Page 101 of Black Castle

There’s nothing new or special about Vivienne’s phone. It’s just a Samsung Galaxy S4. It’s not even as shiny as it was three months ago when she got it. If not the fancy pouch she bought for it online, she bet it would be all scratched up and crappy-looking by now. The bottom line is, it’s not attractive enough for her to stare at it for hours. And yet she has been staring at it for the past two hours.

Lucan hasn’t called her yet. She has called multiple times and he hasn’t answered. She has left countless messages but he wouldn’t reply. This means he isn’t back to his body. It’s still the version she sat through a five-hour flight to the United States with.

For a second, when she had received that necklace, she thought he was back. Only him would have been that thoughtful. Clearly, it isn’t him. And she misses him. But he is yet again, hiding behind the shadow of the monstrous version of him. And she doesn’t know why.

This got her curious.

At what point do they switch characters? What is the trigger behind it when the humane version of him retreats into the dark and leaves the world as a playground for this callous, venomous thing?

For the past few hours, she has read almost every article and report ever written concerning multiple personality disorders. She finds that some people were born with it, and some develop it after a traumatic experience. She has no idea which line his case falls into.

She wants to know how he got it. Was he born like that? Did life carve that into him? Or is this more or less a spiritual problem and indeed, his dead twin brother likes to possess his body?

She doesn’t think she can ask him. Because she doesn’t know how that will play out. Imagine telling someone they are not mentally stable. That could really go bad in so many ways.

Whatever it is, she knows that he needs love, support, and understanding. And she really hopes she can be someone who is capable of giving him that.

Her phone vibrates, startling her out of her thoughts.

Kenji.

“Hey, sup?”

And as much as she’s delighted to catch up with her best friend who left roughly three hours ago, he is just not the person she wants to speak to right now.

“You sound like you’re forcing yourself to be excited to hear from me,” he notes, and a shuffling of objects echoes from the background.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“What’s up with you?” His voice is calm, mellow. “He hasn’t reached out to you yet, I guess?”

Her brows furrow. He is the last person she expected to bring up Lucan. Didn’t he spend how many minutes giving her reasons why Lucan was a big no-no?

“No, he hasn’t.”

“Want me to go to the hotel or whatever and go check up on him?” he asks and Vivienne’s brows furrow. “Maybe drag him by the collar to you?”

She chuckles weakly, and the lack of glee in the laugh makes her internally wince.

“That won’t be necessary,” she tells him. “I doubt he is even in the country. His plan was to drop me off and fly back because he’s got stuff to do back in Russia.”

“Oh.” There’s a pause. “So what are you doing at the moment?”

Vivienne glances around her room. “The house is messy. My room, for a starter, smells kinda damp. I’m going to do some cleaning.” She sits up, reaching for the power of her desktop to turn it off. The homepage of a medical site is still glowing on the screen, evidence of how long she has been researching BP and Multiple Personality Disorder.

“Do you want me to come over and help out?” He offers. And she knows if she says yes, he will be at her doorstep in seconds.

“Don’t worry.” She stretches, pressing a fist into her lower back to ease the stiffness from sitting in that position for too long.

Her stomach suddenly grumbles, a sharp reminder that she hasn’t eaten more than biscuits and tea today.

“Are you sure?” Kenji asks, just as she stands and exits her room.

“Yeah.” She heads down the hall toward the exit to the garage. “What about you? What are you doing?”

“Painting Mrs. Sato’s nails,” he says and Vivienne hears his mom giggle in the background.

Vivienne chuckles. “Well, let me leave you to it, then.” She hangs up, slipping her phone into the back pocket of her jean shorts.

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