The Source of All Evil

Chapter Five

Michaela Walker.

“I did find the book during the excavation, but I hid its existence from the team in hopes of using it later to become famous. I planned to go back to a random place and claim that I found it there. . .”

“. . . Don’t look at me with those judgmental eyes of yours.”

Michaela pursed her lips, keeping her mouth shut not to rile this guy up. If he’d leave her here, she knew that she wouldn’t survive, especially when she couldn’t move her legs.

He sighed. His gray eyes still trained on her. “Anyway, I was mad, and I didn’t know what to do. I got obsessed over the book, thinking of it at every waking hour. And after a certain event, I was back studying the book, feeling compelled to ruin the love story that shattered my dreams. . . I altered the love story to end tragically, making a villain out of the princess.”

“You did?! Is that why you’re here?!” Michaela glanced at the book in his hand, musing about this. If the book was magical, maybe altering the story was a way to trigger its magic. So, in other words, this cursed book was to blame for her death and ending up here.

“You’re the one who placed this s**t in my bag!”

A sly grin appeared on Rafe’s lips, and if her feet would work, she’d punch his handsome face to the point he’d be unrecognizable.

“I sure did,” he admitted, showing no sign of remorse. “I found the missing page of this book, and it explained in detail the caliber of magic it contained. I misinterpreted the information I read, thinking that if someone else gets ahold of this book and changes the story, I get transferred back to my world while they end up here.”

“You jerk!” She snarled, and his eyes darkened even more.

“Do you think it’s smart to provoke me? With your current state, I can easily sell you at the slave market.”

Ignoring his threat, she exclaimed, her voice cracking in shock. “There is a slave market?!”

“Yes,” he let out a hefty breath. “. . . So, my plan didn’t work, and you’re now, here, stuck with me. I used a rare formation to travel to my world and get rid of this book, seeking you to change the plot for the story to end happily. Why did you keep the same ending?”

Michaela couldn’t understand a thing, wearing a dumbfounded look that led him to elaborate.

“I met a seer here who told me about a rare formation that transfers people to another universe. I thought of giving it a try. That seer told me that when I reach the other universe, I need to look for the Denum Dei Walker in the land of angels, the key to end my misery. . . I didn’t think much of it. Years passed, and I finally managed to get my hand on the formation the seer spoke of, and it transferred me to the States, back to my world.”

“And?” Michaela had her full attention on him, listening to his explanation.

He sighed once again. “I was back in Chicago, inside my house. . . You can imagine my shock when I found out that the house was no longer mine, and the new occupants were scared out of their wits, thinking that I’m some burglar. I barely fled with a few scratches as the man of the house started beating me with a pool stick. . . "

"A pool stick?" She tried to keep straight face. Rafe didn't notice, nodding.

" Yes, that thing is a b***h. . . With no money, no form of identification, I sat in front of a burger joint, glaring down at this book. Only then did I notice that the circle around the carved symbol on this book was glowing red. And with each hour I spent in our world, a chunk of it disappeared. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that I had a limited time. . .”

“. . . So I started thinking about what that seer said, and the only place that we referred to similarly as the land of angels is LA. A good Samaritan saw me in front of the burger joint and offered me food, so I asked him if I could use his phone to search something. . . I was surprised to see that there are still good people out there. Not only did he let me use his phone, but he also gave me money for the road.”

“Enough money to travel to LA?” Michaela found it unbelievable that someone would give a beggar a large sum of money. The bus ticket alone would cost around two hundred bucks to travel from Chicago to LA.

Rafe shook his head. “The money he offered was enough to get me to a sketchy neighborhood where I used to sell certain things for cash.”

“You mean things you stole,” she remarked with a sly grin.

“No, smartass. Things I found during excavations.”

“Still considered stealing.” She reminded him and zipped her mouth shut when he glared at her.

“Anyway, so after checking his phone, I couldn’t find any information about what happened to me. I had this suspicion that I died, but nothing got reported on the news websites. I guess I wasn’t important enough for my disappearance to reach the news.”

Michaela stopped herself from laughing at this narcissistic fool. The moment she saw him here, she knew he was full of himself. So hearing him resentfully mention that his disappearance was of no importance to the world, she had to hold herself back from laughing at his misery.

He deserved it, she thought. He was the reason why she got here in the first place.

“. . . But when I checked my social media page, I found out about my sudden death. They said I died of a heart attack, while the last thing I remember was a white light enveloping my body. Not only that I was dead, but I found out that it’s been more than three years since I died. . . Saying that I was shocked is an understatement. . .”

.“. . . With time not on my side, I took a cab to the pawnshop and sold four gold coins that I had on me. The man didn’t seem to have heard about my death, which I was grateful for. Or, he probably didn’t care enough that a ‘ghost’ was standing in front of him. Anyway, I got two hundred bucks for the coins. I couldn’t bother bargaining, knowing well that he ripped me off.”

“Can we get to the part where you appeared at Sisters café and ruined my life?!” Michaela cut in with a cynical grin. Since Rafe was so full of himself, she didn’t know how long it’d take him to get to the main point. He’s been rambling on about unimportant stuff as if he was fishing for her sympathy.

Through gritted teeth, he seethed, saying. “You’re getting on my nerves. Trust me, I’m not someone you can easily mess with.”

She rolled her chocolate brown eyes, looking unfazed. She thought he wouldn't continue his agonizingly detailed story, but no. Rafe Thomas still had enough energy to talk some more.

“. . . I ran out of time before I could travel to LA, and I got sent back here. That made me realize that I only had twelve hours in our world to find the place the seer told me about. So, I spent years looking for another formation, and I found it again. When I transferred back to our world, I luckily got sent to LA this time. I had no money on me, yet again, and I didn’t know my way around the city. I felt depressed that I spent around four hours just roaming around, so I settled in the café to sate my thirst. That flamboyant boy was kind enough and very talkative. And listening to him talk, I realized that time again flew by in our world. While I spent almost ten years looking for that formation, another three years passed by in our world.”

Michaela gave him a once-over, as Rafe still looked like someone in his thirties, so it didn’t make sense that he spent almost twenty years in this world and didn’t age.

Like he read her mind, he went on. “Those who are experts in the path of divinity become immortal.”

“S-So, you’re. . .”

“Yes, I’m immortal.” he cut in with a lilt of pride in his tone of voice.

Michaela shook her head. “The fact that you’re an expert divine practitioner is what baffles me.”

“The fact that I’m immortal isn’t that much interesting to you?”

She nodded. “I mean, I figured as much. I studied that book, and I know how all Divine masters and experts are immortal. I just. . . I imagined they’d look different.”

“As in old?” He asked with a chuckle, and she grinned.

“No, beautiful.”

Rafe had enough, glaring at her before turning around to leave.

“Come on. I’m kidding. I’m kidding.”

He still didn’t stop, reaching the gate, making her roll her eyes at how sensitive he was. She sighed, calling him again.

“I’m just trying to cope with the fact that I’m here. Being cynical in this kind of situation is what I got.”

He paused with his back to her, not making a move to leave nor to return next to her.

“I’m sorry, okay?”

“You suck at apologies,” he said, smirking her way. “But I guess. I can pardon you just this once.”

She nodded, “yes, yes, you’re such a gentleman.”

“Come on, come back!” She yelled when he narrowed his eyes and resumed his way to the gate. “I’ll keep my mouth shut, okay?”

“You better,” he said, and she bit her tongue not to say anything provocative.

“. . . I didn’t understand what Denum Dei Walker meant, and I thought it must be a place. I asked that waiter, and he looked at me as if I were crazy. So I figured heading to the library and checking on a computer for the place since I didn’t have a phone.”

She interjected. “Denum Dei sounds Latin, and if I’m not mistaken, it means God’s gift? Sorry,” She said the last part when he quietly stared at her.

“No, no, no, I was just shocked that you know what it means. Did you study Latin?”

“No, but my father was an archaeologist, and he taught me some about ancient languages, symbols, and such. . . You must know him since you’re in the field. His name is Jasper Walker.”

Rafe stood silently, his eyes still trained on her, as if in thought. He shook his head. “Never heard of him. There are a lot of people in this field.”

But he was famous, she almost said but stopped herself. So far, this guy claimed that he was an archaeologist, but he didn’t act like one. Most of them study ancient symbols, dead languages, and such. This man could be lying about what he used to do in her world. Maybe he was just some grave robber or something.

Still, she had no choice but to stick with him until she’d find a way to get out of this place.

“There is no place called God’s gift Walker in LA, so I figured it must be a name. I was smart enough, this time around, to take three talismans with me. They’re really expensive to make, but they helped extend the time limit for six hours each time I used one. I had already used two by the time that waiter spotted me when I was in front of the café, debating if I should use the last talisman to add time since I only had four hours left before I get sent back here. . . And you and your cute friend came in. I listened to you guys talk, fascinated by your friend’s beauty.”

“She has a boyfriend,”

He chuckled heartily. “You don’t have to look annoyed. You’re beautiful, too, just not my type.”

“You’re not mine either,” she mumbled.

“Fair enough. . . I heard your friend call your name, and it made me think if God’s gift was actually a description for a person's name since people here suck at naming things. And when that other guy came in and started a fight, he called you by your full name. That’s when I knew you’re the one who I’m looking for.”

“Unbelievable!” she finally snapped. “Just based on that you chose to drag me to this miserable place?! Oh! Now I remember what Craig said! He told me that you picked up my bag when I fought with Valerie. You placed the book inside it!”

“You look cute when you’re mad.”

“Come closer. I’ll show how cute I can be!”

Michaela cursed her useless legs, as she wanted so bad to stand up and punch this jerk. The other just laughed.

“I wanted to get out from here, and you were the closest person with a name that means God’s gift, and Walker is your last name. . . I didn’t have much time, so I placed my hope on you to get out from here.”

“Well, we’re now both stuck here!” she bitterly reminded him.

“It’s partly your fault. I thought that if you were charmed to change the story since you’re a woman, and you guys are so into romance and stuff, you’d choose a happy ending. But who would’ve thought that you’d keep the ending as it is.”

He threw the book into her lap, and while she had a lot to say to him for that sexist remark, his eyes pressured her to check the book.

Michaela paled. The story it entailed was a word for word what she wrote and added. She stared at him in askance, and Rafe went on.

“It’s a cursed book. It compels those who don’t appreciate love and romance into altering the story, leading to a tragic ending. And those who are romanticists deepen the love of the characters in the story. When you change it, you get sent here. . . After several attempts to revert the story the way it was, the princess still dies in the end. She dies, the world resets, and I have to try again. It’s a fricking endless loop, and I’m stuck here.”

“She dies, and the world resets?!”

“Yes, If I die or she dies, the world resets. Do you know how many times I wrote some of the cheesiest, cringiest s**t for her not to die?! No matter what I do, she still gets herself killed by her own stupidity.”

“It’s impossible!” She still found it hard to believe.

“Well, think of it the way you want. I’ll head out and catch that creature before it escapes.”

Rafe didn’t wait for her response, leaving the room. Michaela, once alone, placed the book as far away from as she could, glaring at it.

Michaela sat there and waited for some time, lost in a deep crevice of dreadful thoughts. She pondered if this was just a nightmare and that she would wake up soon on a hospital bed, surrounded by her loved ones.

She even thought that she must be in shock from the blast that happened in her apartment that drove her into this hallucinogenic state. Whether it was that or the other, Michaela settled on closing her eyes to escape this place.

But only if Rafe would let her think in peace. He soon walked in, making a loud commotion as he chased the pink creature around the room. Michaela, who squinted one eye open to watch the scene, burst off laughing, finding it amusing to watch an adult man chasing a small fluffy ball-looking creature.