One day after Nicolas Hanais' girlfriend died, her funeral happened. It was early in the morning, the sun was just rising from the horizon.
In the cemetery, everyone was dressed in black. Everyone except a man who was wearing a white shirt and black pants. The shirt clinged to him like a child's and his slick black hair was shining under the sun.
Right beside him stood a man. He was wearing white shorts and t-shirt. Completely opposite of the occasion he attended.
Everyone avoided them, sweeping glances at them from a distance. They had all the rights to do so. After all, the first man was having a revolver strapped on its holster at his waist and the second one had his head full of bandages. Only a green eye could be seen from the left side of his head.
He was observing everything present at the funeral and even beyond it. Suddenly, he turned his head and faced the forest that covered the hill, outside of the cemetery, on his right. This simple action seemed to be unbearable for the man but his head remained still, looking at the forest as if searching for something.
His head was turned at a painful angle. His eye, wide open, was staring at a particular spot around two hundred meters away. After a full minute passed, he turned his head away. It seemed like he felt extreme pain in his neck as the bandages slowly gained a pale crimson color.
At that moment a silhouette moved between the trees of the forest.
*
Nicolas woke up in a dark place. He was sleeping on a somewhat uncomfortable bed, bathed in his own sweat.
Where am I?..
It took him a few minutes to sort out his thoughts. The last thing he remembered was talking with a lady after the car blew up. After his eyes got used to the darkness, he saw that he was inside an old room.
The wooden floor creaked as he got to his feet, almost hitting his head to a chandelier that was hanging a bit lower than it should. The room was decorated with nothing but a few portraits.
He finally found the lights of the room and opened them. He was at the living room of the shabby house. The mirror facing him reflected a sorry version of himself.
His hair was disheveled. His eyes were red, as if he hadn't slept for days. On his face band-aids were in multiple spots, small and large. His palms were covered with bandages and whenever he tried touching them pain assaulted him.
Outside the window, the sun hadn't risen yet. Since no one was around he took the opportunity to explore the rest of the house eventually stumbling upon a half open door. Inside, an old woman was sleeping soundly. Her white, night gown seemed out of place, like the ones worn back in the eighties.
The bed was designed for two people but right now held only a single woman. The dusty floor and furniture gave off the feeling that this house was abandoned.
Going back to the living room, he found his backpack. He had thought that he lost it but it was right beside the couch-bed he was sleeping on earlier. He then checked the things that were inside.
One thousand euros... Kitchen knives... My old phone... Even 'that' is still in here so no one has checked the bag.
He had to keep moving. Now wasn't the time to stay stationary. Now that he was in a bit better condition he had to move to a new hiding place. But before that...
I have to go to her funeral...
The only happiness in his life was her. Not his parents, not his friends or anyone else. He lived for her. But now, they had parted ways. The one with no knowledge of life living and the one most afraid of death dying.
Such a laughable contrast... I won't be able to even see her face one last time.
After all this time, he hadn't forgotten that he was a criminal. He would get arrested immediately if he approached any central area, so all he had to do was hide somewhere and watch the ceremony.
Okay, let's start. Right now.
He then proceeded to write on a piece of paper with a pencil two words.
""Thank you""
And placed fifty euros on top of it. After a second, he opened the door silently and left. The house became eerily quiet once again.
*
Present
"Wow those two are so menacing, I almost got caught. Especially that bandage guy. How the fuck did he know that I was h-..."
Nicolas stopped mid sentence. His eyes, widened slightly.
It's possible... and I know someone who can do that...but he was neither at school nor at home when I was there yesterday... Is that you or...have you died... Anastasis?...
The one he was referring to was his blood brother, Anastasis. After entering puberty they both realized that they could do some things better than normal people. Through training every day, every moment, from morning to night in their daily lives, they gained a single ability each.
Nicolas gained the ability to see what others were doing without turning his gaze to look at them directly. Anastasis had the ability to feel if someone was watching him. They both knew the other's ability even if they hadn't talked about it. But neither knew the other's capabilities.
"It seems like binoculars don't work on him...it must've been another person. He can't do something like that...I think."
Right now Nicolas was behind a large tree on top of a small hill. At the top, one could see all of Peristeri and its only cemetery at the bottom. From up here, he was planning to observe the funeral and witness the final moments before his girlfriend's body got buried, never to be seen again.
After a few minutes, the ceremony ended and everyone left. Some crying, others wearing grim expressions.
Nicolas was one of those people too. A few tears trickled down his face as he said with a low voice.
"Ah... I miss you... I hope to see you soon..."
Afterwards, more and more tears flowed from his eyes like a river. He covered his face with his hands. Even though it hurt him, he didn't feel pain, for his soul was already crashed under his own sadness.