Trash: Chapter 98 A Biased Inspection (Patreon)

Chapter 98

A Biased Inspection

There is something humbling about the entry steps to high school. Even after living two lives, knowing that I have had not one, but two successful careers, or at least well on the way for a second one in this lifetime, I can’t quite get over the idea of being hesitant while stepping onto the steps that lead into my high school.

Today part of my reason for concern is the fact that once again, I am a normal student. A humbling effect if I have ever felt one. The second major concern is that now that I am here, I can see that there is a long and slowly moving line to enter the high school. A process that makes entering even more painful, if only for the fact that I can all but feel the tension and the teenage angst building around me.

Had I been by myself, I would have been fine. If I had friends, the process would be less painful, as I could easily just talk to the others and complain while we waited. But instead, all I could do was watch and wait as Narco and his handler Mr. Wallace stood guard over the door letting people in one at a time to go in, have a great golden light shine on them, at which point someone would call “clear,” from inside, then the next student would be called up to be flashed.

The reason for this was easy to discern, as we just had a breach of Death Eaters enter the city. Meaning that many people could still be holding a Death Eater and not know. Or maybe they did know and just wanted to let a Death Eater loose at school. Honestly, this would be the best place to release a Death Eater, even better than an arena filled with foreign dignitaries that were distracted by violence to notice the looming threat from under their feet. The only real difference being that here these were kids, many of whom didn’t even have a Class assigned to them, or any real badges locking in their completed Skills.  They were all defenseless.

Even I would have a hard time protecting myself, especially without my practice blade. Even now I go through the process of what needs to be done to defeat a Death Eater. First you must burn away the cloak, then use the DiVoratore bloodline Skill of Soul Devour to break through the bones and destroy any cores. I had gotten lucky earlier apparently, my body instinctively aiming for vital points where cores grew, the center of the chest, to the right of where a heart should be.

My mind sees movement, coming back to me, before I even recognize who it is. Instead, I am aware of everyone else’s reactions to him. How all the students stare at him, how Mr. Wallace turns to focus on him. Then I noticed a few younger people that are standing nearby, my mind only now recognizing them as undercover guards. That’s when I realize how seriously people are taking this screening process. This is not just a matter of the school doing this, but these are clearly people from outside the school that are assisting in this process. I am too busy mentally tagging the locations and faces of the undercover guards to even notice who this person drawing attention could be. Part of me thinks I’ll get a better picture of who he is, and it is a male, my quick scanning of the area has told me that much. Tall, thin, with slightly disheveled hair, which accounts for roughly 60% of all high schoolers, at least in this world where food isn’t as plentiful.

My mind and senses are taking in the sudden retreating of a student, and I have the same thought that everyone else clearly has. The fact that we have a runner, someone who is afraid to get screened for whatever reason. Honestly, I’m mildly curious about what would happen if someone did try to run. Judging by the antsy people in the back that are now leaning forward with their dominant foot, a clear sign that they are ready to run, I assume a chase would be in order. A chase followed by a tackle and takedown of some kind.

I’m envisioning this chase, when finally the person fighting their way through the normal direction of traffic suddenly stops and ends up standing next to me. That’s when I realize two things, first I am now an accomplice to this potential runner, if only for the fact that they stopped next to me and look like they want to talk. The wanting to talk part is what led me to the second realization, namely that I knew this potential runner and degenerate.

“Hey,” the runner declares stopping a foot away from me and waving at me, as the students that he had just moved past look at us for a second, before slowly merging back together in a zippering pattern to tighten up the space left by his movement.

“Hi Mousey,” I reply, not wanting to be rude, but now realizing that everyone is glancing back at me, despite clearly trying not to stare back at me, which makes it obvious that they are staring at me. Well they are staring at Mousey, and by proxy, me.

Mousey for his part just looks excited for a moment, I can feel his eyes scanning over me. It is only once he seems to spot something over my shoulder that I relax a bit.

“Is that a violin?” He exclaims excitedly.

Hearing him, I just smile slightly and nod. Pulling the violin cord that is strapped over me like a backpack, well a backpack from my old world, and pulling it up to show the case.

“Yes, I am now going to practice the violin,” I admit holding the case for a second, before dropping it back to its comfortable resting place on my back.

“Oh, you aren’t going to sing anymore?” Mousey asks.

“Not for now, the Madame has ordered it, and I am to obey,” I state, going with the previously approved line of blame anything on Madame Bloom, she does not care. There were obvious caveats, but basically if she ever got in a situation where she didn’t want to explain herself, Madame Bloom gave her carte blanche to use her name to avoid giving any true answers. Which was why this was one such time as this was a topic I didn’t really want to have to justify myself with. Especially as it meant that if I did tell everything factually, then I would have to explain why all of the songs I now sung were filled with holy energy. Again, these were not bad things, but they would lead to more questions than I wanted to answer for now.

“Ah,” Mousey responded as tapped nervously on his pant legs with his rather long skinny fingers. Seeing his fingers, I wondered how easy it would be to play the violin with those fingers.

Fortunately, this long awkward pause and brief interaction was enough for us to move up three full steps and get ever closer to the line of golden lights. Lights that seemed to stretch out from the doorway and reach down around the steps, towards us. Lights that seemed to glow with a golden hue, even managing to stand out against the light of the rising sun. The golden light a stark contrast to the slightly less revealing golden glow from above.

As I got closer, I could see that the line for who was next began one step below the outstretched golden line created by the lights lining the entryway. Almost as if everyone knew that the light was somehow different. The closer we got to the light, the more I could feel it, the golden energy that was permeating the steps.

I almost wondered why, but then I realized this was likely a process of providing a temporary safeguard against any Death Eaters from entering the school. Just stepping on the golden halo should be enough to cause any Death Eaters to appear as wiggling masses in the shadows.

Even the golden residue on the school walls should be enough deterrent to make the same notices. Mentally, I assessed that this residue would be the same as the initial lenses that Sal and the others were using at the arena. As soon as I had that thought, my eyes went wide as I wondered what happened to Sal. Allegedly he was still being interrogated and would be sentenced to stand trial in a bit, but only after the initial concern was over. That’s when this all made sense, the government wanted to see how far this all went. To see just how deep the treachery and rot ran in this city.

Protecting the schools was a good start. At least, I mentally knew it, even though I suddenly felt nervous as it was my turn to go.

“Next!” A deeply authoritative voice boomed out from the entry way and echoed across the steps.

I turn to Mousey who came down to talk to me, meaning he should have seniority, as he was here first. Yet, he just waved his hand for me to go forward. Realizing that I had effectively been dimed out, I nodded and began moving.

No sooner had I begun to make my way up the steps, when I saw the malicious gleam in Mr. Wallace’s eyes. A slight smirk curled its way onto his lips as he turned his head from me towards the entry way.

“Careful with this one, this is that one I was telling you about,” Mr. Wallace’s voice cried out. Hearing his words, I almost paused, almost faltered in my steps, but I caught myself at the last moment and continued my gait as smoothly as possible. Not wanting to let Mr. Wallace see me flustered at all.

Confidently, I strode forward glaring at Mr. Wallace. Meanwhile, Narco who had been oblivious to everyone passing by suddenly sprang to life and began excitedly wagging his thick tail behind him like a giant whip as he noticed me. Noticed and started drooling excitedly.

Seeing Narco’s drooly face, I was once again reminded of the old adage, there are no bad dogs, just bad owners. While I had a lot of trauma associated with that dog, I feel that now we have come to an understanding of sorts. I avoid him, and he drools on Mr. Wallace’s leather shoes and pants, a fair exchange.

Not even pausing long enough to acknowledge Mr. Wallace, or his comments, I enter the doorway where I am hit with what feels like a thousand-megawatt pulse of light. For a moment, I almost wonder if this is somehow picture day, but I realized that this school didn’t have such frivolities, if we wanted our picture in the yearbook, then our families would have to provide a photo for the school to use. Guess who never had their pictures in any yearbooks thus far.

Blinking once, then twice, my eyes clear up just enough to see the blurry outline of the military person in front of me directing me towards the wall. I try to blink away the blinding light and get a head count of bodies, but it is clear that there are a lot of soldiers, some of whom have clubs on hand and ready to subdue right now. I understand why, the walk up here was to identify if I was currently carrying a Death Eater, now them directing me against the wall would be to see if I ever transported one. Since I had passed the first test, these warriors didn’t need enough power to kill a Death Eater, they just needed enough power to take down a former porter for Death Eaters.

Realizing this, I still felt confident. I had nothing to hide, despite the comment from Mr. Wallace clearly setting these people off as one warrior forcefully grabbed my wrist and yanked me towards the wall. I thought about fighting back, but took a calming breath and followed the non-verbal command of compliance.

Only, once I got to the marked off section of the wall, where the large guard still held my wrist in place did things go in an unexpected manner.

I heard the unmistakable clicking sound of an intense light whirring to life as a wave of radiating holy light was shot through me. Honestly, I could almost feel the radiation flowing past me, and clinging to my bones, but that wasn’t the worst part.

“GASPS!”

The worst part was the sudden stopping, and staring as everyone in the hallway suddenly came to a complete halt, before letting out one unmistakable sound of everyone letting out a collective breath as one.

I had no idea what would happen next.