Memoria - Chapter 2 - Corprusia

"Of death comes life,1

the time of Corprusia.2

Open the gates of memory,3

he who promised will remember" - Infinitum Liberati4

Graham Tessen glanced over to where Jason stood leaning against the bathroom door, exhaustion clearly visible on the police chief's face. He was a dark and handsome man, but hard years had taken their toll. Scars of age were tracked across his skin, making him appear older than he was - which according to some people, was ancient. His grey hair added to that sentiment. Flowing like fine silver webbing, it was neat and gave a sort of comfortable 'you-can-trust-me' look to his face. A look that often proved useful when working on a case. 5

Right now, the chief had other problems to deal with though. After the scream, Jason and the police officer went into the house, to find a mother sobbing in the bathroom at her dead son's feet. Suicide. The worst way for a kid to go. The officer called for backup units (which equalled roughly two squad cars in Enderton) and they had arrived moments ago, bringing the chief along.6

The bathroom was neat: a bath standing to the left, and a shower to the right. Next to the shower stood a toilet with a sink. Everything was colour-matched in hues of green, adding to a clinical feel. On the toilet was the body of a young boy whom Jason had seen around town a few times, once in his bookstore too. Ryan Evan. The kid had taken a blade to his own wrist, drained himself empty.7

"Mr. Bell, this isn't the time or place for a civilian" Graham said, turning away from the dead boy with a heavy sigh. "Go home, and come see me in the morning, I'll need your statement."8

Jason nodded. Soon this place would be teeming with the coroner's boys and that was the last thing he wanted to see. 9

He turned to go, but a thought struck him: "Chief, before I go, mind telling me how many?" he asked, looking the man straight in the eye.10

"This would be the sixth suicide to date. All young kids between fourteen and eighteen, and all well balanced according to their parents and friends. Nobody ever saw it coming." and with that he motioned Jason to leave.11

Normally suicides occurred in broken homes or where the kid was suffering from severe depression. Many telltale signs could warn a keen observer of a potential victim. Yet, Jason mused, nobody foresaw Ryan's or the others' suidides. This was strange, since kids of this age have difficulty controlling their emotions, let alone hiding them.12

Walking down the corridor on his way out, he turned in the direction his feet took him. So deep was he in thought, that it was a moment before he realized he was standing in Ryan's room. The walls were covered in posters of the latest movies and music bands. Off to one side stood an L-shaped desk with a computer, surrounded by disks of various shapes and sizes. Everything seemed neat and normal, even the unmade bed in the opposite corner, typical of teenage rooms.13

Being a bookstore owner, Jason wasn't too fond of computer games and the likes, believing them to destroy kids' imagination. He spotted a few titles on the desk that sounded exactly like what he expected senseless violent games to be named, Bloodfire, Deathmarch, Skeletal Conquest, and so on. Strange how the youth of today could find such gruesome portraits entertaining. Jason's eyes swept the table again, trying to find a clue amongst all the clutter. His eyes settled on a single empty case. Nothing was written on the cover, except a strange symbol that looked like a capital M turned sideways and crossed with an s. Shivers ran down his spine as he turned to leave. He had seen that symbol somewhere before.14

He was still worried about that symbol as he prepared for bed. It seemed somewhat cultish to him, and anything cult related in a town that had been forgotten by technology, was hilarious if you thought about it in daylight. But it was night now, and the thought made Jason shiver with superstitious dread. Even later that night, while laying in bed listening to the silence of the house, it took a long while for sleep to overtake him. And he dreamt.15

He was back in the hospital, having a chat with Dr Wettart. But standing next to the good doctor was Ryan, drained of every drop of blood, leaving him with a blue color. His dark lips opened to reveal discolored teeth in a smile that almost appeared hungry. The doctor didn't notice this apparition, but Jason understood - he was dreaming. He glanced to where the boy had stood the last time he was here, and Ryan stood there as well, his face masked by the encroaching darkness. But obviously the same boy.16

"You remember me..." A teenager's voice, hinted with a whispery quality like paper rubbing against paper. Jason couldn't help but shiver at the sound of that voice from the past. Not only was it Ryan's voice, it was the voices of all the other youngsters who had died this way - filled with sadness, and yet happy to be gone.17

"I remember all of you" he replied, not knowing where the words came from, yet speaking them with a conviction he had never felt before. He felt as if the answer was winking at him, just beyond his reach. If only he could make the next jump of belief, he would know what it was that was happening.18

The dead boy's smile widened, as if he knew that was what Jason would say.19

"Remember this?" the boy asked, pointing at the folder that the silent doctor was holding. On the cover was the same symbol that Jason had seen in Ryan's room.20

"Yes, it is Memoria. To remember is to be." he replied, not knowing where the knowledge came from.21

Jason stood up; the headache he had felt last time was not present. But he knew this was a dream, because a dead boy does not walk or talk. Neither do weird symbols appear on folders, and he didn't know things he wasn't supposed to.22

"Where are we? I am dreaming - I know I am - yet how can this be?"23

"You are where all go when they remember what they have been in the times past." the whispery voice, one yet many, told him.24

Jason hesitated; the concept was a bit ludicrous. He wasn't a religious man, but what this vivid aspect of his sleeping consciousness was trying to tell him, was almost unbelievable.25

"You remember us. Now remember the promise."26

The boy laughed, and the laughter grew so loud that Jason snapped awake, accompanied by the alarm clock on his bed stand, which abruptly went off to signal six o' clock. He was drenched in sweat, and already the vivid dream was fading. Glancing at the faint green glow of the clock on his bed stand, he threw back the covers and stood up silently, and started preparing for work.27

The streets were silent as he unlocked the safety gate in front of his store. A faint mist had formed during the night, fueled by the winter drizzle that had fallen sometime yesterday, as he had fought his way back to consciousness. Now the mist and the cloaking silence was foreboding, a warning of some unknown danger that lurked in the streets he had come to know. The bell above the door jingled to break the silence, and he stepped in to Printed. To the right was the cashier's desk, a large L-shaped desk made from pine wood he picked up from the local hardware store. It served to hold the cash register and coffee machine. The shop itself was quite large, but row after row of shelving set quite narrowly gave the appearance of cramped space. Everywhere there were books, neatly sorted and tagged with the precision only a dedicated collector knows.28

Jason flipped the 'Closed' sign to 'Open' and switched on the coffee machine. He went through the same routine he had gone through so many times in the past, that it took him a moment to realize that some books were still left on the little reading table that stood close to the desk. This table was intended for students or people who came to do research. Being the only shop of its kind in town, (Enderton didn't even have a library, but rumors had it that there would soon be one) he had quite a lot of school kids in here on weekdays, most of them trying to skip classes.29

He picked up the first book, glancing at the title: "Infinitum Liberati" It was clearly very old, and he didn't recognize it as one his shop carried. Strange title for a book written in English, he mused, flipping through the pages. He noticed that some words and sentences were underlined. Damn kids, they have no respect. He paused at a paragraph, reading it again:30

And in a time out of memory, when a darkness fell on the land, the promise was made. That one man shall know of times past, and deliver the world from evil untold.31

A shiver crawled up his spine, dread, followed by a strange sensation of lightheadedness. Sitting down, he left the book on the table, closed his eyes and took a few breaths, trying to get a hold on his senses. It took a few moments for the strange vertigo to leave him. His eyes snapped open as a car horn sounded in the distance, his eyes involuntarily going to the book. Even here he could still read the sentence. Or couldn't. He blinked. The whole book was written in Latin. He was about to start wondering, when the phone next to the coffee machine started ringing, sending all thoughts about the book scattering from his mind. 32

It was Graham, reminding Jason about his appointment at the police offices today. Sighing wearily, he gathered up the books, taking a moment to wonder why one was lying open. Normally study books should be placed back after use. Damn kids. They'll never learn.33

"Mr. Bell, so glad to see you again. Sad that our first meeting had to be under such grim circumstances, but let's hope this time things go better" Graham greeted, opening the door to his office to allow Jason to entrance.34

"Indeed" he replied, taking a seat facing the chief's desk. The sun shone directly in his face from the big picture window behind the desk and he had to squint to see clearly. Graham took his seat and ruffled some papers, clearly trying to gather his thoughts. Jason noticed that most of the papers concerned the recent spate of suicides. The chief's office appeared old. That being a strange thing for offices newly built. According to local stories, the offices were built last spring after a dreadful fire burnt down the old one story building, claiming six officers' lives. Official reports stated electrical causes, but many eyewitnesses (mostly being half-drunk teenagers out for a joyride) said it was lightning. No clouds were reported, so the stories were dismissed.35

"Jason... may I call you Jason?" he didn't wait for an answer, but continued, "let's cut to the chase. Enderton is a peaceful town; most of my work involves some guy slapping his wife around, cattle stolen out on the farms or a drunk driver or two after payday. But now this." He motioned to the files on his desk.36

"Your mugging is the first ever. I haven't even gotten a statement from you about that night. Doctors tell me you sleepwalked, and spoke. Most of it incoherently too. So I'm going to ask if you want to give a statement about that night?"37

Jason looked at the man, and after a moment, answered no. For some reason Jason believed that the night he was attacked was something that didn't matter. He came through fine, a bit worse for wear, and with a headache if he moved too fast, but healthy and kicking nonetheless. Granted, the money was gone, but Jason never had great attachments to money in the first place. A hundred rand, a thousand. He'd as easily give it away as spend it on something he'll never need. Back when he was a kid, his father didn't even give him an allowance anymore after Dad noticed his son didn't want it. To Jason his bookstore was just something he did because he loved to read, and wanted to pass on that love to the people around him. In a small town like Enderton he felt at home. Here he would know everyone's name in the months to come.38

"Very well then. Now about this suicide spate. This is very peculiar. The most notable fact is that it all started after the night you wound up in the clinic." Jason started to protest, but the chief held up a hand to silence him.39

"I know, I know. A major coincidence. Lately we've been having trouble with the locals too. They claim that something bad is coming. Sangomas are making money selling trinkets disguised as good luck charms." At this he smiled.40

Graham took a photo from the stack of papers on his desk and handed it to Jason. It was the symbol he had seen in Ryan's room.41

"Do you know what this is?"42

A strange sensation came over him - a lightheadedness that made every color more real, and every noise amplified. From a distance he heard his own voice answer: "It is the Memoria sign. To remember is to be."43

"And how do you know this?"44

"I read a lot of old books, chief".45

Graham smiled at that, and replaced the picture after scribbling a few words on the back. Jason smiled back, the strange feelings had passed and everything was fine again. He wondered briefly if the injuries he had sustained were worse than he thought.46

"Well I thank you for that small piece of information. That sign was on six separate disks we found at each suicide victim's house. Another coincidence, I suppose. You know how kids are these days, with their strange music and clothes and games."47

Jason nodded. After a few more minutes of idle chit-chat, the door opened to reveal the officer that had driven Jason home the previous night.48

Graham made his excuses and Jason said his goodbyes, leaving the two officers to their duties as he made his way back to his shop. The sounds of late afternoon traffic, and a smell of freshly cut grass waved to him as he walked the short distance.49

The fertile lands of the Free State were home to many farmers whose life's work went into the soil they plowed, sowed and reaped, year after year. For more than fifty years this had continued, and all the activity had given birth to the little town that served as a bump in the road to travelers. After the apartheid government gave way to democracy, Enderton had seen its flood of previously disadvantaged people coming here, looking for their lost lands, trying to reclaim them from the farmers. The farmers in turn refused to give up their hard earned ground, and most struck a deal. The blacks could work on the farms for a period and use the money they earned to buy farmlands from the white owners. Many accepted this offer, since it was a solid deal and everyone gained. But sadly, many didn't. Those that were unwilling to compromise had even threatened the farmers (who took it very seriously). This all lead Jason to believe that Enderton, in all its quiet peacefullness, was a ball of nerves, a time-bomb waiting to explode.50