28. Mira & Abigail
Abigail burst out of the inn, her breath coming in quick gasps. Her heart raced, pounding faster than usual. Arche, whom she had just left a few minutes ago, had vanished without a trace. This couldn't be happening. He wouldn't just run away, and her thoughts immediately went to the one person she found highly suspicious: Mira.
Beside her, Lilith's drone hovered, its voice resonating through the small device connected to it.
"We need to report this to Jack immediately," Lilith said firmly, suggesting the only logical course of action.
Abigail stared at the drone, trying to calm herself as she nodded quickly. "Yes, I agree. We don't have time to waste." Without a second thought, she rushed to grab their motorbike parked not far from the inn. Lilith, in her drone form, zipped after her, and Abigail sped toward their hideout with full throttle.
Their base was located in a shadowy corner of Nexus Port City. It appeared ordinary from the outside, but inside, it housed cutting-edge technology and secrets used by their organization. Once they arrived, Abigail abruptly halted the bike, disregarding proper parking etiquette, and dashed inside, slipping through the automatic door that opened with motion sensors.
Upon entering, she was greeted by Jack, who sat casually at a desk cluttered with holographic devices. The holograms displayed maps of the city, highlighting important routes and strategic locations throughout Nexus Port City. He lazily puffed on a lit cigarette, his demeanor too relaxed for the current crisis.
Jack looked up when he spotted Abigail and the drone. "Hey, Abigail! You look rushed. What's going on? Is there a problem?" he asked, his tone casual, completely oblivious to the panic etched across Abigail's face.
Abigail held her breath, trying to suppress the tumult of emotions bubbling inside her. "Jack, please, no small talk. This is an emergency," she said, her tone firm, though it trembled slightly. "Arche… he's gone."
Jack's expression shifted from casual to serious in an instant. He quickly extinguished his cigarette and stood up. "Gone? Since when?" His voice turned serious and alert.
Lilith took over the explanation. "We believe he's been kidnapped. And the most likely culprit is Mira Arnvelt."
"Mira?" Jack raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the name. "That crazy girl again?" He sighed heavily and looked at Abigail. "Why am I not surprised?"
Abigail bit her lip, feeling both angry and worried. "It's our fault for bringing Arche here. I should have been more vigilant," she muttered.
"Calm down, Abigail," Jack said as he moved toward a door on one side of the room. "If Mira did this, I know where her hideout is. Let's go check it out."
Without wasting a moment, Jack and Abigail, followed by Lilith's drone, rushed toward the back room of their hideout that Mira often used. The door was always locked, accessible only to Jack and Lilith. Jack quickly unlocked it with his fingerprint, and as the door swung open, they were met with a chilling sight.
The walls of the room were covered in deep, scratchy markings. The name "Arche" was scrawled repeatedly, and his face appeared in several places—only to be marred with cross marks gouged by sharp objects, possibly a knife or scissors. In another corner were darker images, like distorted portraits of Abigail, similarly defaced. The scratches were deep, clearly indicating a dangerous obsession.
Abigail fell silent, her face draining of color. "This... this isn't just a normal obsession..." she murmured. Clenching her fists tightly, she fought to suppress the rising dread coursing through her.
Jack squinted, studying the walls with a serious expression. "I should have kept a closer eye on her," he said, his voice filled with regret. "I knew she had issues, but I didn't think it would escalate to this level."
Lilith spoke up again, her tone sharper now. "We all know Mira is unstable, but I didn't expect her to go this far. It's clear she has issues with Abigail... and now with Arche."
"This is my fault," Abigail said again, her eyes still fixed on the strange scratches on the wall. "I should have been more cautious. Arche shouldn't have been brought here. It's all our fault."
Jack turned to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Don't blame yourself. We all share the responsibility. We will find Arche, I promise." His voice was sincere, though concern was evident on his face.
Abigail took a deep breath. "But Mira... she's too obsessed. If she really has taken Arche, we can't predict what she might do. We don't know how far she'll go."
Jack nodded, understanding the weight of the situation. "That's why we need to act fast." He moved toward the communication devices in the room, activating a detailed holographic map of Nexus Port City. "I'll track any signals from Mira or her hideout. Lilith, can you assist me?"
"Of course," Lilith replied from her drone. "I'll tap into the city network to see if there's any trace of Mira's activity. She can't be far."
Abigail stared at the holographic display, a deep sense of worry etched across her face. "I can't forgive myself if something happens to Arche," she murmured softly, almost as if to herself.
Jack heard her and met her gaze earnestly. "We'll find him, Abigail. And when we do, Mira will be held accountable for her actions. Trust me."
Abigail nodded slowly, though her mind was still clouded with dark possibilities regarding Arche's fate. Mira was not just a crazy girl—she was a very real threat, and her twisted obsession with Abigail only complicated matters further.
"We need to move quickly," Lilith urged again, her voice resolute. "Before things get any worse."
Abigail took a deep breath, steeling herself for the next steps. She knew time was running out. Arche might be in serious danger, and only they could save him.
***
In the small village of Greyfield, perched on a lush and serene hillside, there lived a little girl named Mira. With her tangled hair and perpetually solitary gaze, she played at the edge of the forest. Unlike the other children, who gleefully raced across the meadows, laughing and playing tag or hide-and-seek, Mira found joy in collecting small, lifeless animals along the forest's edge. She carefully gathered them, tenderly cleaning their fur or scales, as if they were still alive and could converse with her.
One day, as the village children gathered in the meadow to play, Mira approached with a small smile on her face. In her hands, she cradled a tiny dead bird she had found lying near the river that morning. She cautiously moved toward the group.
"Hey... I found this this morning. Want to see?" Mira extended the small bird toward Tom, the boy who often led their games.
Tom, busy laughing with his friends, turned and was taken aback by what Mira was holding. "What is that?!" he exclaimed, his voice rising in shock.
"It's a little dead bird. Isn't it beautiful? Its feathers are still soft," Mira said, her smile filled with hope that Tom and the others would be intrigued and invite her to play.
Instead, Tom recoiled in horror. "You're so weird! Who wants to play with a corpse?!" He waved his arms at his friends, who quickly echoed his sentiments, screaming and running away.
"You're horrible!" shouted a girl, pointing at Mira. "You like creepy things!"
Mira stood frozen, watching the other children flee from her. Her chest tightened, as if her small heart were being crushed. "I... I just wanted to play," she whispered, but her voice was drowned out by the laughter and terrified screams of the retreating kids.
Tears welled in her eyes, and she quickly made her way back to the one place she felt safe—the orphanage at the edge of the village, where she had grown up. There, Mother Seraphine always offered warm hugs and gentle smiles, a place where Mira felt loved without needing to be like the other children.
As Mira arrived at the orphanage door, Seraphine, who was tending to the flowers outside, immediately sensed her presence. The woman had dark hair that was beginning to gray and a face filled with kindness. Noticing Mira's tear-streaked cheeks, she knelt down and opened her arms wide.
"Mira, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Seraphine asked softly.
Mira ran into Seraphine's embrace, her sobs erupting. "They don't want to play with me, Mom... they always run away. They said I'm bad because I... because I like dead animals." She buried her face in her small hands, trying to hide the depth of her sadness.
Seraphine gently stroked Mira's back, offering the comfort she needed. "Mira, every child is different. They might not understand what you like, but that doesn't mean you're bad."
"But I just want friends. They don't want to be near me," Mira gazed at Seraphine, her eyes filled with tears, her voice barely above a whisper.
Seraphine smiled warmly and caressed Mira's hair. "You don't have to change to be accepted. They'll understand in time, or you will find people who appreciate you for who you are."
Mira nodded slowly, though doubts lingered in her heart. Why was she always pushed away? Why was she the only one seen as strange?
In the orphanage, Mira wasn't entirely alone. There were other children living there, but they often played together without including her. Although they never openly shunned her, they also never fully understood her. The kids frequently gathered at the dining table or in the backyard, reminiscing about their pasts, trying to remember where they had come from before being found by Mr. Eliphas and Seraphine.
"Mother Seraphine, where do we come from?" one boy once asked during dinner, his voice filled with curiosity.
Seraphine, busy preparing bread for the children, smiled softly. "You all come from the continent of Fertissio. My husband, Mr. Eliphas, found you when you were still small and brought you here. He couldn't let orphaned children like you survive alone in such a dangerous place."
"Fertissio?" another girl asked, her eyes wide. "That faraway continent? The one full of monsters?"
Seraphine nodded, still wearing the same gentle smile. "Yes, but you're safe here now. There's no need to worry about those bad things anymore."
While the other children may have found comfort in the story, Mira never cared much about where she came from. All she wanted was for others to play with her, to accept her as she was.
One night, as the other children slept, Mira lay awake, staring at the ceiling of the orphanage. In her hand, she clutched a dried flower she had found in the yard. It resembled the small animal carcasses she often collected—something that was no longer alive, but still beautiful to her.
"Why don't they understand?" she murmured softly to herself. "Why am I always alone?"
She knew that the small animals couldn't talk, but they also never ran away. They stayed with her, forever. They wouldn't reject her; they were always there to play with her, even if the other children kept their distance. For her, there was beauty in something silent that never turned away.
One day, Mira brought a tiny rabbit that had just died to the orphanage and placed it in the corner of her bed. She smiled gently, as if the creature were her friend.
"I won't be alone anymore," she whispered. Yet deep inside, Mira still felt a profound loneliness, a shadow that loomed over her despite her efforts to chase it away.
Seraphine often watched her from a distance, knowing that Mira was different. She loved Mira as if she were her own child, even though she couldn't fully grasp the little world Mira had built in her own mind. And among the other children, Mira remained a unique figure—someone who was not easily accepted but never gave up on seeking belonging.
As the evening sun began to dip behind the thick trees surrounding the village of Greyfield, it left behind a fading orange hue on the horizon. At the edge of the forest, Mira Arnvelt sat alone beneath an old tree, a small pile of dead animals before her. A sparrow, a tiny rabbit, and several insects lay motionless and lifeless. Mira's hands trembled as she brushed her fingers against the soft yet cold feathers of the bird, her eyes shimmering with tears.
"They won't leave me," she whispered to herself, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. "They can't run away. They will always be with me."
Her voice was hoarse and quivered with every word. Each time she spoke, the deep loneliness within her tightened its grip on her heart. The village children always shunned her, calling her the "weird girl" and laughing behind her back. No one understood her fascination with these dead creatures. To them, Mira was just a spooky girl.
As tears fell more heavily, memories of the children fleeing from her flashed through her mind. They always distanced themselves, and she could never understand why. These lifeless animals were the only ones that wouldn't abandon her, the only ones that remained quietly by her side.
While Mira was sobbing, a soft voice suddenly broke through her thoughts from behind. "Why are you collecting those dead things?"
Startled, Mira turned to see a girl with long white hair standing not far from her. The girl's eyes sparkled with curiosity, her face lacking the fearful expression that Mira usually saw from the other kids. The girl's presence surprised Mira.
"I... I don't want to say," Mira replied, her voice trembling as she quickly wiped her tears away. "If I tell you, you'll run away too. Just like the others."
The white-haired girl, who looked to be around Mira's age, huffed in annoyance and crossed her arms. "I won't run away," she said firmly. "Just tell me. I want to know."
Mira bit her lip, hesitating. "You'll definitely run... or laugh at me."
The girl stepped closer, bending down to meet Mira's gaze. "If you don't tell me, I'll be mad!" she said, her tone slightly insistent.
Mira's sobs intensified, tears flowing even more. "Why... why are you teasing me?" she cried. "I... I don't want to be bothered... I just want to play."
The white-haired girl was taken aback by Mira's escalating tears. Her initially serious expression softened with a hint of regret, and in a gentler voice, she tried to comfort Mira. "Hey... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tease you. I... I just wanted to know. I promise I won't run away," she said awkwardly, feeling guilty for making Mira cry.
Mira looked up, her wet eyes searching the girl's face for sincerity. "You promise?"
The girl nodded firmly. "Yes. I promise. I won't go away, no matter what you say."
With trembling hands, Mira slowly stopped crying and sat up straight, hugging her knees. She glanced down at the dead sparrow in her hand and, in a quiet voice, said, "These animals... they won't leave when they're dead. They will always be with me. They... they can't run away like the other kids."
The white-haired girl listened in silence to Mira's explanation, then suddenly let out a small laugh, catching Mira off guard as she turned to look at her.
"Ha, you're weird," the girl chuckled again, but her tone was not judgmental. "But you know, you don't have to collect those dead animals if all you want is a friend. You could play with the other kids; just leave them behind," she suggested, pointing to the pile of dead creatures near Mira.
Mira stared at the girl, confused. "They don't want to play with me... they all run away."
"I won't run away," the girl replied confidently. "I'm not scared of you."
Mira fell silent, her gaze shifting from the little bird in her hand back to the girl. The white-haired girl was different from the others. She didn't run, didn't scream in fear, and didn't laugh at her. She simply stood there, looking at Mira with genuine curiosity.
"What's your name?" the girl asked, her voice softer now.
Mira hesitated for a moment before answering. "Mira... Mira Arnvelt."
The girl smiled widely and extended her hand toward Mira. "I'm Abigail. Nice to meet you, Mira."
Mira was taken aback, staring at Abigail's outstretched hand. No one had ever introduced themselves to her this way, with an open hand and a friendly smile. Cautiously, Mira reached out, her hand trembling as it touched Abigail's.
"Why... aren't you scared of me?" Mira asked quietly, her eyes still filled with confusion.
Abigail pulled Mira to her feet. "Why should I be scared? You're just a little weird. But I get called weird too, so we can be friends."
Friends? That word sounded so foreign to Mira. Friendship was something she had always dreamed of but had never achieved. Yet this time, with Abigail's warm hand in hers, Mira felt something new blossom within her—a feeling that maybe she had finally found someone who wouldn't leave her.
"Come on," Abigail urged, pulling Mira away from the pile of dead animals. "We can play without them."
Mira followed Abigail's lead, glancing back at the small creatures that had accompanied her for so long. But for the first time, she felt like she could play with someone alive, not with the dead.
Abigail paused for a moment, turning to Mira with a small smile. "And if you need a friend again, I'll be there for you. Okay?"
Mira nodded slowly, a faint smile appearing on her face. "Okay... thank you, Abigail."
This was the beginning of an unusual friendship between two different girls who, in finding each other, began to transcend their own loneliness.
***