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Chapter 1 - Who is Boris?

  "Only death will satisfy you." These words pounded inside my skull. Darkness washed over me until a foul stench clogged my throat with vomit. My eyes bulged out as my esophagus pumped out waves and waves of bile.

  Involuntary tears slid down my face while my hands trembled. A single glowing light fought against the blinding forces. It originated from an oil lantern that was knocked over on the damp stone ground below.

  I crawled over and wrapped my soaked fingers on the handle. Gushing flows erupted at a distance. I increased the flame in the lantern as it slowly revealed a splatter of thick blood on the sewer lining.

  I clutched at my head as the throbbing expanded the veins on my scalp. No more. I had to get out of here. All directions looked the same, but I had to choose one, so I took a left. Limping across the drainage system of wherever I was, barely able to see further than five arm's length ahead.

  The distant gushing grew louder, approaching like a stampede. Sharp pain cut through my nerves as I tried running. My footing slipped off the slimy ground. I landed on my rear, and the lantern tumbled out of my hand. The water beneath me vibrated from the approaching current.

  I shot up and swiped the lantern. It seemed like there was no end to this accursed sewer. I sprinted and sprinted, but there was nothing—the same walls and darkness. I heard the flow of water closing in on me.

  It's here! Just a bit behind. The flood swept me off my feet and encompassed my whole body. The lantern extinguished immediately. I banged against the lining of the tunnel as the current tossed me around.

  Bits of the thick sewage water entered my mouth. I lost track of how long it had been, but my lungs tightened. I began losing my grip, and my consciousness slowly faded.

  Bang! I felt a hard jolt as I hit something. The sewer's flow didn't stop, and the pressure washed through me, but I remained.

  Bracing and holding on for a few more moments, and finally, it subsided. I didn't care how bad this place smelled; I let the air invade my lungs as much as I could.

  "I hate it here." My voice echoed.

  Now I couldn't even see my hand in front of me. What did I hit? I explored around with my arms, searching for what saved me from the tide. My hand landed on a metal bar, and with a little more feeling around, these bars went up. A ladder!?

  I ascended the bars without hesitation; no way am I going to stick around any longer.

  After what felt like eons, my body cramped from the climbing. However, fortunately and unfortunately, I hit my head against metal. I felt the metal cover budge; it had to be a manhole.

  "Let's see what's beyond this hell-hole."

  The manhole cover shifted around and rattled before popping out. I peeked my head out. My jaw hung open like a drawer someone forgot to close. Where am I? I didn't even know what to expect. To be honest, I have no prior memory of anything before waking up in the sewer. Pushing myself up and over used up the last bit of energy in my tank.

  My lungs inflated, and a wheezing exhale escaped. It looked like nighttime. A dark grey cloud covered the sky. I was on a street with few buildings, but it was part of a city design. My eyes had adjusted well to the dark; I saw a few people walking by. Their eyebrows raised at me. Whatever, I survived a cruel and disgusting death. No amount of judgment will deter me.

  I walked through the streets, and people scrunched their noses as soon as my fragrance hit them. One man pinched his nose. "Good morning, officer."

  Another one nodded, "Officer."

  "Keeping the streets safe, are you?"

  Morning? Officer? What are these people talking about? I must be on the wrong side of town. Then I realized I was wearing a uniform: black trousers and a black coat with gold buttons. The crowd made way for me, whether it was the smell or the whole 'officer' thing. A small crowd formed around a commotion.

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  I managed to sneak in and spectate; what looks like a… fight?

  "Get off me, you pig." One of the participants shoved the other man. His opponent responded with a swipe to his head in an animalistic stance.

  They continued these exchanges for some time until a young woman wearing a purple cloak whispered in my ear, "Hey, officer, aren't you going to do something about this?"

  "Huh? Me?" I nearly choked on my saliva.

  She looked puzzled. "I mean, isn't this your job? A public servant has to… serve the public."

  I scratched my neck. "I don't know. It looks kind of dangerous." Then I felt a shove and stumbled forward into the open circle within the crowd. Looking back, she was gone. Tsk. That stupid-. I realized the fighters had taken a pause, and the spectators laid their eyes on me.

  I cleared my throat audibly, "Alright, break it up, you two. I don't want to see any more of whatever is going on here."

  Everyone looked like they were frozen inside an iceberg.

  "Hey, Pot, for the record, this guy attacked me out of nowhere." I looked at the other participant, who seemed to be foaming at the mouth. His eyes had a dirty yellow tinge to them. Suddenly, I heard a beating on my eardrums. It was steady, but the pace picked up, and everyone else around me covered their ears as well.

  It sounded like it came from the mutating man. Was that his heartbeat? The mutant lunged at the closest victim, who was me! I stumbled, but when he came near, my body reacted and side-stepped. He twisted and spun back around to kick, and I blocked the kick while grabbing his leg.

  The man's strength felt like I was wrestling a bear. He tackled me; I tried to hold him off, but his face inched closer to my neck.

  This guy is a freak. "Woah!" I said, "We barely know each other." All he did was snarl, his saliva dripping down.

  The overwhelming force of the mutant crushed me until he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of my neck muscles. A burning sensation lit my nerves on fire. Until I felt a strong pulse beating from my heart. I had the urge to chew on something that wasn't there.

  Everyone had already dispersed, but one person stuck around. It was that girl who pushed me into this freak. She took something out of her cloak —a small glass bottle containing a prism-blue liquid.

  The girl threw the vial at the mutant, causing it to shatter and spill over both of us. Suddenly, the hairs on my body stood up, and the air felt stiff. My ears popped as a deep blue spark crunched the mutant and me. Lines of lightning from the clouds struck through our bodies.

  I couldn't stay awake any longer. However, I managed to look at that wretched girl who caused all of this. Her eyes were dead and carefree. This is it, huh?

  "Look at his neck! He was going to turn into a scram."

  "I don't see any bite marks."

  "Ma'am, we are going to have to put you under arrest for the murder of an officer."

  "I swear I saw that scram rip into him."

  I flickered my eyelids open to see four people in long black coats. Two were men, and two were women. All of them focused on a girl in a purple cloak. They looked to be arguing, but their voices were muffled. I smelled a crisp and charred scent as I turned to see a man whose back had been grilled.

  "Look, he's not dead, I didn't kill him." The four turned their heads, facing directly at me.

  "Boris! You're alive." One of the women in the coats spoke out.

  Boris? I tried getting up, but my knees gave out. Luckily, one of the guys caught me.

  "Don't push yourself so hard, you just took a homebrew straight on." He chuckled.

  One of the two women turned back, "You're still under arrest for attempted…hey guys, she's gone."

  Everyone saw that she disappeared. "Uhhh, I hate investigators so much, they think that they have some sort of jurisdiction or privilege, which they don't, and on top of that, pull stunts like these." The red-haired woman nearly popped as the other one put her hand on the girl's shoulder.

  "Maria, it's our fault, just because Boris woke up doesn't mean we should have let our guard down."

  The tallest of the bunch said, "We did what we could. Let's head back to HQ. Boris needs to get checked out."

  "I'm sorry," I interrupted, my arm hanging over the other man, "Who is Boris?"

  The group gave each other worrisome side eyes.

  I winced as a medical technician shined a white crystal into my eyes. He spoke as he examined my body, "I don't see any signs of trauma to his nervous system, but that doesn't mean anything. Unfortunately, I can't delve any deeper." The tech spun around in his swivel chair. "You would need a Detachment expert. And good luck trying to find one."

  "What does that mean? A Detachment expert?" Maria protested.

  The medical technician pulled out a cigarette and struck a match. He balanced the smoke stick between his lips, "To be honest, I'm not a hundred percent sure myself. Obviously, all of you are familiar with Attachment." He got a few nods. "Think of Detachment as something that slips in between everything else. Loan, what is your Attachment?"

  The guy with brown hair and slim eyes who caught my eye smiled. "Ten Knives, my ability." He opened his coat, and five sleek throwing daggers hung on each side.

  "Would you care to give me an explanation?"

  "Fine, I throw these daggers and can pull them back to me in a linear direction."

  "Perfect. Loan needs his knives, specifically those ten, to pull off his Attachment. But let me ask you, what is between you and your knives?" The medic let out a puff of smoke.

  Loan gave him a strange look, like he saw a bear riding a unicycle. "What?"

  "Specifically, what connects you to your knives?"

  Again, the response was the same. The medical tech shook his head. "This is all theory now, but I'll let you in on something: how can you even move your hand?"

  That's interesting. His question clicked something inside of me that I couldn't even recognize. Yet, all the others looked like they were smoking out of their heads, or maybe that was just the medic.

  The doctor sighed. "Alright, out of my unit, but one piece of advice: That's not Boris anymore—well, not the Boris that you knew."

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