Airlangga himself does not know what kind of factors affect his nightmares and power. He is new to this although he's been seeing ghosts and spirits since he was a little shitling. The visions came up to him when he accidentally hit his head while studying for an exam during his 3rd year of school. Nightmare only came around a couple of years ago when his lover mysteriously got sick and passed away on her sick bed. I guess insanity really hit him straight on the mental and physique, but it doesn't explain the possession episodes that sometimes occur during his sleep (and comatose). So I told him to sleep and see what was going to happen in the next couple of hours, worst case I'd just shoot him since the time seemed to have taken a liking to him. Another unbelievable thing is that this family has a spirit acting as a servant to keep an eye on him, I don't know what kind of contract the girl has but certainly her rest is disturbed by it.

  "Hey, you! Girl on the mango tree!" I shouted to her. She looked confused

  "You can see me?"

  "Come here for a second, will you?"

  The girl floats to the window, and as she moves a gentle breeze blows around my face. Her face isn't too deformed unlike regular ghosts or spirits, one thing I can conclude is that: her life was a good and noble one. Although I'm still uncertain about her death based on Airlangga's own testimony, anything could happen, but for him to love something in his past until today is like cancer to him.

  "You... look 'burnt' for a human.." she said, curious.

  "None of your concern..."

  "Is this what they do at the Secret Service? Dragging humans to hell?"

  "Now that is an insult"

  The girl laughs as if she knows better about the operation compared to me and Airlangga combined. I suppose there's nothing wrong with letting her have her own opinion regarding the mortal word, it's not like she's able to do anything about it, merely a spectator. The grass is calm and the view exposes the residence's backyard. Laundry hanging, a little girl, and some sort of herbs are planted inside the greenhouse, surely as expected from a medical worker's house. There is some kind of cage with nothing enclosed inside the arranged wooden stakes. But there is no doubt that I see heavy-duty industrial chains alongside some used syringes, which is interesting. I have no idea how dangerous Airlangga is on his outbreak, however, any normal person knows that those chains are an overstatement in stating how threatened a person could feel. Excessive protection.

  "You must have questions about the cage..." the ghost guessed correctly.

  "Doesn't look like it's made for domesticated or farm animals"

  "His episodes are mild compared to then. But it was predictable, there would be certain patterns and Mr Soediro would chain his own son inside that cage"

  "The outrage became hard to predict but the lethality dropped following the behavioural pattern"

  "Yes, but thanks to Mr Soediro's underground research on both of us, we know what kind of plants demon the most in this realm"

  So these herbs are the kind that could suppress Airlangga's inner demon. Humans who use 10% of their brain capacity are certainly magnificent, it's such a waste that lesser classes fail to see the importance of knowledge. If they're willing to do more reading then we would probably be free since day one. Anyway, it's not something I can control easily despite the family's position in the kingdom.

  "Nowadays nothing works on him. It's only a matter of months until he goes insane," she continued with a heavy tone.

  "Heh, you should be happy then-"

  "If I were alive I would blast your damned jaw off your head, and it's a promise," fiercely the girl cuts my joke.

  "Apologies, dear..." It was not funny, I admit, it was too foolish. I let my humour take the best of me.

  Sometimes not all people are allowed to speak, old people would say that it's better for you to shut up rather than spit bullshit bully words. The girl looks upset, I understand and maybe I leave a negative impression in her dead mind. Does it really matter when I'm already bound to hell due to the contract I foolishly made in the past? All I could do for now was just wait and pray.

  "I need to go somewhere," the girl said while leaving the windowsill.

  "Even as a spirit, you still need to do some errands?" I asked while putting my cigarette off.

  "Your humour is trash for someone with blue blood," she dissed me one more time before finally leaving my sight.

  I should get some rest.

  And no, my blood is red.

  ————

  "Meneer, are you truly a soldier?"

  Uhhh...

  I did not expect his little sister to be this kind of brave and curious. On top of that, she's already starting to learn Dutch, which is a true privilege compared to other kids around her age. In the middle of discrimination, I guess the Father is not joking around when he says that education shall not be limited to males and men alike. The girl is truly active and hyper... I would say, but I think it's one of her perks and unique characteristics.

  "Is my uniform not enough to prove my profession?" I replied to her as I helped her climb onto her chair.

  "But your hair is not like us! Father, mother, and brother all have black hair. But why is your hair is white with black ends? Are you half Dutch?"

  Sharp. As expected from Soedirohoesodo.

  "Excuse the girl, Banaspati," the mother said to me, I nodded in reply.

  The family invited me for dinner, to express gratitude for keeping their only son alive despite his foolish decisions. I guess there is nothing wrong with having a meal or two before confronting death face-on. Isn't it what they do to the ones on the death row? The mother brought some dishes on the table, the ones that clearly she cooked herself. The Father came out from his study, with tired eyes and a very exhausted face which was somehow understandable. He and the Professor were certainly on their busiest schedule of the century; plague, dying son, and whatever the Netherlands had in store for us. The doctor sits on a chair at the end of the table, he sees me and somehow smiles a bit.

  "How's your wife, Herjuna?" Mr. Soediro asked before taking his coffee in a small sip.

  "Miriam is well, despite the pressure coming from the Netherlands. She's a strong woman"

  "It's a pity that you could not develop feelings yet. I suppose you're not in any interest in psychotherapy?" The wife asked.

  "I... don't think I need another distraction in my line of profession. Thank you for the recommendation, Mrs Soediro"

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  A door shrieked, a familiar door. Airlangga came out in his white shirt and white trousers, he sat down next to me. He has indeed just woke up from his nap and still needs some more time to sleep. The boy looked at me before hitting me on my wounded shoulder. I tried to stay calm in the middle of his audacity to hit people who were older than him without any justified reasoning. Maybe he was telling me to drop the mask? But the thing itself isn't on my very face, I guess he's still half awake and collecting his soul. A couple seconds later the family and I prayed before finally having dinner.

  "Oh, I thought the jaw was the mask... sorry," Airlangga apologized.

  "It's fine, you looked like you could use another sleep anyway"

  "Did you dream?" The doctor asked.

  "Surprisingly no"

  The room goes quiet. No more sounds of tablewares hitting porcelain plates. Not even a sound of happiness because his nightmares suddenly stop, hell not even the girl is making any comments. The whole group is just staring at him, curious about what is actually happening. I guess they're too shocked hearing this relieving news coming from their own family member.

  "Is something wrong?" I whispered to the boy, and he replied by shrugging his shoulders.

  "Can we try to sleep after your duty?" The doctor asked for the second time.

  "Gladly, Father," the boy just agreed on his father's terms.

  ————

  "I'll be back before dawn. I'm taking the backdoor key with me"

  The boy said his goodbye to his mother while I tended to my horse. It's not like I don't want to share him with Airlangga but he might not used to bareback riding since a saddle only fits for one person. Most likely he will take the bicycle to the stable, and from there borrow a horse. I should tell him to get one for convenience since he's working in a new squad anyway.

  "Man... get your horse shit off my mother's lawn!"

  "Fuck off, you should be grateful I give your mom free fertilizer for the greenhouse"

  "So hostile you are, is it because of the demon inside you?"

  The boy asked jokingly, but somehow he hit me right in the money bag. That's an insult and a half, I've been contemplating my humanity and he's just straight-up telling me this. It's not like I need to go on a 10-minute presentation about myself and my mindset, he's just straight-up dumb with the inability to read the air in detail. I approached the brat who just finished putting his boots on and I grabbed him by the collar.

  "Never say that thing in front of anyone. Ever."

  "Understood... First Sergeant..."

  "You're rich but what makes you different from a common thug if you have no manners?"

  "No diff... First Sergeant"

  "Good, now live up to your lineage"

  He ran towards the backyard, got his bicycle and without any questions cycled to the palace. The boy learned his lessons and surely will be more careful when spitting some sensitive jokes in front of anyone. As I hopped on the horse the wind blew gently, but in a familiar way. It's almost like something is trying to tap on your shoulder. I looked around for some signs, a crow landed on the fence. A small roll of paper is tied down with a thin wire to the left foot of the black creature, as I approach it takes off the copper thread on its own. The paper fell down as it flew into the dark night. More work just to pick up this small message from my colleague

  'Meet me under the gaze of Saint Joseph'

  What a narcissist. Sharing the same name as one of the saints doesn't mean you have to make that exact Church your base camp. I guess I cannot blame him for being religious but this message sounds way too tacky of him. He's drowned in the gospel songs of the Dutch Catholic Church, even if they're different kinds of Dutch it's too risky for him to hide among foreigners. Not to mention that he has a whole family with three kids. Joseph is playing with fire and not a single soul can tell him that he'll burn as soon as he touches the fire.

  "The Kerkweg near the Spoorbrug is probably guarded. Have to detour through White Paal," I muttered to myself as the good boy galloped as fast as he could away from the residential complex.

  I'm feeling a bit drowsy, probably should focus more while riding so I won't fall to the ground. Should've taken the coffee simple and plain without those fancy stuffs. Not to mention that there will be some fights later. Might as well get a smoke or two on the way to keep the eyes open, no one will scold me anyway. The night is still young somehow, nine past twenty and bars are still up with tons of people enjoying their free time despite the economic burden that awaits in the morning. Spirits alike are getting festive as the night grows older and darker, it makes me wonder what kind of things await in the near future. I know roughly how it'd be but how it'd end is surely a mystery for everyone else. Under the moonlight, I gaze at the people I try to protect just for them to see tomorrow's sun rising from the east end of the Kingdom. I lit up a cigarette, exhaling the poison deeply. The grey smoke escapes through the holes and gaps surrounding my skinless lower jaw and mask. Burden, future, sin, and everything else fill my lungs alongside the grey that kills my own body. The weight of this life only triggers me to inhale even more deeply with this cigarette in between my tooth arcs. I don't like smoking, it tastes weird and I consider it as an ungrateful act towards God's gift. It's just that every time I use black magic, my life span will expand. So I just smoke in the hope of erasing the life account that I created when I was 5 years old. Before leaving the residence, Airlangga gave me one of his guns. He said to me that it's convenient, the physical cost is just moving your trigger but the heavy price might be on your mind, the good risk aversion is to aim it at the right target. Talk of someone who plays Russian Roulette as a main profession, what he preaches is somewhat different in reality, maybe because he learns everything the hard method that way people think of him as a hypocrite.

  Airlangga and his family live in a complex of scholars and those with higher knowledge, not necessarily an active royal but indeed important people of the Kingdom and the employees of the Oostindische Compagnie. The ride from his house to the White Paal is around 20 minutes of horse riding, the church is 10 minutes away from the Paal. I hope Joseph's patience level is high, he's a catholic after all. I shouldn't take the main road but to avoid the main Kerkweg, I need to do the same thing as this morning. Most likely some people would not even notice unless some Royal guards were on duty alongside the Code River. Passed the White Paal I turned right at the first intersection, the flower street behind the church and even if they're closed you could still smell the flowers behind the wooden planks that cover the flower displays. At the end of the street is the convent and to the left is the church complex. Joseph is an undercover agent, so if anything he's always in the back most of the time and will only be at the front if any formalities were to happen. A priest welcomed me as I entered past the back gate. I know him well because he's one of our informants and an Indigenous gospel person in the Kotabaru town.

  "Greetings, son. Taksaka has been waiting for you"

  "Father Lukas, I assume he's at the infirmary?"

  "Confession chamber. You'd know which one"

  Inside is a dimly lit with many candles across the altar alleyways. It is certainly a fire hazard but if it's their practice then who am I to judge? I walked passed the altar into a secluded place where the booths are usually located. A blue curtain covers half of the person currently sitting inside on of the two sections of the booth. I stepped in and dragged the curtain before finally sitting down to hear whatever the man had to say.

  "We're taking the boy?" he asked

  "Yes, trust me on this one"

  "He doesn't have any offensive power, he should play the sage role or something"

  "I'm sure that he's not entirely useless. He's too fit for a regular soldier, he just needs a little push. On top of that, how's the boy supposed to understand manifestations if we're to keep him in a cage?"

  The man exhaled deeply, knowing that this decision was no joke and would probably take a huge toll on everyone else. But as long as I'm alive I would not let anyone lay a finger on him as he's my responsibility. Through the wooden barrier, Joseph hands me a piece of paper, a red one which is something I have never seen in standard postal protocol. It might be something related to the corporation itself but surely it's just a guess until I read the whole thing.

  'Harting will be there tonight'

  I sighed...

  That man should have been dead 40 years ago and this surname suddenly appeared as if nothing ever happened. I'm assuming that Bram was just an appetizer before they perfected whatever experiment they did on the poor boy. Tonight is certainly sounding like a death sentence for all of us, and like it or not I have to let my nephew down once more in the weekly report and meetings. My hunch tells me that even if I managed to pull something like that for the second time, I honestly do not think I would be able to come home alive. However, if I die today it negates the account I have, meaning it is somehow a mere lie created by a demon kin.

  "They really putting a bounty on you," Joseph commented. The black-haired man certainly trying to loosen up the situation so that I wouldn't be that nervous in doing the mission

  "Might as well write something for Miriam. I just hope that the girl won't miss me that much"

  "Such attention from the one that couldn't experience feelings. You might as well confess all your sins to me"

  "This is not a real confessing session. I'm not even a believer"

  "Alright, but I know you have been busy. Tell me something you acknowledge but I don't"

  "Pigeons never betrayed each other"

  "That I know"

  "Question is are you a pigeon or a crow, Joseph"

  "I am a lamb with many blemishes. What about you?"

  "Tch... Probably something that people would call a monster..."