Chapter 5: Sixine

I cross the vast hall swarming with colleagues accompanied by their stressed clients. It’s funny, this discrepancy between these people and the detachment of their lawyers for whom this is only one case among many others. It’s a little scary when you think about it, and not exactly human, this lack of empathy.

After studying business law and showing a predisposition for real estate and financial law, I finally opted for areas in which I play a decisive role today. I set my sights on the defence of the environment and registered on the lists of court-appointed lawyers and legal aid lawyers. Coming from a wealthy family, I don’t need exorbitant fees to live.

My heels click on the white and black marble, attracting the attention of the litigants who wander in the corridors of old stone. I go down the stairs and find myself on the forecourt. Instead of leaving the enclosure surrounded by huge black metal gates, I turn around and sneak to the left, towards the ground floor. I don’t know who had the brilliant idea of setting up a bar directly here, but it would have been difficult to be less pragmatic and wise.

I settle into a stone alcove and unbutton my coat. I shove it in a ball in my bag – luckily I chose a wrinkle-resistant one, given the way I carry it around – and call out to the waiter.

"A Penal Code, please."

He looks at me, surprised.

What? It is four o’clock. Am I not allowed to relax a bit?

After a few minutes, the waiter comes back and puts my drink on the table. A spicy smell escapes the scarlet liquid and gives me a boost. This is how legal perversion turned the Bloody Mary into the Penal Code...

I plunge my lips into the cool liquid. Not bad, although it could have been stronger. And with macaroons, it would have been perfect. Eli wouldn’t agree with that, but my tastes have always been different from those of my friends.

My bag vibrates.

Where’s that damn phone?

I spill the contents of my bag on the seat and retrieve the phone.

It’s Eli. But she’s not in class at this time?

"Six? It’s me. We have a problem."

She’s not just depressed or drunk this time. She is anxious, her jerky breathing suggests that she has run or made some effort, which isn’t usual in her routine.

"What kind of problem?"

"I…"

"Spit it out darling, I’m at work here."

OK, that’s shameful, since I’m sipping a cocktail...

"Something just happened," she tells me, her voice quavering. "I... I... blew up a girl in my car."

I don’t understand. But what is she talking about?

"In your car? In the parking lot?"

"Obviously in my car in the parking lot!" she screams suddenly. "Someone was waiting for me, Six! They tried to kill me!"

Shit, but what is she talking about?

"She told me she wanted me to shut up. I don’t know what happened. A reflex, I think. She ended up in pieces in the cabin! It’s everywhere!"

"What’s everywhere?"

"Some blood! Scraps of flesh and bone… but I don’t care! They’re after us! Go take shelter. NOW!"

But who and what is she talking about?! Silence her, why? She’s a schoolteacher!

An explosion rang out, blowing through the bar’s heavy wooden door.

I may be allergic to injustice, but I’m not reckless. Even less in the face of an aggressor armed to the teeth. I sink under the seat, trying in vain to gather my things in my bag.

"What are you doing? You can’t…"

New detonation.

This time I see the assailant, a man dressed head to toe in black, a bandana and a hood obscuring his face. We let anyone in! What is the gate?!

When he turns around, he begins to destroy the benches one by one. Is it really me he wants? How does he know where I am? I didn’t even know I was going to be here...

Swirls spread between his fingers, before hitting the furniture a few metres from me. All that’s left are a few charred bits and a terrible burning smell. This guy is a sorcerer!

But what the hell is he doing? How does he intend to explain this attack to higher authorities? Isn’t he afraid of the sanctions?

I have to get out of here! But how? For now, he’s blocking the only exit.

I crawl with relative discretion under the tables, hiding in the shadows of the dim lights, taking advantage of the tumult of the successive explosions to progress.

Breathe.

Breathe…

But what does he want, exactly? Who would want to hurt Eli? And to me?

He’s getting closer.

He’s gonna blow me up!

I don’t want that. I do not want that.

Here, he arrives at the table which I occupied. He throws a violent wave that shatters the table, spreading the slips, in the form of confetti, throughout the room.

A piece of table hits me head-on. My forehead is busted! It pisses blood!

I’m going to die!

I struggle not to scream.

No!

NO!

Tight under my seat, clinging to my purse like a paranoid grandmother on public transport, it takes me a few seconds to realize that silence has invaded the room.

Silence?

When I open my eyes, I no longer see anything. Shadows have spread into every nook and cranny of the room, so opaque that I can’t even make out my fingers. The sorcerer disappeared as if his body had been devoured by darkness.

What happened? How is it that night surrounds us in the middle of the day?

I don’t know where to go. I’m not going to rummage around to find my damn phone. With the luck I have, I’ll end up groping the killer!

I crawl out of my hiding place and run out of the courthouse.

Outside, as in the bar, the half-light conceals the neighbourhood with its protective veil.

What did I do?

Am I able to do this?

Me?

Plunge the world into darkness...