Stellar - Planet Venus: Part Three (Chapter Nine)
If you are reading Stellar for the first time, here are the previous chapters:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
“Well, we’re here,” Gina said, rubbing her hands along her arms. The air had gotten colder, sending a quiet chill down into Peter’s joints. They stood in front of a small house, one just as covered in dust as the rest of the planet. There weren't any shrubs or flowers to decorate its front like many of the houses nearby, giving it an eerie, haunted look.
"You live here?" Peter asked, turning to Gina.
She nodded, squaring her shoulders as she approached the front step. Before Peter could ask her if it was safe to just walk in together, she said: "He won't be back for a few hours. Works nights down at the grocery."
Peter nodded, taking a few hesitant steps behind Gina. The dust seemed even thicker here, irritating his nose and sinuses. Maybe it was sand -- Peter could no longer tell. Either way, he watched as Gina opened the door quietly, it squealing on its hinges and announcing their arrival. When they stepped inside, the chill grew heavier, squeezing his breath from his lungs.
The inside of the small house was sparsely decorated, hardly any picture frames or other artwork adorning the walls. The barrenness of the place caused Peter's stomach to twist. "Not very homey, is it?" he asked, placing his hands in his pockets.
Gina didn't respond, and instead hung up her apron in the small closet beside the door. She dusted her hands off on her pants and walked towards the small dining room. "You don't gotta stay with me, Pete," she said, pulling out a chair and sitting down on it. "You got more important things to do."
Peter shook his head, settling in the seat beside her. He grabbed her hand and squeezed. "I didn't do anything to help you when you were alive, Gi. I gotta make that up to you."
Gina opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again and looked away from Peter. "What're you even planning on doing, Pete? It ain't like you can just kill him. I told you I already tried that."
"But maybe it only works if someone else kills him," Peter insisted, leaning in close. "Maybe you can't kill him, but I can. Isn't it worth a shot, at least? If it works, you'll be free of him and I'll know you won't get hurt any more."
"Ain't it against the rules of the Challenge, though?" Gina asked, her voice hardly louder than a whisper. "I mean, aren't you trying to get into Heaven?"
Peter slowly straightened himself out, letting go of Gina's hand. His hand trailed over the table, noticing the notches carved into it as he did so. "I -- I hadn't thought about that."
"'Course you haven't, Pete," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. She sighed, doing her hands into her lap. "You weren't never one for thinking much,” she continued, offering him a quiet smile.
“I think all the time, Gi,” he murmured, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked away from her, scratching the back of his neck. “Sometimes I just think too damn much and don’t do anything.”
“It wasn’t your fault I got killed, Pete,” Gina said, this time her voice stronger, more forceful. “You didn’t know what was happening and I didn’t tell you. So stop thinking it’s your fault.”
Peter didn’t say anything in response, draping one arm over the table. He tapped his fingers against it, pulling his other hand away from his neck. “How’re we gonna do this?”
“Don’t got any clue,” Gina said, shaking her head. “This was your idea. I been trying to stop you all day. I guess you’ll be needing a weapon of some sort.”
Peter nodded, turning his attention towards the table. He frowned in thought, lips pursing together for a moment before settling against one another. As he looked around the small dining room, he tried to think of how he wanted to do this. His heart thumped in his chest, picking up its pace as he got up from his seat to get a better sense of the house. “You got something I can hit him with?” he asked.
“He’s got a baseball bat in closest, if you think that’ll work,” Gina answered, frowning. “It’s in the closest by the door.”
Without another word, Peter headed towards the front door, opening the closest door beside it. The bat sat innocently in the corner, resting on its head. He picked it up, judging the weight and heft of it. Knocking someone out with it should be possible -- if he hit the man hard enough.
Another chill rolled down his spine, feeling like a thousand thin legs dipped in ice. Still, he wrapped his fingers around the handle, giving the bat a few slow practice swings. It felt right in his hand despite the quickening pace of his heart. It almost didn’t matter to him, if this made him an outcast amongst the Challengers.
He had been too slow to act, before. And now? Now, he was getting a second chance. As he swung the bat again, this time with a little more force than before, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall opposite of the closest. It was a small, decorative piece, one that didn’t show a whole lot, but he saw the hateful grimace on his features -- the fury hiding behind his eyes.
Was he really doing this for her?
***
Jordan shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. He stood just outside the doors to a public bathroom, his arms crossed over his chest. He’d pace, but that would garner him even more attention than he was already getting. Women stared at him, their eyes narrowed and suspicious.
“Sorry about that,” Megumi said, snapping Jordan’s attention over to her. She gave him an apologetic smile and lifted her hand, revealing a second band around her right middle finger. “Now we just need to get you yours.”
Jordan smiled back. “That -- you actually got a ring for helping that girl out with --?” He couldn’t even say it, not without his face growing warm again. A young girl, maybe about eleven, popped out of the bathroom, giving Megumi a tight squeeze before running off.
“She thought she was dying!” Megumi exclaimed, trying to keep her voice quiet. She threaded her arm through Jordan’s, pulling him away from the public restroom. “She didn’t even know what a period was until I told her.”
“I don’t -- look, I don’t wanna know, alright? I’m just glad you got your ring,” Jordan said, his face burning even hotter. He pulled away from her, putting distance between the two of them. “Now we just need to get me a ring, too, and then we can head back,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Megumi giggled, loosely wrapping her arms around herself as she walked a few steps behind him. “How much time do we have left, anyway? The sun doesn’t seem to ever go down around here -- and I know we’ve been walking around for at least a few hours, now.”
Jordan looked towards the rust colored sky and frowned. He then glanced at his watch, frowning slightly. “Is that -- is that a countdown? Or is time moving backwards?”
Megumi frowned herself before glancing down at her watch. “I don’t know. My watch cleared itself,” she said.
Jordan blinked. “That’s -- that didn’t happen when I got my ring, last time. Are you sure it cleared out?”
“Yeah, here, take a look,” Megumi said, offering him her wrist. He put his wrist beside hers, glancing between the two watches. Megumi’s watch was completely blank, no numbers or blinking lights. On Jordan’s, the numbers continued to climb backwards. “It says you only have twenty-four hours,” she murmured, her brow furrowing. “Have we already been on Venus for that long?”
“I don’t -- I don’t think we have,” Jordan muttered, pulling his wrist away. He shoved his hands in his pockets again, heading off towards the train. “Maybe you should go on ahead and go back the way we came, Meg. That way you can make sure you get on the train in time.”
Megumi pursed her lips together, her heels clicking quietly against the concrete as they walked. “You gonna be okay if I do?” she asked, catching her bottom lip underneath her teeth.
“Yeah, I should be fine,” Jordan said, smiling. “I’m sure I can find someone to help.”
Megumi stopped walking as she pursed her lips together. “Alright. I’ll see you on the train, Jordan.”
Jordan nodded, watching as she began to turn down another street. He rubbed his arm, noticing a chill in the air as she walked away. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around him. Sighing, Jordan walked back towards the bathrooms. Maybe one of the women there needed help with something.
Except he didn’t make it that far, not with police sirens blaring and flying around the corner. The smell of burning rubber invaded his nose, thick and choking. Without thinking, he started off after the cars, knowing that there’d be no way he’d catch up to them. But maybe, just maybe --
When he rounded the corner, the city buildings gave way to more suburban ones, small houses with decorated and well-manicured lawns. The police stood outside of one such house, their hands on their weapons, which were still holstered. A man with a baseball bat could be seen from just inside the doorway.
Jordan’s stomach dropped to the floor. Something didn’t sit right in it, either, as it twisted and turned. He tasted ash in his mouth as it had suddenly gone dry. He didn’t recognize the man standing with the bat. But another man -- and a woman, Jordan realized, were shouting from inside the house. He could hear their voices, loud and shrill, as they screamed for help and howled in pain.
He didn’t want to watch the scene unfold. Slowly, he backed away from the scene. He could hear the cops shout instructions, and the sound of gunfire ricocheting through the air once he turned his back.
“What do you think’s going on over there?” a woman asked from his left, stepping onto the thin walkway from the door of her home to the street.
“Dunno,” Jordan answered, blinking at her. He moved towards her, pulling his hands out of his pockets. He studied the scene once more, noticing that the man with the baseball bat was now being dragged through the yard, his hands bound behind his back. Jordan’s eyes widened; the thinning ashy blond hair on the man’s head seemed familiar.
“Would you mind staying with me, for the next few hours -- at least until the cops come by to ask questions?” the woman asked, shivering against the nonexistent wind. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly and shivered. “I think he might have killed someone.”
Jordan blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m -- I’m just a kid, ma’am. And you just met me -- I wouldn’t wanna impose...”
The woman offered him a soft smile. “I can give you something to eat,” she said, her eyes lightening up some. “It’s not a problem at all -- you’d really be doing me a favor. I’ve -- I’ve been robbed before, and it looks like they were robbed. So... please?”
Jordan nodded. “Alright,” he said, walking over to her. “I’ll stay as long as I can -- and you don’t gotta worry about feeding me, either.”
She laughed, heading back towards the door. As she opened it, she held it for him, waiting for him at the top of the step. Jordan’s hand wrapped around the handle as he took a hesitant step inside. His eyes drifted over the scene once again, dread building in the pit of his stomach as the police brought the two victims out from the home.
It was the woman he had seen Peter with, earlier that day. Ambulances lined up, one behind the other, on the street. Jordan looked away again, his eyes catching on the glinting of his finger. He knew he needed to look for another ring, but that could wait.
As he stepped inside the woman’s house, he shook his head and thought to himself: Peter, what the hell did you just do?
He soon found out. The woman flipped on the television and turned it on straight to the news report. One man dead, and a woman attacked. Except with the way Peter had treated the woman -- and that was definitely her on the television screen, bloody and shaken up -- Jordan didn’t think Peter had hurt her. Maybe the other man had -- but who killed the other man?
The reporter stood just outside the front door. Jordan’s gaze moved beyond him, noticing the broken mirror on the floor. Jordan didn’t even hear the words leaving the reporter’s mouth as he then moved away from the door and walked towards the woman who now had a blanket wrapped around her. Gina, Jordan recalled. Her name was Gina.
“Peter just wanted me to get away,” Gina sobbed into her hands. “Wanted for me -- for me to be free again.”
Jordan put his head in his hands. The woman sitting next to him placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “The police’ll be here soon to ask questions,” she said quietly. “Perhaps you should go.”
“But -- you asked me to stay with you,” he said, his eyebrows bunching together.
“I’ll be fine, young man. You’ve done enough to help settle my nerves,” she said, smiling warmly at him. “I think you’ve got other places to be, that’s all.”
Jordan blinked, but nodded as he got up from his seat. “Thank you,” he said, smiling at her.
It was only when he went to open the front door that he noticed the ring shining on his middle finger.
Next Chapter
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
“Well, we’re here,” Gina said, rubbing her hands along her arms. The air had gotten colder, sending a quiet chill down into Peter’s joints. They stood in front of a small house, one just as covered in dust as the rest of the planet. There weren't any shrubs or flowers to decorate its front like many of the houses nearby, giving it an eerie, haunted look.
"You live here?" Peter asked, turning to Gina.
She nodded, squaring her shoulders as she approached the front step. Before Peter could ask her if it was safe to just walk in together, she said: "He won't be back for a few hours. Works nights down at the grocery."
Peter nodded, taking a few hesitant steps behind Gina. The dust seemed even thicker here, irritating his nose and sinuses. Maybe it was sand -- Peter could no longer tell. Either way, he watched as Gina opened the door quietly, it squealing on its hinges and announcing their arrival. When they stepped inside, the chill grew heavier, squeezing his breath from his lungs.
The inside of the small house was sparsely decorated, hardly any picture frames or other artwork adorning the walls. The barrenness of the place caused Peter's stomach to twist. "Not very homey, is it?" he asked, placing his hands in his pockets.
Gina didn't respond, and instead hung up her apron in the small closet beside the door. She dusted her hands off on her pants and walked towards the small dining room. "You don't gotta stay with me, Pete," she said, pulling out a chair and sitting down on it. "You got more important things to do."
Peter shook his head, settling in the seat beside her. He grabbed her hand and squeezed. "I didn't do anything to help you when you were alive, Gi. I gotta make that up to you."
Gina opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again and looked away from Peter. "What're you even planning on doing, Pete? It ain't like you can just kill him. I told you I already tried that."
"But maybe it only works if someone else kills him," Peter insisted, leaning in close. "Maybe you can't kill him, but I can. Isn't it worth a shot, at least? If it works, you'll be free of him and I'll know you won't get hurt any more."
"Ain't it against the rules of the Challenge, though?" Gina asked, her voice hardly louder than a whisper. "I mean, aren't you trying to get into Heaven?"
Peter slowly straightened himself out, letting go of Gina's hand. His hand trailed over the table, noticing the notches carved into it as he did so. "I -- I hadn't thought about that."
"'Course you haven't, Pete," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. She sighed, doing her hands into her lap. "You weren't never one for thinking much,” she continued, offering him a quiet smile.
“I think all the time, Gi,” he murmured, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked away from her, scratching the back of his neck. “Sometimes I just think too damn much and don’t do anything.”
“It wasn’t your fault I got killed, Pete,” Gina said, this time her voice stronger, more forceful. “You didn’t know what was happening and I didn’t tell you. So stop thinking it’s your fault.”
Peter didn’t say anything in response, draping one arm over the table. He tapped his fingers against it, pulling his other hand away from his neck. “How’re we gonna do this?”
“Don’t got any clue,” Gina said, shaking her head. “This was your idea. I been trying to stop you all day. I guess you’ll be needing a weapon of some sort.”
Peter nodded, turning his attention towards the table. He frowned in thought, lips pursing together for a moment before settling against one another. As he looked around the small dining room, he tried to think of how he wanted to do this. His heart thumped in his chest, picking up its pace as he got up from his seat to get a better sense of the house. “You got something I can hit him with?” he asked.
“He’s got a baseball bat in closest, if you think that’ll work,” Gina answered, frowning. “It’s in the closest by the door.”
Without another word, Peter headed towards the front door, opening the closest door beside it. The bat sat innocently in the corner, resting on its head. He picked it up, judging the weight and heft of it. Knocking someone out with it should be possible -- if he hit the man hard enough.
Another chill rolled down his spine, feeling like a thousand thin legs dipped in ice. Still, he wrapped his fingers around the handle, giving the bat a few slow practice swings. It felt right in his hand despite the quickening pace of his heart. It almost didn’t matter to him, if this made him an outcast amongst the Challengers.
He had been too slow to act, before. And now? Now, he was getting a second chance. As he swung the bat again, this time with a little more force than before, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall opposite of the closest. It was a small, decorative piece, one that didn’t show a whole lot, but he saw the hateful grimace on his features -- the fury hiding behind his eyes.
Was he really doing this for her?
***
Jordan shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. He stood just outside the doors to a public bathroom, his arms crossed over his chest. He’d pace, but that would garner him even more attention than he was already getting. Women stared at him, their eyes narrowed and suspicious.
“Sorry about that,” Megumi said, snapping Jordan’s attention over to her. She gave him an apologetic smile and lifted her hand, revealing a second band around her right middle finger. “Now we just need to get you yours.”
Jordan smiled back. “That -- you actually got a ring for helping that girl out with --?” He couldn’t even say it, not without his face growing warm again. A young girl, maybe about eleven, popped out of the bathroom, giving Megumi a tight squeeze before running off.
“She thought she was dying!” Megumi exclaimed, trying to keep her voice quiet. She threaded her arm through Jordan’s, pulling him away from the public restroom. “She didn’t even know what a period was until I told her.”
“I don’t -- look, I don’t wanna know, alright? I’m just glad you got your ring,” Jordan said, his face burning even hotter. He pulled away from her, putting distance between the two of them. “Now we just need to get me a ring, too, and then we can head back,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.
Megumi giggled, loosely wrapping her arms around herself as she walked a few steps behind him. “How much time do we have left, anyway? The sun doesn’t seem to ever go down around here -- and I know we’ve been walking around for at least a few hours, now.”
Jordan looked towards the rust colored sky and frowned. He then glanced at his watch, frowning slightly. “Is that -- is that a countdown? Or is time moving backwards?”
Megumi frowned herself before glancing down at her watch. “I don’t know. My watch cleared itself,” she said.
Jordan blinked. “That’s -- that didn’t happen when I got my ring, last time. Are you sure it cleared out?”
“Yeah, here, take a look,” Megumi said, offering him her wrist. He put his wrist beside hers, glancing between the two watches. Megumi’s watch was completely blank, no numbers or blinking lights. On Jordan’s, the numbers continued to climb backwards. “It says you only have twenty-four hours,” she murmured, her brow furrowing. “Have we already been on Venus for that long?”
“I don’t -- I don’t think we have,” Jordan muttered, pulling his wrist away. He shoved his hands in his pockets again, heading off towards the train. “Maybe you should go on ahead and go back the way we came, Meg. That way you can make sure you get on the train in time.”
Megumi pursed her lips together, her heels clicking quietly against the concrete as they walked. “You gonna be okay if I do?” she asked, catching her bottom lip underneath her teeth.
“Yeah, I should be fine,” Jordan said, smiling. “I’m sure I can find someone to help.”
Megumi stopped walking as she pursed her lips together. “Alright. I’ll see you on the train, Jordan.”
Jordan nodded, watching as she began to turn down another street. He rubbed his arm, noticing a chill in the air as she walked away. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked around him. Sighing, Jordan walked back towards the bathrooms. Maybe one of the women there needed help with something.
Except he didn’t make it that far, not with police sirens blaring and flying around the corner. The smell of burning rubber invaded his nose, thick and choking. Without thinking, he started off after the cars, knowing that there’d be no way he’d catch up to them. But maybe, just maybe --
When he rounded the corner, the city buildings gave way to more suburban ones, small houses with decorated and well-manicured lawns. The police stood outside of one such house, their hands on their weapons, which were still holstered. A man with a baseball bat could be seen from just inside the doorway.
Jordan’s stomach dropped to the floor. Something didn’t sit right in it, either, as it twisted and turned. He tasted ash in his mouth as it had suddenly gone dry. He didn’t recognize the man standing with the bat. But another man -- and a woman, Jordan realized, were shouting from inside the house. He could hear their voices, loud and shrill, as they screamed for help and howled in pain.
He didn’t want to watch the scene unfold. Slowly, he backed away from the scene. He could hear the cops shout instructions, and the sound of gunfire ricocheting through the air once he turned his back.
“What do you think’s going on over there?” a woman asked from his left, stepping onto the thin walkway from the door of her home to the street.
“Dunno,” Jordan answered, blinking at her. He moved towards her, pulling his hands out of his pockets. He studied the scene once more, noticing that the man with the baseball bat was now being dragged through the yard, his hands bound behind his back. Jordan’s eyes widened; the thinning ashy blond hair on the man’s head seemed familiar.
“Would you mind staying with me, for the next few hours -- at least until the cops come by to ask questions?” the woman asked, shivering against the nonexistent wind. She wrapped her arms around herself tightly and shivered. “I think he might have killed someone.”
Jordan blinked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m -- I’m just a kid, ma’am. And you just met me -- I wouldn’t wanna impose...”
The woman offered him a soft smile. “I can give you something to eat,” she said, her eyes lightening up some. “It’s not a problem at all -- you’d really be doing me a favor. I’ve -- I’ve been robbed before, and it looks like they were robbed. So... please?”
Jordan nodded. “Alright,” he said, walking over to her. “I’ll stay as long as I can -- and you don’t gotta worry about feeding me, either.”
She laughed, heading back towards the door. As she opened it, she held it for him, waiting for him at the top of the step. Jordan’s hand wrapped around the handle as he took a hesitant step inside. His eyes drifted over the scene once again, dread building in the pit of his stomach as the police brought the two victims out from the home.
It was the woman he had seen Peter with, earlier that day. Ambulances lined up, one behind the other, on the street. Jordan looked away again, his eyes catching on the glinting of his finger. He knew he needed to look for another ring, but that could wait.
As he stepped inside the woman’s house, he shook his head and thought to himself: Peter, what the hell did you just do?
He soon found out. The woman flipped on the television and turned it on straight to the news report. One man dead, and a woman attacked. Except with the way Peter had treated the woman -- and that was definitely her on the television screen, bloody and shaken up -- Jordan didn’t think Peter had hurt her. Maybe the other man had -- but who killed the other man?
The reporter stood just outside the front door. Jordan’s gaze moved beyond him, noticing the broken mirror on the floor. Jordan didn’t even hear the words leaving the reporter’s mouth as he then moved away from the door and walked towards the woman who now had a blanket wrapped around her. Gina, Jordan recalled. Her name was Gina.
“Peter just wanted me to get away,” Gina sobbed into her hands. “Wanted for me -- for me to be free again.”
Jordan put his head in his hands. The woman sitting next to him placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. “The police’ll be here soon to ask questions,” she said quietly. “Perhaps you should go.”
“But -- you asked me to stay with you,” he said, his eyebrows bunching together.
“I’ll be fine, young man. You’ve done enough to help settle my nerves,” she said, smiling warmly at him. “I think you’ve got other places to be, that’s all.”
Jordan blinked, but nodded as he got up from his seat. “Thank you,” he said, smiling at her.
It was only when he went to open the front door that he noticed the ring shining on his middle finger.
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