Blue Demon

*İlk İngilizce fantastik kısa öykü denemem. Grammatical error, typo ettiysem affola.*

He looked at his watch, and when he lifted his head thinking his guest will be late he sensed something at his back. Something like shifting, just at the corner of his eye... And turned to see a man sitting on the stool, leaning back at the wall, blueish black giant wings sprawling upon his shoulders to the ground. With his multiple horns and giant wings and weirdly webbed ending reptile tail and being quite huge and all, but the most striking element was his eyes. His irises were a bit bigger than normal, dark blue and somewhat catish with pointed edges on top and bottom; but it was how he looked... He looked calm and unimaginably wise and old with the way he looked behind those eyes.

Professor tried to hide how uneasy he was with those eyes looking at him and said:

"You are right on time." with a smile, he barely managed not to twitch.

He smiled back calmly, with a wisdom matching his eyes. He said nothing.

Professor stood silent waiting for something- anything, for a moment. Then he moved his wheeled chair to the table to serve tea. It should have been cold by now, he thought, but it should do. He poured the tea to the cups; his guest moved the stool he sat on closer to the table and picked his up carefully with his big hands- his nails were a bit long and pointy and black, perhaps chitin. Now closer, professor was able notice some lizard scales in his body. His arms had linear patches of scales, pale or black, and his eyebrows were not actually hair, but black, nicely shaped scales, going all the way through his temples and under his long black hair. His skin, where there were no scales, was fair and deceptively young looking.

"I wanted to talk to you," Professor said, after he sipped his tea, "because I wanted to hear your side of the story before I came to a judgment about who you are."

"Judgment?" he said, looking a bit amused while he sipped his tea, appearing to be thinking. "About whether I am a killer or not?"

There was a silent mocking under that smile, asking Professor how much weight his judgment would create on the accused one's shoulders. Professor thought this was unexpectedly juvenile of him, and felt sorry for him; the experiences he must have had to gain such a bitter attitude... So he stood silent; and a moment later, like the man in front of him felt the same way about his own behaviour, he grimaced. He leaned towards to table and seemed to think, his head down to his tea cup.

"I am a killer." he said lifting his head, lost his amusement completely. He wasn't looking to be ashamed, but in pain. "Nothing I can say will change that fact. I killed those people. Hundreds of them. Deliberately."

"No, nothing would change that fact." Professor agreed. "But learning the circumstances you were in, your reasoning and things you went through... Understanding you, would help me." Now the way he looked, this man most call with a made up name Blue Demon, made Professor see him in a new light. He looked lonely, hurt, but young with all his hidden gratitude and hope under his eyes. It only lasted a moment and he turned to his serene cold look when Professor asked: "I could look in your mind, you know. If it is too much pain to put into words?"

"You can't." he said with a bitter smile. "It's not that I wouldn't let you. Psychics can't take that much information, it hurts them. That is why I developed these horns as a shield from probing- or reflecting myself around. But I can tell you my story, althought it is long and a bit complicated."

"What do you mean you developed those horns?"

"I created them volunteraly. After a few distasteful incidents with random psychics happened to be around me."

"Oh." Professor thought for a second, whether this can be true. And what this meant overall about him. After all he heard and expected from him, it wasn't hard to believe. "I wouldn't say no to a try anyway, just so you know."

He smiled like an old man again; amused from the courage of the ignorant. When Professor seemed to focus on him to listen that long story his smile faded. He moved on his stool, finished his tea with one sip, seemed to be thinking the word he will put together. Sighed silently and started.

1

The organization called Sentient Project, which is destroyed to the last man directly involved, was working on one clear goal: To create a tool, a mutant, able to see everything. Idea was emerged from the matematician Hector Dawny, and improved by his biologist friend Nina Jarem who worked on mutation specifically. One of those military contractors which likes to dissect people like frogs; you know that kind. She wans't very well known, because she worked in small scale and was careful with her subjects. She would only work with homeless or braindead or greatly injured. Never lost any subject to a breakout from her facilities. This was until her involvement with the Sentient Project, of course. She wasn't the one in charge of that project.

Anyway, Dawny found out that it was theoretically possible to see - or more precisely sense the whole universe, in all directions of time and space; with the correct tool and data analyzing. Jarem heard about this idea and checked her previous findings from her works with the mutants; saw them in a new light, if you would say. And saw hope in the idea. Started working on it with new subjects, and soon approached the Ministry of Defense with file full of theories and findings. They didn't get the idea of course; didn't believe in it. For some time, Dawny and Jarem worked with small means until a shareholder of the CSO Holdings called Joseph Link heard of them.

I'm sure you heard of him; got good ties with senate, big time mutant hater?

"Yes, yes, I knew him."

Yeah, him. Anyway, they founded this Sentient Project as a private initiative. With its great scale, Project operated on three continents and in more than twenty countries. They approached newly discovered mutants, and their families when they are in crisis; for example when the child starts to get sick in the beginning, or starts to grow extra limbs or whatever. They would approach them and say "We are a non-profit, oh-so-good organisation for people in your position. We will help you financially and medically for such problems; if you say okay to test our new mutation-inhibitor. It worked wonders on some cases but still in development. Be a part of a solution that will change the future!"

"They weren't testing no such thing?"

No. It was a series of interventions to shape the mutation towards the one they want. They were not a surgical or seemingly invasive procedures; in the beginning... They would test your brain waves regularly, gave you some pills or "food supplements" as they call it, test pulse or some other things with compact medical items they make you carry, some blood tests, rarely injections... So the family and the child wouldn't spook out. They were incredibly nice and helpful too, I must say. What they don't say is, what they do takes the mutation further, of course, with a great speed or beyond what it was supposed to be. And when the mutation makes a break through, a sudden development, they take the child in heavy observation, on their facility or a hospital they have around. At this point they can see whether that one is a possible candidate for their real trials. If not; they say that drug won't work on their child, and leave the poor kid alone with his overly progressed mutation. Sometimes kids die at this point for the "break through" being too harsh; or a few months or years after they leave him, because sometimes the pills have lasting effects and so on.

If they say the kid is a good candidate, interventions and monitoring gets heavier. More pills, more injections, more tests. And suddenly, they say it won't work, and leave you alone. It is a phase of "ripening" as they name it. And after a few weeks or months interventions stopped -but of course they monitor secretly- another "break through" happens. Slow at the beginning but over all, much worse this time. Most die at this point; their statistics say 3 in 20 survive.

They caused the death of 2067 people and I can't count how many they maimed. But before they succeded in their goal, I destroyed them. And their records and facilities, all together. This is what happened, in this universe. There is one other which they succeded, on me.

Second break through workes on everyone differently. Mine was a fast weight gain; I was eating all the time. But there was no difference at my look. My bones were storing it in as an unusual molecule, they say. I tripled my weight in 2 months. I started to stop eating but in 2 days I was about to die of starvation and they popped up to stop it. Said they wanted to check and maybe they can help. Anyway, I got taller and bigger and in five moths I was five times my original weight. It was agony for my bones and muscles in the end; I was unable to move much. My fever spiked one night; and I lost consciousness. I woke up sometimes, delirious, found myself moaning, in sweat, my back hurting like I was stabbed; or to find my mom crying at my side. Soon I was in some kind of a hospital room; my family was looking at me through a glass. They all believed I was dying. I knew I felt as that.

He stopped at this point, his jaws clenched, silently swallowing the fist in his throat. He served the tea once more to busy his hands. Professor knew the tea was ice cold by now, but said nothing and picked his cup to take a sip. He almost dropped the tea cup when he startled to find the tea perfectly hot. Blue Demon softly laughed at that, and that seemed to improve his mood.

I wasn't at myself, but I know my heart stopped for a few times during my time there in the hospital. Seven days, to be precise. After that day, they said to my family that I was dead; gave them a fake body as me, deformed to a point unrecognizable. So they got rid of them, to own me freely. They moved me to their facility, to this continent. My physical changes were almost done; I looked like this, except the horns. But my mind was still cooking; and that part was the real part of me they were interested in. They did everything imaginable to interfere with my heads development. I won't go into detail; I leave it to your imagination. I was half conscious at the time; but they never gave me the chance to get away. Even in my mind. So in the end, after two months of tempering I was lying in some kind of a pool, wires going in and out of my head, to some kind of a computer. The tank I was in contained some electrodes and stuff they needed me to be hooked in, and they wanted to keep it as small as possible- Smiling sarcastically and rolling his eyes: You know those corporate minds, always watching for the expenses. So they decided they don't need some of the parts like wings and arms and legs; so cut them off. I wasn't gonna go anywhere anyway!

His smile faded and teeth clenched as he pressed the hate deep down while he said:

For the next 23 years.

2

Joking aside, I didn't mind. Because I didn't know who or where or what I was. During the test of their system it was a great discomfort for me. But they solved it, by removing the notion that I existed at all. They had a special knob and an indicator on their control panel, just for that: it was marked as Sentience, ironically. It controlled hormones and brain chemistry to a great extent. When they turned it all the way down, I was nothing but eyes hooked to a machine, observing all universe but not understanding one bit. When they turn it up, gradually, I was able to understand a little, which actually was painful. All that information to make sense of... But when I was able to focus -that was another knob!- I was able to gather more information or make analyses and connections a computer can't. So they manipulated all to get what they need. But they were careful that my Sentience indicator never show a position above a certain mark; so I wouldn't know I was even there.

CSO did quite a lot of things with this tool they had. And after Joseph Link's ambitions went further than the company, some other things were achieved; things that would make me sick if I was aware that I was a part of it.

“So how did you escape? How did you reverse what happened?”

I didn't. Well, yes I escaped, but I didn't reverse it. Not really. I escaped to another dimention, so to speak, another possible universe- made possible by my actions. I hope it makes sense to you, not a lot of words exist I can use on this subject-

“I understand. Somewhat. Please continue. How did you escape?”

Hector Dawny. He made it happen.

“He set you free?”

Laughs. No, no. He made a mistake. He accidently made me find... a loop. Yeah, that word fits. You'll understand better when I tell it all.

Hector Dawny, this matematician was a bit cracked in the head. He was in this project for one reason only: He wanted to be able to use this tool anytime he liked for small, personal ends- he assured others that, and he wasn't lying. What he did was to come every week or so, and ask me “How are odds of me dying or getting majorly injured this week?”

And I -and the computer- would show the analysis. The possibility of him dying or getting greatly injured (it was all predefined “greatly injured” and such), and how and where. In percentages calculated momentarily. And right there and there he would make decisions to go or not go a certain place, not use a certain road when driving, to do this or that. So he would ask me the odds again, and watch them rise in favor of his survival.

Sometimes he asked about the day he will die; the way he will die etc. And make life decisions on it; do more excersize, join a certain program, get a check-up to see if that illness is developed already. It would change almost everytime, he thought this was because of the way he was crazy about it. But in reality life is chaotic and I knew odds were crazier than him.

As his age progressed he came more often. And that is when he did the mistake. Not one mistake, but it was a phase. You see, he would ask follow up questions to get details about the possibilities when needed. And most of the time a computer can't give an answer to “why”, can't make that kind of connections. And so he would raise my Sentience level to get answers to such questions. He never passed that predefined level, the level that would make me realize myself but he did come close often.

It was painful in a psychic way to get sentience in my position, because I didn't know how to organize that information in a personal level. What those meant I mean, was lost to me. So I was lost in them. Everytime Dawny came and increased the Sentience level, I would squirm and cry, and try to give him answers quick, out of most basic insticts, to get rid of the pain. But everytime I understood some of that chaos in my mind. I introduced it to other sides of my being and made sense of it, some here and some there. So it got easier in time. I never got conscious but somewhat understood and made a little peace with the chaos around me.

One day Dawny asked again: “How will I die?”

I remember that one clearly; because it was the day the tide turned- even though I didn't had the slightest idea that day.

“32.7% heart failure, 12.9% transportation accidents, 9.8% natural disaster caused injury, 42,4% renal failure, 2,2% murder.”

Last one was new; but not unusual. He was expecting something like mugging on the street when he ordered: “Detail murder further.”

“Wait. It doesn't make up to 100 percent.”

Yeah, 0,1 percent is for “odd possibilities” and I was ordered not to tell them out loud when asked; this was default in the settings for a long time. Odd possibilities are for the most unexpected and unseen, like universe ending all of a sudden for some reason- or no reason at all.

“Is that really a possibility? You mean, that can happen anytime? For no reason at all?”

Oh, yeah. Laughed softly. I told you that life is crazy. Oh, there is this funny thing I shouldn't forget to mention. For the last few years Dawny asked about his death, that odd possibility, which I didn't say out loud rised, from 0.1 to even 2 percent. And dropped that very last day I was telling you about. This was highly unusual, but he never noticed. That's another point; but food for thought. Anyway, where was I.

He asked about that murder details and I said:

“Murder possibility; details goes as 80,6% mugging and theft related, 12,5% encountering delirious armed attacker, 6,9% Albus.”

He was surprised for the last part; and I would be too if my sentience level wasn't the lowest.

“Define Albus.”

I said “Can't be defined.”

He raised sentience level a bit. And asked again. And I still couldn't answer. He raised again, and again, closer to the danger zone. I remember being surprised myself. Pain was bad but barely tolerable, wondering what this Albus myself. But as I told him too, it was fuzzy. I couldn't even see a figure of a person; but I knew it was a person somehow. That's why I called it a murder after all.

He gave up soon, so asked where it would happen if this possibility was to come true. I said in the control room of this institude; basicly where he stood at that moment. When he asked, and it was almost three and a half years time; funny, I managed to pinpoint the timing precisely. Even gave hour and the minute.

He was curious but said to himself it would become clearer as it gets sooner; and it was a low possibility anyway. So he moved on to ask details about the armed delirious man and the mugging, decided to not go there, and removed those possibilities completely.

Not a month passed, he came again to ask the same question. Murder possibility was raised to 4%; and “Albus” was almost 40%. He asked the details again and with his tempering with Sentience levels and all, the result was exactly the same. He were to be killed by this “being”, in that room, on exactly 24^th of April, at 14.26, three and half years from now. Still, quite a low possibility but it was weird. He asked my caretakers to run diagnostics, do a check-up and see if everything worked fine. Everything was fine. “Anomaly persisted” they noted. “But seem to be isolated to this case. Does not reflect on the other works of the Seer.”

He came a few months later, and then again soon after that. It became more frequent to ask the same question and see if I can define Albus now that the time is closer. The odds of murder and the “Albus” rised every time he came. It became about 60% in the last year to come true. And that was when I reached more detail. I managed to say it was a person. I couldn't tell the gender or age, but managed to give a- no, two different hights of the Albus. Both were true, I wasn't able to explain how. He/she was and wasn't a mutant; both true again.

That day, my caretakers who took Dawny's complaints as a sign of his insanity so far, found this alarming; as a sign of malfunction. So they I went through a great testing phase. And they found more anomalities in some cases; specifically when the question was about certain people's death. Almost all of my caretakers were to be killed at the same they, almost at the same time with Dawny, minutes apart from each other, by this “Albus”. And questions about the other caretakers' deaths, the ones that won't be killed by Albus, showed incredible numbers of “odd possibilities”, even up to 50%.

They took The Seer -me- out of use for maintanence. It didn't take long for the pressure build up from all the people and agents using it. So they opened it again, 3 months later, even though nothing was improved at all. Dawny was the person who was most reliaved because of it, I guess. He was getting paranoid; and when he asked again, to find the odds went up again, it was no help to his mental status. He kept coming, a few times a week. Rest of his time, he spent thinking and worrying about it. It was four months before “the day of Albus”, his death projections started to show suicide as a possibility.

Some of the caretakers were uneasy as well, since their numbers were going up too. But most was more worried about losing the tool, the Seer completely to the malfunctions. So a project was started to create a new Seer out of some other mutants, just in case.

Smiling sarcatically: So they took more lives... Starting from my sister.

3

Professor frowned with the image of that lovely lady losing her smile, whom he met a few days ago. He waved to Blue Demon as a sign to ask for a break from the story. His stomach was a bit upset; perhaps from what he heard so far, might also be the tea. He checked around the mansion with his mind and found Scot awake and watchin tv in the kitchen. He reached with his mind, gently.

Could you please bring me a glass of milk Scot, if it's not too much trouble?

“Sure.” he said to the air, without a hesitation. And stood up.

“Do you have beer?” Blue Demon said, with a perfect timing. Well, Professor thought, I shouldn't be surprised. He smiled and passed it on to Scot. Soon Scot was up on his way with milk and beer.

“Your sister,” Professor said and broke the silence. “is a courageous young lady. I applaud her initiative to start that business of hers; making custom clothes for phsycally extraordinary mutants? She will make lots of people's lives much easier.”

“She is not the one doing all the hard work, as she would tell you as well. She just found the talent to invest on.”

“That's not a small achievement, either.”

A proud smile brightened the Demon's face. Scot knocked on the door to interrupt it.

After Scot left, with a distrustful unspoken attitude towards the Demon, and telling Professor several times that he will be awake for anything he needs, Professor asked Demon:

“Are you worried about your sister? I mean your resemblance is uncanny. Anyone looking for winged, tailed mutant would reach her to accuse for your crimes; or to use her to reach you.”

“I am aware of that.” he said, not very happy about it. “I am watching over her.”

Professor paused and thought it over before he said it out loud: “She seems to be scared of you.”

Demon looked at him with an unreadable expression.

“She is not.” he said calmly. “She refused to answer your questions about me because she is careful who and what she talks about. She is aware of the danger.”

Professor wasn't exactly convinced but nodded and sipped his milk.

“That's good then.” He took a deep breath to focus. “So, you said, the odds were going up. And they were searching for a new Seer.”

4

Fortunately they failed to find a new one. Perhaps they didn't have time. Before they found me they wasted hundreds of people and over 6 years to search; not even counting years to create the technology and time for the initial researchs.

By the time we got to April, Dawny's murder possibility was up to 90%. And the only one to do it was Albus. Dawny was greatly agitated. He was twitching from anxiety, unable to sleep, he came one night when there were few caretakers around. He started to question me about it again.

“Who is Albus? Where is he now? Tell me you ugly blob of meat!”

Everytime I failed to answer he raised the Sentience level; until he came up to the danger zone. He didn't even notice that with his frenzy and finally went even above that.

It is a diffucult moment to describe for me. I remember the psychic pain, bearable but disturbing; confusion, to find a new perspective within that chaos around me. I had weight in that vast, crazy storm; I was a part of it and speechless out of surprise. I wasn't even aware that Dawny was still there, screaming his questions to be answered by silence. Sirens screamed as loud as him; caretakers rushed in the control room a few second later to pry off Dawny out of the control panel. They turned Sentience back down again; and my sight of view shrunk. But I knew it was there, that epiphany stayed with me, even though faded. I wasn't able to process what I saw; I didn't have control of my own thoughts. But mind is a tricky object to manipulate; it started working it out, deep down.

Unsurprisingly, they put the Seer out of use for inspections once again. Some of the emotional levels were too high for their taste; so they pumped up more stuff into my veins. It changed something, I don't know what. That epiphany didn't disappear but became still, calmer; chaos less disturbing. Clearer, in a way. I think they even helped me with that without knowing it.

Dawny was banned out of the facility because of the last incident. For that he should have been happy, because that meant he won't be in the control room the day Albus was supposed to kill him. But he was insane- well, he was a bit cracked before, but after all this he was really out of it now. So 24^th of April, he tried and managed to get in, not in the control room, but the tank room, where I was physically held. The caretaker in the control room saw him through the cameras but he hesitated to ring the sirens; because he was one of those who were to die by Albus's hands that day too. So instead of calling the guards, he opened the microphone to listen, as Dawny leaned down all on his fours to whispered in my ear.

“Can you see Albus now? It is almost time.”

In the control room computer beeped to show the message “Sentience level too low to process question.” And with shaking hands, the caretaker reached the knob and raised the level just a notch.

And something shifted in the reality; something happened but I wasn't completely aware because of my limited mind.

“Target in sight.” I said.

Dawny gasped. “Where? Where!”

“In the control room.”

Caretaker froze where he sat; he couldn't move even he wanted to, because of a giant crack going through the center of his spine. He fell on the panel a few seconds later to push some random buttons. Albus, whom I saw as an unclear blur at the time reached and turned two knobs all the way up: Sentience and Focus.

I gasped and twitched with the flood of information into my head. I was getting beaten by winds of chaos, drifting in the river of everything... It didn't hurt this time; maybe because of the drugs they gave me. I just knew I was lost, but I wasn't worried. Just calm and observing. And suddenly something broke in me. Not me, maybe I must say, it was what held me... from seeing. Really seeing. So I saw it all.

5

“What do you mean by 'saw it all'?”

All. Everything. Every possibility from past and future. There was no “now”... or maybe there was no “future” and “past”, it's the same thing. There weren't even “space”, not really, from where I stood. I was everywhere in every moment. I could see my mom when she first held me; I could see the end of our solar system; I could see my own dead body in the tank, Dawny moving to the control room with a pistol in his hand... I saw what were about to happen- what might and will and won't. And I could move between those possibilities now.

“I thought you manipulated possibilities. This sounds different than that.”

It's the same thing. What stayes and what moves to change... Does it really matter? I say that I manipulate possibilities because it is easier for people to understand. But actually, who knows what changes and moves; maybe me? Maybe I move through possible universes; from one to the one I desire. Or maybe I should say nothing moves at all; I just change my perspective and that's all. Laughs. I'm sorry, I told you it was complicated.

“Yes, yes, it is. But I'll do my best to understand. So what did you do then? With all this power you had?”

Funny thing, I didn't care anymore. It was all so small. That body in the tank, Dawny and caretakers... It was so hard even to remember what I've been through or who I was. Because it didn't matter. With all the things around, with everything around me and in me, I didn't feel anything. No desire to move or do, no desire to exist even. I was begining to get lost, with all that was me. Memories faded and desolved. Just another life, piled up items in a personal, tiny perspective... Why would I even care.

There was only one thing that I couldn't see though: Albus. That fuzzy figure came out of nowhere. I couldn't see its past or future; how couldn't I see it? İt was like a numb limb on my own body. So it was just a discord in reality, a discomfort that led me to focus on him. To make it right, instinctively. So I focused on that moment, on that place. Where he appeared.

It was a node of possibilities, that fuzzy figure. I had to choose between them; I moved from one he is unclear, to other that he comes clearer. This was no passive observation; I actually choose how he looked in a way, but there wasn't much choice for me to make. He could only be in a certain form and I choose that. So guess who?

“You.”

Yes. That is exactly what Dawny said when he reached the control room to see me.

“You are Albus!”

He checked the monitors to see my dead body in the tank room; it was still there. Alarms were going of since there was no pulse on “The Seer”. Lots of caretakers were running into our direction. And time was moving funny to me; my head was unclear. I saw the possibility of me getting shot while Dawny was directing his pistol to me. And I saw another possibility too, which I shifted to. I held the gun now, pointed at him. And pulled the trigger.

“Why 'Albus'? That is 'white' in Latin, is it not?”

I don't know. He named me, there and then. I just said I killed that man, is this what you ask?

“Why not.”

Yeah, you have a point.

“So the other caretakers were coming.”

They came. Some died with malfuntion in their weapons- guns backfired to their faces. Some shot each other, with very improbable aiming errors- though not impossible. Nothing is impossible. And I was just standing there, trying to put all this mess in me -and around me- in order. Trying to put chaos into order, how human of me... That's when I realized, I was feeling once again. Not hate or gloating for people dying around me, (I was indifferent to them) but the desire to stay at that moment, to have order, to see the time passing even if it's an illusion. Having some kind of a body, even if it was an anomaly, shifting universe, causing it to break, gave me that humanity. That is what makes us people, Professor, to feel desire and care, for anything at all. And we need a limited vision to have that. There would be no point of me talking to you if I knew what you were about to say.

So I choose that.

6

“How?” Professor asked, frowning with an efford to understand.

“Poorly, in the beginning. I was learning. My body was an anomaly, as I said, which means it had a low possibility to exist, so I had to leave it behind. I left all that universe actually; it is just another step, another shifting through possibilities, if a bit bigger in size. And claimed my body in this universe, just the night my fever spiked at that second “break through” of Sentience Project.” He took the last sip of beer in his bottle and left it on the table.

“Let me guess; that is the night, every Sentience Project worker and facilities were destroyed at the same time by an invisible force.”

“Not invisible; I just wasn't close by. Most people are able to effect what's within their eye sight; same goes for me.”

“Impressive.” Professor said, sincerely. But with concern rather than admiration. “Well, then, what happened to that other universe?”

“I don't know.” Albus said with an careless expression. “I closed my eyes to that to keep my humanity. I use only a very small portion of my sight. Just this planet and only now; I focus to see past or future, but mostly ignore that part.”

“Is it possible that they got caught into that odd possibility that you said were rising? Universe ending suddenly?”

“Maybe.”

“So you might have killed a whole universe as well.”

The moment the last word got out of his mouth, Professor wished he could take it back. He thought idly maybe he was capable of taking his own words back; and he could tear him apart where he stood without moving a muscle. Albus was looking at him with a cold empty stare now, not even moving.

“I'm sorry.” Professor said, out of sincere regret to hurt his feelings, rather than fear. “Life is crazy. I know that better now. I'm just trying to digest the idea of such an incredible force existing in our world.”

His smile was rewarding; warm and thankful, and somehow looking young. He sighed.

“So that's my story. Any questions?”

Professor was about to ask why he told him all this but then he saw it clearly. He was lonely with his all seeing eyes. He just wanted a person to know him, to be really listened.

“Just one.” Professor said. “Are we alone in the universe?”

They laughed. He said “Time to time.” with a cryptic smile.

As he moved out into the cool night weather, out in the balcony, streching his wings, Professor remembered:

“Oh, why two heights? When they asked about the Albus, you said you gave them two heights of the killer, both true. Why?” He seemed to be thinking, Prefessor spoke before he found out something. “Is it one up to your head and the other with wings going above?”

“Yeah.” he said hastily, seeming a bit relieved. “So I'll fly now.” He smiled playfully. “I'll see you around.”

After Professor nodded with a smile, he jumped of the railings without a warning. And rustling of his black wings were heard in the night. That's when Professor came up with other questions: Why the name Albus? It's your sister who has white wings, not you. And how come she has horns, too? But he didn't say them out loud. After all he knew better now, life is crazy and some facts are too big to comprehend for the most.