"Hey. We need to talk," Anderson said, pressing the phone to his ear.
"Are you free tomorrow?" he added, rubbing his temple with his free hand, the stress weighing heavily on him.
"I'm coming out of retirement. There is something I need to investigate, and I think you'll be interested."
Anderson promptly hung up. Staring out from his front porch, he watched the night settle, his mind racing.
"Wow... Anderson. Never thought I'd see you sitting in my office again," the man behind the desk remarked, a friendly yet sarcastic grin creeping onto his face.
"Yeah, yeah, Luke. You know as well as I do, for me to be here means it must be serious," Anderson replied, a stern expression firmly taking hold of his face.
"Hmmm... I assume that is true. Then let's get to business. What is this... investigation you spoke about over the phone?" Luke asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You remember the incident 12 years ago? I know I specifically told you not to explain how you took care of it, for my conscience at the time couldn't take it. However, I need to know now. Something possibly even more dangerous has come up." Anderson put his hands on the desk, leaning in.
"You know what this means for you, right?" Luke asked, taking a sip of his freshly made coffee.
"Yes... like I said, I'm coming out of retirement. So yes, I know," Anderson replied, maintaining his stern expression.
Luke could tell; for his longtime comrade to be so serious, it meant something he deemed life-threatening must have occurred. The conviction in Anderson's eyes did not lie. This was serious.
"Very well," Luke said, lifting himself from his seat. "Twelve years ago, you and I, along with several others, were called by the CIA to examine and contain human specimens who were deemed 'beyond human.' These specimens were responsible for several years' worth of cold cases throughout the United States.
"Soon after you left our organization, the United States contacted us once again. We were charged to capture some of these specimens and breed them. The government wanted to experiment with their capabilities; they wanted super soldiers. So we did as we were told.
"We discovered that these specimens had different abilities based on their beliefs, and the strength of their conviction toward that particular belief. This determined how powerful a specimen was."
Anderson's eyes widened; he was horrified. How could the government experiment with the very creatures they swore to destroy? Was everything Anderson had seen from those monsters for nothing?
"I know what you're thinking," Luke added. "However, we have figured out a way to awaken these abilities in whomever we choose. The previous specimens we experimented on were natural-born. However, we have specimens of our own. Our very own agents."
Luke stood above Anderson, looking intently at him.
"You mean to say that you've tamed them?" Anderson asked, his mind racing.
"Anderson... I, too, am one now. They decided to make me the first artificial Awakener."
Anderson quickly jumped from his seat, his gaze turning deadly.
A still air quickly filled the room; Anderson felt a mix of peace and authority radiating from Luke. His very presence felt reassuring.
"Calm down," Luke said. "A specimen's demeanor and power are directly related to their beliefs. Mine is Justice. I'm not dangerous."
Luke slowly walked past Anderson, taking his seat at the head of the desk once more.
"So. I told you what you wanted to know. Now it's your turn. What is it you need help investigating?" Luke asked, his eyes sternly fixed on Anderson.
Anderson still had his doubts... however, he knew this was his only hope now. There was no going back.
"My... son... recently ran into some trouble. However, he had some disturbing things to say about it."
"Anderson," Luke cut him off. "If this is about a kid having a tantrum, you're wasting my time."
"Yes, but you know as well as I do, I wouldn't be stupid enough to waste your time if it was something trivial or easily explained," Anderson replied, keeping his sharp gaze on Luke.
"Fair enough," Luke smirked, gesturing for him to continue.
"My son came across an individual who he claims... severed his hand." Anderson leaned in. "But not only did he sever the hand—it was completely detached from the joints and tissue. Even the doctors couldn't explain it."
Luke's eyes sharpened; it sounded exactly like 12 years ago.
"I see why you came to me," Luke replied, looking down in contemplation. Then, shifting his gaze back toward Anderson, he asked, "Did... did your son have any other experiences after the matter?"
Luke's expression was serious, almost fearful.
Anderson knew exactly what Luke was thinking; this was the same thing they dealt with more than a decade ago. Had it come back to haunt them?
"I see you know what I'm getting at. Yes, he had experiences after the fact. Just like what we went through 12 years ago," Anderson confirmed, staring blankly at Luke.
"Alright. We have work to do. Get ready, Anderson. It's about time we face the skeletons in our closet," Luke said, sliding a badge across the desk.
Anderson picked up the badge. Etched into the metal was the symbol he knew all too well, along with the name of his past: The Black Water Association.
Anderson watched as the old, worn-down elevator made its way down each floor. His heart began to pound; after so many years, he was back. The elevator suddenly stopped, its doors sliding open after what felt like an eternity.
"Who's this handsome man?!" a voice cried out, quickly rushing over.
A loud sigh could be heard coming from Luke, like a dad dealing with his child. "Anderson, meet another artificial Awakener. Her name is Linda. She controls spirits, since she was a practicing medium before being Awakened." Luke explained, gesturing for them to shake hands.
"I see. Well, the pleasure is mine," Anderson replied, shaking Linda's hand firmly.
"Linda, from now on you listen to Anderson as you would me. He was the old colleague I spoke of before," Luke said, his face stern and authoritative.
"Aye, aye, Captain!" Linda exclaimed, stepping back a little. "So, what's on today's agenda, Boss?" she asked, her eyes glistening with curiosity.
Luke's gaze turned toward Anderson. "Remember the piece of clothing I told you to bring? From your son?" Luke asked, his eyes still sternly fixed on him.
"Oh, yes, I have it here..." Anderson replied, pulling a pair of underwear from his back pocket.
"Anderson. What the hell is this? Out of anything you could have brought..."
Luke put a hand to his face. "You said you needed a piece of clothing intimate to him. I think this is pretty intimate, don't you?" Anderson cracked a wide, sarcastic smile.
"Ew, no way, Boss! You want me to use that?!" Linda exclaimed, covering her mouth.
Luke couldn't help but chuckle. "Unfortunately, this is all we have. We need you to look into James's memory so we can hopefully get some information on what happened," Luke stated, handing the underwear to Linda.
Linda reluctantly took them. Then, activating her abilities, she sent a spirit into James's memory. She became very still, almost statue-like.
"This creeps me out. How long does she stay like that?" Anderson asked, his eyes not leaving her.
"About thirty minutes," Luke replied, his hand on his chin.
Linda found herself on a stone path, dead trees lining the way. Above, the moon hung full and large—a deep, blood red.
She took a step; fear gripped her chest. She tried to summon other spirits, but to no avail. She had never failed to summon before. She sensed immediate danger.
"You're a beautiful young lady!" a voice exclaimed. Linda began frantically looking around. Where was it coming from? What was it?
"You know... breaking and entering is against the law... yet you break into my humble abode!" A sinister chuckle echoed. Finally, the speaker revealed himself.
Linda's body froze. There before her stood a clown, his sinister smile stretching from ear to ear. His presence felt elegant, yet otherworldly. His eyes bore into her—stern, focused, observing.
Crushing pressure began to take hold of her. "Fall," the clown commanded.
Her body refused to obey her will; it immediately dropped to its knees as if it had a mind of its own. She resisted, but felt nothing.
"Ohohoho!" The clown laughed hysterically. "You wanted to see so badly, huh... Very well. Have your fill."
The clown's voice suddenly turned deep, sinister, and stern.
Then, he flicked his fingers. Horror consumed her. She began screaming as her spirits scattered into the void, blood streaming from her eyes.
"AAAAAAHHHHH!" A blood-curdling scream echoed through the room.
Anderson and Luke quickly rushed to Linda. Her eyes were bloodshot and bleeding tears of crimson. She collapsed into Anderson's arms, unconscious.
"You said thirty minutes, right? It's only been five," Anderson stated, glaring at Luke.
"This... this confirms it. This is what we dealt with twelve years ago," Luke replied. For the first time, Anderson saw fear in Luke's eyes.
"I see what you did. You knew if this was the same monster we dealt with before, she wouldn't be capable of seeing it," Anderson said, looking down at the unconscious woman.
"I was hoping it was just an imitation. But we are dealing with the real thing," Luke admitted, his clenched hands shaking.
"Please come again!" a young woman exclaimed, waving goodbye.
"Thank you!" Sarah replied, taking the takeout order from the counter.
She started toward the door when suddenly she tripped over an untied shoelace, sending the previously neatly packed food crashing to the ground.
"Ow..." she mumbled, picking herself up.
"Miss, are you okay?" a smooth, calm voice asked, approaching her.
"Oh, yeah... just a scratch, thankfully," Sarah replied, brushing dust from her skirt.
"Here, let me help you with that." The man quickly began gathering the food.
"Oh, thank you so much..." Sarah said, looking at the older gentleman.
"Of course," the man replied, picking up the last takeout box. "The name is Anderson."
"Oh, I'm Sarah!" she exclaimed, taking the box from his hands.
Anderson paused. His hand lingered on the box for a split second. "Sarah?" he repeated, his eyes narrowing slightly. It was a common name... but after hearing his son scream it in the hospital, it struck a nerve.
"Uhm, yes! Thank you again for helping me, and making this less embarrassing," Sarah chuckled, oblivious to his hesitation.
Anderson shook off the thought. It was likely a coincidence. "Haha, no worries, young lady. Just glad it was only a scratch," Anderson replied, opening the door for her. "Take care now, dear."
"You too, sir!" Sarah exclaimed, walking out into the cool night air.
"Here's the food you wanted," Anderson said, placing the takeout bag on the hospital bed.
"Thanks, Dad," James's weak voice replied as Anderson sat down on the chair next to him.
James slowly reached his hand out, touching the bag. A whiff of perfume hit his face. He recognized this perfume; it was the exact scent Sarah wore the day he tried to harm her.
James's eyes widened; his heart began to race. Sweat trickled down his face as he spoke. "Dad... why do I smell perfume... on the bag?" James looked worriedly at his father.
"Haha, don't worry, James. I'm not getting frisky with anyone other than your mom," Anderson replied, a sarcastic smile creeping onto his face.
"Please... Dad... just answer the question."
Anderson was a bit taken aback. Why was his son so pale? Was he feeling okay? Was the trauma taking its toll?
"I helped a girl up after she fell," Anderson finally answered.
James grew paler, his heart beating faster. He asked, "Black hair...? Short and petite...?"
Anderson's eyes widened. This was a stretch, but was his son describing the girl he harassed? Was that the girl?
"Her name was Sarah," Anderson whispered, leaning in, closely watching his son's reaction.
James's face grew ghostly pale. His hands shaking, he looked at his father, tears rolling down his cheeks.
This was Anderson's answer. This was who his son was afraid of. Finally, a lead.
The restaurant door flew open. Anderson's eyes were sharp and focused.
"Sorry, sir, we are about to close—" But before the cashier could finish, Anderson flashed his badge.
"I need immediate access to your cameras," Anderson demanded. The girl didn't even hesitate; his badge, his demeanor—this was a legit Agent.
She quickly brought Anderson to the manager's office where the cameras were located. "Please let me know if you need help with anything, sir," the manager said, closing the office door behind him.
Anderson stayed quiet; the only thing on his mind was getting Sarah's face. Grabbing his phone, he dialed Luke's number.
"Luke, is Linda awake yet?"
"She woke up about three hours ago, but she's still a bit unstable," Luke replied curiously.
"Listen, I have a lead. I'm going to send you a picture of a girl. She's our number one suspect, confirmed by my son," Anderson added. Wasting no time, he quickly took a picture of the screen and sent it to Luke.
"Do you think Linda can get any information on this girl using her abilities?" Anderson asked, a hopeful tone in his voice.
"Yes, yes... I think we can get on it right away," Luke replied, his voice perking up. Finally, a lead.
"Send me the info after she's done. I'm going to keep digging," Anderson said, his eyes fixed on the camera monitor.
"Very well, talk to you as soon as possible," Luke replied, hanging up the phone.
Anderson jumped up from his seat. Opening the office door, he made his way back to where the manager was sitting.
"Excuse me. I need to look at today's transaction records. Specifically, any transactions belonging to the name 'Sarah'." Anderson asked, his stern expression giving the manager a chill.
"Uhm... yes, please give me a second," the manager replied, running back to his office.
"Here, I printed it out for you," the manager said, handing the records to Anderson.
Anderson's eyes widened; horror overtook his face. Then, regaining his composure, he instructed the manager, "You and your employees do not say a word about what happened here today. Understood?" Anderson's face beamed with authority and conviction.
"Yes sir, understood," the manager replied.
Anderson made his way back out the door, walking speedily toward his car. Anderson couldn't believe it. Her last name... the address. A sorrowful yet fearful expression overtook his face.
His thoughts were quickly interrupted by a vibration in his pocket. His phone continued to ring. Anderson held it, taking several deep breaths before finally answering.
"We have the info. We're sending it over now," Luke said sternly.
Anderson stood quietly, his mind still racing. Luke could feel that something was wrong; it wasn't like Anderson to stay so quiet unless he was either super focused... or disturbed.
"Anderson?" A concerned tone could be heard coming from the phone.
"I just found out that our lead... is a Garrett." Anderson's voice shook as he spoke.
"The Garrett we used to know? Zachariah Garrett?! You mean to tell me he had children?!" Luke exclaimed, his voice a mix of curiosity and fear.
"Yes... I knew he had children years ago. That is why I left after the incident—for my own sake..." Anderson replied, flashbacks playing in his mind.
"And you didn't bother to tell me?! All that time, and you left me in the dark!" Luke shouted, his voice filled with rage and fear.
"I know... however, it was his wish before the incident. Plus... I didn't want the government getting involved in the kids' lives," Anderson added, shaking a little.
"Well, you did the opposite! Now we have to get involved! If this suspect turns out to be who we are looking for, we could have avoided everything from the start!" Luke continued to shout, quickly hanging up the phone.
Anderson just sat in his car, looking through his windshield as memories began flooding in.
"We meet again, old friend..." he muttered to himself, starting his car.
Anderson stood there, his palms sweating, the moon shining bright against the house. Clenching his fists, he began walking toward the front door.
Anderson was afraid; the memories of the past began to haunt him once again. He reached out his hand, knocking slowly yet hard on the front door. Every second felt like a decade.
Sweat began to form on Anderson's face. The door finally opened; it was Sarah.
"Oh, hey sir! What brings you here...?" Sarah couldn't help but feel strange. This random stranger she met briefly now knew where she lived? Is he a stalker? Is he a creep? Am I just overthinking?
"I'm sorry... I know it's late, but is your mother home?" Anderson asked, a calm smile hiding his internal fear.
"Uhm, no... she went to get groceries. But my brother is home..." she replied, still cautious.
"Very well. May I speak to him?"
Right as Anderson muttered that question, Selim appeared behind Sarah, a sinister, almost wicked grin stretching from ear to ear.
Anderson was petrified. Not only did this child look just like his father, he gave off even more power than that thing. Anderson's heart felt like it was going to explode; he couldn't even speak. This was way worse than anything he had ever seen before. This being knew everything; it had planned this from the very beginning. Anderson was in the palm of its hand.
Anderson stumbled back, sweat dripping from his forehead.
"It's quite late, Anderson... Why don't you come inside?"
Selim's demeanor changed. It was authority—even more powerful and bone-chilling than Luke's.
Anderson's body moved on its own. He began to walk into the wonderful family home. His eyes glanced around frantically, watching everything.
Anderson took a seat. He didn't dare speak unless Selim gave him permission.
Sarah watched, her heart sinking. She remembered this version of her brother all too well; she knew this was serious. She could feel the immense pressure radiating from her brother, and the fear coming from Anderson. She did not dare speak; she only watched and observed.
"Anderson." Selim broke the silence. His elegance, combined with the terrifying pressure, horrified the older man. "I've been meaning to speak to you for a long while... however, here you are, sitting on my very own couch."
Selim continued, "That badge is sickening," pointing his index finger toward the badge strapped to Anderson's belt.
"It... represents... Justice... and balance. Of course... it would be sickening... to a monster like you..." Anderson replied, barely capable of speaking, the fear gripping every fiber of his being.
Selim's eyes narrowed. "How dare you... call on Justice when it's convenient? Or Balance, after you ran from your duties all those years ago?"
"Is that what you call Justice? Leaving your friend to die? Knowing full well his children would grow up fatherless? Or does Justice only apply when your own family is in danger?" Selim's voice radiated power; his face was stern and direct.
Anderson did not dare respond; his body forced him to stay put.
"You speak of Justice... yet the very ones you work with have told you nothing of their own backdoor dealings and wicked schemes."
Anderson's face became heavy. What was Selim saying? Was he just spewing nonsense to manipulate him? How would he know such a thing? Yet there was nothing normal about Selim to begin with. Anderson was terrified, confused, worried.
Just then, Anderson's phone began to ring. Anderson stood still, not daring to pick it up.
Selim began to slowly walk towards Anderson. Reaching into Anderson's pocket, he grabbed the phone, answering it promptly.
"You must be dear Luke," Selim said, a wicked grin slowly emerging on his face.
"Who is this?" Luke asked curiously.
"A ghost of the past," Selim replied, his grin becoming wider.
Luke's eyes widened. He turned to see Linda crying and shaking. She whispered, "That's him..."
"Where is Anderson?! What did you do to him?!"
"Don't worry... he is just fine. More than you will ever be," Selim replied, his grin vanishing into a stern, cold expression.
"I answered just to let you know..." Selim's voice became many—deepening, disturbing. "...that we see you."
Luke felt chills down his spine; a headache soon followed. The computer on Luke's desk immediately began glitching.
Then, Selim hung up the phone, tucking it neatly back into Anderson's pocket.
Sarah grew frantic. She knew very well that Selim could kill Anderson at any moment. Terror overwhelming her, she stepped up.
"Se-selim... please... don't kill him..." she muttered, hardly able to get the words out.
Selim paused, then calmly shifted his gaze to his beloved sister. "Dear sister... this man is the father of the boy who tried harming you." Selim's eyes fixed on Sarah.
"I... I don't care. He is not at fault—he's a good man. Please..."
Selim's eyes softened, and he smiled gently. "You, dear sister... have a heart of gold."
Turning toward Anderson once more, he continued, "Anderson... conviction without sincerity is weak. However... I see your heart. You do not lack such things, though your philosophy is quite fragile."
"Once you leave here... seek truth for yourself. Do not have conviction based on what's in the past. Find conviction in the present. Do not trust your environment immediately. Search out the truth, and it will be made clear."
Selim's stern expression vanished, his eyes becoming warm and charming. All the fear Anderson had been feeling evaporated.
"Why do you instruct your enemy?" Anderson asked, bewildered. Why did Selim instruct the very one who practically killed his father?
"Who said you're my enemy? Your friends? The ones who sit on their high horse of Justice while contradicting themselves in every action they take?" Selim continued. "No, Anderson. You're not my enemy. You were closer to a friend to my father than any of those other so-called 'friends'."
Selim's eyes and sincerity reminded Anderson of his father.
Sarah couldn't help but take in the scene. Was this monster of a brother she had seen up until this point all an act? Or was this the act? Was there still a bit of her old brother stashed away in there somewhere? She could see his elegance radiating, rippling through the whole room.
Anderson put his hands on his head. He was confused, more so now than he had been throughout his whole life. Everything he fought for up until this point seemed to be a lie.
However, his train of thought was interrupted by the front door slowly creeping open.
"Kids, I'm home!" their mom exclaimed, stepping into the house.
Sarah's eyes widened. This was the worst possible time for Mom to come home! What would she think once she saw this crazy scenario taking place in her very own living room?
Sarah quickly glanced toward Selim. Why was he so calm? What was he planning?
Anderson hardly moved; he was so broken he didn't care what happened at this point. Tears were still flowing down his face.
Debra stopped. Gripping her bag, she looked at Selim, her eyes a mix of fear and confusion. "Selim... who is this man?" Debra's voice was stern and direct.
Anderson remembered this voice. He quickly stood up. "Debra!" he exclaimed, quickly wiping the tears from his eyes.
Debra's eyes lit up, her previous stern and worried expression disappearing entirely. "Anderson?! Is that you?!" Debra ran to him, hugging Anderson tightly.
Sarah was absolutely confused. What in the world was she witnessing? How did her mom know this man? This random man she met by coincidence at a takeout place? This felt like fate.
"It's been too long, Debra!" Anderson said, his eyes tearing up as he remembered the wonderful memories he had with Debra and Zachariah.
"I can't believe it! All this time...! I thought you died alongside my husb—" She paused, clamping a hand over her mouth and looking toward her kids.
"It's okay, Mother... we know," Selim reassured her.
For the first time, their mother wasn't just their mother. She was Debra, mourning her dead lover. Tears welling up, she broke down in the arms of her old friend, Anderson.
"I hope it's to your liking!" Debra exclaimed, placing a plate in front of Anderson.
Anderson was having second thoughts. In the heat of the moment, he had agreed to stay. However, now that his emotions had calmed, anxiety took hold.
Sarah sat across from Anderson, staring sharply at Selim. She was still trying to wrap her head around what just happened. Her father? How does Selim know anything about Father? And why did he never care enough to tell me? Was life just a big game to him? She was angry and confused.
Selim walked from the kitchen, pulled out a chair, and calmly sat down, smiling innocently as his mother served his plate. Finally, after Debra had served everything, she sat down too.
Anderson gazed at Selim, bewildered and conflicted.
"Seems Selim has a lot of fans!" Debra joked.
Both Anderson and Sarah realized they were staring at Selim.
"Ah, sorry. He just looks so much like his father..." Anderson replied, masking his anxiety.
Sarah stayed quiet; she was in no mood to speak.
"So, Anderson, it's been so long! What have you been up to these past... what? Ten or so years?" Debra asked, radiating curiosity.
"Ah... it's been twelve years..." Anderson stated, correcting her.
"You even kept track? Well, I suppose you were always good at that kind of thing..." Debra chuckled. "Yeah... I suppose so."
As they began talking, Selim stood up and moved toward Anderson, pretending to refill a glass. He leaned down, whispering into Anderson's ear. "Your welcome is over now... When the phone rings, use that as your ticket out of the house."
Selim pulled back and returned to his seat. Anderson was shaken. Fear gripped him. Selim was getting impatient, and Anderson wanted nothing to do with that monster—at least, not tonight.
"What was that about, Selim?" Debra asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, nothing, Mother... just letting Anderson know he's quite the lucky man," Selim replied with a smirk.
"Really? Lucky how?" Debra was curious; her son rarely spoke so highly of anyone.
"He's lucky that he is alive." Selim's eyes were sternly fixed on Anderson, his demeanor sharp.
Anderson knew very well that was a warning; a chill ran down his spine. Just then, his phone rang. Anderson took the cue.
"Sorry, Debra... I have to go. Duty calls," Anderson said, guilt heavy in his voice.
"Well, that's too bad! Let me at least see you out!" Debra replied, quickly getting up from her chair.