The Complete Story ARC
3 YEARS AGO
Peter, wearing jeans and a hoodie, checks the papers
in his hands as he crouches next to a fireplace. His black
hair shines a bit, illuminated by the warm glow of fire in a
dark room. The only other light coming from the screen of
a laptop next to him. He tosses the papers he used to make
identification into the flames, then compares a new passport
to his old one. He turns slightly while slipping the
new fake passport into a pocket and we see his tear-filled face. He wipes
his eye with his sleeve and then grabs an iron poker to stir the
fire, ensuring every bit of the old documents burn. He stirs a
little extra as if he is lost in his thoughts. His tears increase.
The screen of his laptop is erasing his hard drive.
A message pops up, “Files deleted and replaced. Extracting
myself now. Be safe, Peter.”
Peter carries the computer to a desk in a wall of
cabinets and bookshelves and places it in the center, open. He
pauses to look at his old passport then gently lays it next to
his computer as if he is saying goodbye to an old friend. This
bedroom, a dorm in the academy where he has lived most
of his life is ultra luxurious. Dark wood paneled walls, thick
velvet blue curtains, which are closed now, and a bed laden
with overstuffed yet soft pillows, fresh linens and thick
comforter encased in an embroidered duvet.
Peter rolls up a blanket as he watches the last of the
embers dissolve into red glow, then black ash. Stuffing the
blanket into his pack, he zips it, straps it on, and takes one
last look around. Pausing, he sighs sadly.
Opening the door of his room just a bit, he peers out.
The hallway is dark and still. Peter sneaks out then closes the
door behind him quietly.
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