Chapter 3: The First Prank
Night cloaked the camp, the air cool, heavy with woodsmoke and the sour tang of stale beer from Ed's tent, a stench that curled in Elias's nostrils like a warning. He crouched near the camp's edge, his breath shallow, the grass damp under his knees, its chill seeping through his jeans. His fingers fidgeted with a loose button on his cuff, a new tic that pulsed with his nerves, his throat dry, tasting of dust and the faint bitterness of coffee from earlier. The moon was a thin crescent, casting faint light over sagging tents, their canvas worn like old skin. Ed's voice, a low growl, echoed, berating Carol over a misplaced can—the peaches Elias had left. Anger flared, hot and sharp, a memory flashing—his neighbor, yelling at his wife, the air thick with fear. He's a bully, Elias thought, his fingers twisting the button, the tic relentless. And I'm done watching.
Elias focused, the ZACS HUD flickering blue, its snarky presence a cold hum in his mind. He sent a command to Z-001, "Karen," stationed near Carol's tent, her decayed form a shadow in the woods. A grin spread, mischief cutting through his anger, and he directed her to scatter Ed's firewood, the neat stack by his tent a target. The wood clattered, a soft, rhythmic thud, each piece hitting the dirt like a small rebellion, the sound sharp in the quiet night. Let's shake him up, he thought, his heart racing, the button twisting faster, a memory of a childhood prank flashing—his brother's laugh, the air light with mischief.
[SYSTEM: Passive Command: Move Object – 5 SP. Balance: 70. Pranks? Ed's not laughing, but the kids might. Good luck dodging his fists.]
The camp stirred, heads poking from tents, Carl's small face bright with a grin, Amy's giggle a soft echo. Ed's roar shattered the night, his voice thick with rage. "Carol! Where's my damn firewood?" he shouted, his boots stomping, the air heavy with his fury, the beer stench stronger now.
Carol's voice, soft but trembling, answered, "I didn't touch it, Ed. I swear." A sharp slap followed, wet and cruel, Carol's sob a knife in Elias's chest. His hand gripped his knife, knuckles white, his jaw tight, the button twisting in his fingers. He's a monster, he thought, a memory of his mother flinching at a raised voice flashing, her eyes shadowed with fear. He strode toward the tent, boots crunching gravel, his heart pounding, anger a hot pulse in his veins.
Rick and Shane were there, Rick's hand on Ed's shoulder, his voice calm but firm. "Ed, back off," he said, his eyes hard, his Southern drawl steady, the air around him smelling faintly of leather and gun oil. Shane stood back, arms crossed, his sneer sharp, his gaze flicking to Elias, suspicion burning.
"What's going on?" Elias asked, his voice low, dangerous, his eyes on Carol's red cheek, her hands trembling as she clutched Sophia, her small frame shivering.
Ed turned, his face red, his breath sour. "Stay out of my family, Kane," he said, his voice a snarl, his finger jabbing the air, the beer stench overwhelming.
Elias's lips curved, a cold smile, his fingers twisting the button. "Just checking the noise," he said, his voice light, mocking. "Thought it was a walker. Guess it's just you, huh?" Push him, he thought, his heart racing, the tic relentless, a memory of standing up to a bully flashing, the air thick with defiance.
Rick's hand tightened on Ed's shoulder, his voice sharper. "Enough, Ed," he said, his eyes flicking to Elias, a nod of thanks, his presence a steady anchor. "Let's all calm down."
Ed stormed off, muttering, dust trailing his steps. Elias knelt beside Carol, his voice soft, his eyes meeting hers, her gratitude a weight in his chest. "You okay?" he asked, his heart heavy, the air cool against his flushed skin.
"I'm fine," Carol said, her voice trembling but firm, her hands steadying, her eyes bright with a spark of strength. "Thank you, Elias."
Elias nodded, pride mixing with guilt, and sent a command to Z-002, "Steve," to guard Sophia's tent, the cost a small price for her safety. I'm changing things, he thought, a memory of his sister's smile flashing, the air warm with family. Rick caught his arm as he turned, his voice low, his eyes warm but cautious.
"Thanks, Elias," he said, his Southern drawl soft. "But, uh… maybe ease up on the tricks? We've got enough trouble."
Elias nodded, his fingers slowing, the tic fading for a moment. The prank had lifted spirits, Carl's grin and Amy's laugh a fleeting warmth, but Ed's anger was a storm cloud, a ripple of his actions he couldn't control. I'm walking a tightrope, he thought, the weight of his secrets growing, the camp's fragile hope a fire he'd have to tend with care, his heart heavy with the cost of his lies.
[SYSTEM: Passive Guard: Sophia – 5 SP/day. Balance: 65. Savior complex growing. Keep this up, and you'll be sainted by sunrise. Or dead.]
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