Deviants Fallen: A DBH Story

Chapter 50: Checkmate

A computer monitor atop a desk lay against the wall across from the door. A few neat stacks of paper covered the other surfaces of the desk. Clara focused on the monitor first, tapping a key on the keyboard to bring it to life. It showed a screen split into 4 segments. One in her bedroom, two in the main area, looking down from both sides, and one out in the hallway. He could watch everything going on in the apartment from here. She shuddered briefly, unnerved at the thought, then turned instead to the papers.

As she looked them over, she noticed they were scrawled in a neat, but strange language. She picked one up to inspect it closer. Gradually, recognition set in. She didn't know how, but she could read it. She scanned the page, realizing it was a journal. Cain's journal. She shuffled through the pages, finding the earliest entry.

The first day Connor started working with Dr. Hayes, he'd asked her why she was always writing. She said it was because it helped her organize her thoughts and remember the new things she learned. My memory bears no faults, but I do find myself in need of help organizing my thoughts. To preserve the privacy of these thoughts, I've decided to write them in her cipher.

Since bringing her here, I feel strange. I still don't understand why Connor fixated on her, aside from the mission—

Clara set the paper down, not wanting to continue. She shouldn't pry. But as she ran through the words, something stirred in the back of her mind, just out of reach. She focused on it, but it refused to be caught or understood.

She caught the vague image of her hands holding a tablet, writing something she couldn't remember, and a feeling of hostility toward someone. She couldn't remember who.

But the words she'd read reminded her of what Cain had said before he'd left. About the man who he was starting to understand. Was that Connor?

She thought for a moment, desperate for any recollection, but it got her nowhere. She instead turned her attention back to the desk. It bore a few drawers stacked on the left-hand side. Clara opened the top one. She found an odd assortment of items. Among there lay a small handgun and a few boxes. She picked one up and found it filled with bullets, presumably for the gun. She picked up a slimmer one and slid the lid off. It had a few long tools in it with peculiar shaped heads. She recognized it as a lockpicking set. She felt a flash of confusion. What did he need that for?

As she picked up a small hooked piece, a memory stirred.

Clara crouched in front of a door, looking up and down the hallway. It was empty, aside from the boy next to her.

"Clara, are you sure this is a good idea?" He looked at her apprehensively. "What if we get in trouble?"

She shot him a grin, mischief rising inside her. "You only get in trouble if you get caught, Eli." She turned back to the lock. "And we're not going to get caught."

She reached into her pocket pulling out the set she'd secretly bought from an online seller without Abigail's knowledge. She never would have allowed it if she'd known.