Oblivion: Chapter 1, Part 1/2
Buy me a coffee?
A/N: welcome to the beginning of Oblivion! I hope you’ve read the blurb, because a context on this story is essential! This is just as much a new chapter in my own writing life as it is a new leaf of my blog. I’ll be trialling new formats and structures in this work, and applying things I’ve learnt from uni. Hope you all enjoy.
Warnings: electrocution
Characters: Anton Brodes, Chase Brodes, Jackie Brodes (calling them the Brodes family), Detective Inspector George Wallace, Dr. Henry Schneep
Word count: 1305 words (I’ve split the introductions into two parts so you have time to digest this first batch)
“Name?”
“Septicie.”
“Real name.”
“Anton… Anton Brodes.”
“Age?”
“Don’t know.”
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“Something about the power outage in the town, probably.”
“Anton, I just need to know what happened. Can you do that for me?”
A sigh.
Anton Brodes was working his usual late night shift at the surveillance company downtown during the worst rainstorm recorded in the town ever. Earbuds in, he was whistling to the music pounding in his ears as he ran the mop down the corridor.
He looked up as a flicker of sparks flew into the hall from a room.
“Anybody out there?” No answer. Concerned about the possibility of a humanitarian crisis, he crept to the room to make sure nobody was inside.
The room was an array of brightly-coloured sparks and fizzing wires. As his eyes travelled around the room, Anton realised one of the large circuit boxes had short-circuited and was breaking apart the rest of the room.
“Damn it, why my shift?” Taking a deep breath, he reached out to begin repairing the wires.
As his hand touched the box, a bright flash blinded him temporarily. He vaguely registered falling forwards, and a cold chill running up his arms. As his body fell to the floor, the sparks and wires from the circuit boxes began to seep into his pores, manipulating his DNA and causing him to yell in pain. Then he passed out.
***
“Name?”
“You know my name, Inspector.”
“This is protocol, Jackie. Just say your name for the record.”
“You just said my name.”
“Full name.”
“Jackie Brodes.”
“Age?”
“Twenty-five. Look, if you want me to tell you what I saw, just say. Don’t go through this ‘protocol’ stuff. We’ve been through this a dozen times.”
“Tell me what you saw.”
“With pleasure.”
Jackie was sitting on the roof of the police station, surveying the area the same way he did every night. A flashing to his left alerted his attention.
“What the hell?” He squinted at the bright light emanating from downtown, trying to place its exact location.
“Anton!” Unwinding his rope, he began to swing across the city, Spider-man style. His heart pounded in his chest, worry clouding his face.
Arriving at the company, Jackie used his patented electronic lockpick to get inside, following the sounds of yells to find Anton’s cleaning equipment abandoned.
“Strange. He never leaves that alone,” Jackie commented to himself as he looked down the corridor. Flickering lights impaired his vision, and he put on some night-vision goggles to see better.
Heading down the hall to the room with sparks, he saw an amalgamation of wires covering a moving figure. Upon further inspection, Jackie realised it was his estranged brother, wrapped in cables and unconscious.
“Anton, hold on, I’ll help you. Power switch, power switch…” he spun in a circle, finding the master switch for power, and flicking it off. As soon as the cables had stopped fizzing and writhing, he began to disentangle his brother.
“Are you alright? Anton, talk to me.” He held the janitor, feeling static electricity prick his skin with every movement. Tilting his head, the hero activated the communications device sewn into his hood.
“We have a code yellow in the surveillance company downtown. Power surge or short circuit. There’s been a casualty. Please hurry.” He held Anton close, ignoring the pricks of static as he tried to make the man open his eyes.
Anton woke up in the darkness, a heavy weight on his chest. Opening his eyes, the lights of the room flickered, then shone brightly.
He raised his arm to shield his eyes, then held it back to look at the bandages wrapped around it. Curious, he lifted his other arm, seeing the same thing. What happened?
“Oh, you’re awake. How are you feeling?” A nurse walked into the room, clipboard in her hands and warm smile on her face.
“I feel…” he drifted off as his voice crackled. He tried clearing his throat, only for the lights to flicker. He looked at the nurse, who shrugged.
“There’s a thunderstorm outside. The lights flicker whenever that happens.” Anton nodded, slowly, not telling the nurse that the room was dark before he opened his eyes.
“I’ll call your brother in. He’s been sitting outside for hours.” She left, leaving the door open before leading a man in a red hoodie inside.
“Hey, Anton. How are you feeling?” Instead of speaking, Anton raised his hands and began to sign to the hero. The Brodes family had learnt sign due to their father going deaf in their early years.
Something weird is happening to me. Jackie read the signs, then nodded, turning to the nurse and asking to be left alone. She left the room, giving Anton a wary glance.
“What do you mean by weird? Are you sick?”
When I opened my eyes, it was like I turned the lights on. Then my voice…
“My voice crackles, Jackie.” The hero started at the sound of the janitor’s once smooth voice. He sat down, lifting Anton’s arms to inspect the bandages.
“Do your arms hurt? I found you wrapped up in sparking wires. I can call Schneeple if you want-” Anton shook his head furiously, grabbing the hero’s wrists.
I just want to get out of here. Take me home. Jackie nodded slowly, thinking.
“It’s Chase’s week with you. I’ll give him a call.”
***
“Mr. Brodes, I understand your concern about your wife and family, but your brother-”
“He’s not my brother.”
“-Anton has been through and done something terrible to the city. I need to know everything you know.”
“You know, it’s only been two months since he was found at the surveillance company. My family’s been missing for two years.”
“As soon as you tell us your story, we’ll go back to the investigation on your wife.”
“Fine.”
Chase was sitting at the police station, discussing a missing persons’ report for the eighth time in two months.
“They’ve been missing for a year and a half, sir. There must be a priority for that.” The officer sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Mr. Brodes, we’ve been looking for years, and gotten nothing. They disappeared. Maybe it’s time to-”
“No, I refuse to believe they’re… that word. If they were, you would have found a record of that, wouldn’t you?”
“True, sir. Look, the man in charge of your case will be back tomorrow, why don’t you come back then?” Chase sighed in frustration, then nodded.
As he left the station, his phone began to play the tune of ‘Bad Case of Loving You’, signalling Henry was calling.
“What’s up, Hen?” The voice on the other end was shaky, a little confused, and strongly laced with German roots.
“You need to come back home. I think you should call Marvin on your way.”
When Chase arrived home, he saw Henry standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes trained on a person at the table.
“Who’s this?” Chase took his hat off and hung his wet coat on the coat hanger by the door.
“Did you not call Marvin?” Chase shook his head, trying to get the water off his hair.
“No reply. Where did Charlie Chaplin come from?”
“That’s the weird thing. He just appeared on the stairs when I came home. I thought maybe Marvin had something to do with it.” The doctor paused to consider something, then chuckled to himself.
“Actually, the weird thing is over here.” He led Chase to the foyer, turning on the light and pointing to the stairs. About halfway up, the pastel green paint had faded to monochrome, looking like a broken television set.
“Great, our newcomer drained the colours from our stairs.” Chase looked back at the kitchen, watching the visitor sip on tea.
“He’s certainly fully coloured.”