glasses on the edge of her shirt, not looking at me. After properly polishing her lenses, she put the rounded glasses back on her face and noticed me.

“Ah! Hey! Alex, right? Third Self told me you were going to help me.”

I smiled loosely. “Can’t. Too much to consider…so much to think about…”

She frowned, and I wondered why the pursuit of knowledge annoyed her. “He said to warn you that he was turning off his power soon, so you kind of don’t have a choice.”

My eyes widened. Turning off the power? No! There was still so much for me to do! I still hadn’t even figured out a name.

“No, he can’t do that! I’ll go talk to him-” Suddenly, I felt my brain empty like a drain absorbing water from the sink it rests in. My thoughts spiraled out of my head, and I felt disturbingly empty. I dropped to my knees, overwhelmed by the sudden quietness of my own head. Trying to remember how I had just felt was like trying to remember something you never knew in the first place. Third Self had mentioned something about that, not retaining the information…but I hadn’t expected it would be this bad.

“Are you alright?” The girl asked, “I know it’s a bit shocking when you first experience it, but it gets better the more times you use the power.”

I noticed, for the first time, that she had a faint British accent. Odd that my head had ignored that piece of information, in regard to what it was filtering in while under the influence of Third Self’s power. I clenched my fists and pushed myself off of the ground, standing up. “Um. So. You said I was supposed to help…you?”

“Mhm! I’ve got a place to go in a bit, and he didn’t want a…” she smiled, “valuable asset like me to just go and be out in the rougher parts of town on my own. Isn’t he thoughtful?”

I grimaced slightly, unnerved. “Uh…sure. So, what, I’m your bodyguard? He realizes I know like, nothing about fighting, right? My power doesn’t…oh.”

It made sense. My power could take any wounds this girl would receive if we ran into trouble. I was a sacrificial pawn, like I had been imagining for my name. What were other words for that? I pulled out my phone to look it up but froze as I realized the girl hadn’t left yet. My senses had dulled after the exhilaration of the power had so suddenly left.

The girl cleared her throat. “Right. So. I’ll be back around in like, an hour. Just meet me here, and we’ll go do the job.”

I sighed and nodded. There wasn’t much I could do, at this point. I had committed to joining this group, and while it was worth it if I got that knowledge again, this sort of menial job was reminding me of my last job at a fast-food place.

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The girl, who introduced herself as Seamstress, had returned with an oddly bulging bag that she carried over her shoulder. When I asked what was in it, she just winked at me and smiled.

“So,” I said as I walked faster to keep up with her, “Where exactly are we going?”

We were in the middle of a field, moving towards the suburbs of New Delta. The sun was just starting to dip below the mountains, so everything was cast in an orange and yellow hue that gave it an almost blood-soaked appearance. The only houses in the area of the suburbs we were headed towards, however, were well known to be run by petty gangs and small-time thugs.

The realization hit me. “Wait…are we going to make a deal with thugs? Does- does that bag have a body in it?!”

Seamstress giggled like a little girl. “No, silly! At least, I don’t think so. He seemed pretty legit online.”

I groaned. “Online? Great, so we’re headed to a shady part of town to meet with your online pal, to give him a bulging bag of unknown…stuff. Just what I imagined my night was going to be like.”

“Oh hush, stop complaining.”

Seamstress skipped forward as we reached the edge of the field and giggled again as she waltzed onto the cold concrete mixed with dirt that made up the ground of the suburbs and headed directly to a specific house. It looked very rundown, and I comforted myself with the fact that if anyone lived in it, they were likely too malnourished to try anything funny with us.

I walked ahead of Seamstress and pushed the door open. She grinned. “Wow, how reliable! Just like a real bodyguard, so strong and careful!”

I rolled my eyes and walked inside. “It’s clear, come on in. Your guy’s not here yet, though.”

“That’s a-okay! He seemed a little unsure, and I told him I would only be around tonight, so it should work out just nicely. We might have to wait a bit, though.”

I gave a curt nod and sat down on a stack of carboard boxes that lay covered in thick layers of dust and cobwebs that told me more about this place than I would have liked to know. After all, what kind of psychos like spiders?

“So, mind telling me what’s in the box? What all of this is about? I’d love to not be left in the dark, as your-” I sighed, “bodyguard.”

Seamstress grinned. “Oh, y’know. Just a little gift, of sorts. Guy wants an old costume I made for an Amp that joined us, and then tragically died in his first Ring fight.”

I shuddered. I hadn’t really thought about it, but from what I had seen, people were ruthless in the Skull Ring, fighting and killing without any care for their opponent. I was really going to have to step up my game to even survive long enough to use that knowledge again. Or maybe I could convince Third Self to let me use the knowledge while I was fighting. I was sure it would let me see exactly what my opponent was doing. After all, it made me feel practically like a god, so why wouldn’t it let me move like one, too?

An hour, and then two, passed with relative silence. Neither of us had much more to say to each other, and I simply waited, hoping this guy would show up sooner rather than later. I didn’t want to be hanging around when a gang showed up to smoke or do drugs here, thinking nobody else would be around to catch them.

Near 8:45, I heard a sound echo into the room, as tentative footsteps rang out from the back entrance to the building. I glanced over, standing up and motioning for Seamstress to step back a few paces. She giggled quietly as she did, and we waited in silence as the footsteps got closer, until a young boy stepped into the room.

He was taller than me, even though he looked to be about my age. His hair was a light blond, with the tips dyed a faded orange, as if he had forgotten to reapply the dye in the recent weeks, giving it a similar effect to the setting sun I had witnessed earlier today. He was dressed in a dual-colored hoodie with jeans and a t-shirt and looked decidedly uncomfortable to be in the building. His eyes snapped to me, Seamstress, and then to examine the room with alarming precision, showing just how cautious he was being. He then glanced at Seamstress.

“You’re the one who told me to come here, right?”

“Mhm!”

He flicked his eyes over to me and glared at me. “And who’s this?”

Seamstress brushed a stray lock of hair from her forehead. “My bodyguard! Can’t let precious clothes like these-” At this, she shook the bag she was carrying almost gleefully in the air- “go to waste if I were to die or get hurt!”

The kid scoffed. “He doesn’t look like much. Doubt he could protect you if I wanted to hurt you.”

I took a step forward, and he flinched. I grinned. “Listen, kid. I don’t think your posturing is going to get you anywhere.”

“Kid?! I bet you’re the same age as me. Actually…wait, you look kind of…familiar.”

I cocked my head to the side. “Don’t think I know you, sorry.”

Seamstress stamped her foot impatiently. “Can we get on with the deal!”

The kid nodded quickly. “Yeah, sorry. Here’s the money.” He stepped forward, pulling out a wad of cash that looked like a couple hundred dollars or so. But as the money was exchanging hands, a knife spun out of the darkness, pinning the bills right in the blank faces of the presidents printed on them, sending the money spinning into a wooden support beam next to me. My eyes shot to the knife, then back to the darkness, where several figures emerged, the front-most one spinning another knife in his hand.

“Hey there kiddies,” The guy slurred his words, as if he were drunk, but his eyes were cold and calculating. “What’s a pretty girl and her…acquaintances doing out this late in such a dangerous part of town?”

One of the crooks next to him, a guy with a large purple Mohawk and a wicked-looking switchblade chuckled menacingly and licked the flat side of his knife.

“Oh come on,” the kid who had come to make the deal groaned, “What is it with you weird goons and trying to attack me?”

“Wait, boss. That kid matches the description Kyle and Bryan gave us,” A girl with some disturbingly long dreadlocks remarked.

The leader grinned crookedly. “Huh. So he does. Well, just another reason to get ‘em. Alright, kill the boys, but keep the girl for me.”

I cringed internally. I may be able to take wounds from others, but that was pointless if they weren’t going to try to injure Seamstress…physically. How was I supposed to deal with the four or five gang members rushing at me, all carrying knives?

The blond kid stretched an arm behind his head and sighed. “Well, this isn’t exactly how I hoped this would go, but I can’t say I’m surprised. You two might want to step back, I can’t exactly control how this works.”

I stared at him in confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He glanced at me and grinned, but I could see in his eyes that he was more terrified than he was letting on.

“You’ll see.”