New System, Who Dis?

Wednesday, May 1st, 2069

"You know Mirage isn't going to just let this go, right?" Mrs. Stovall said. We were currently in a small room waiting for the clock to strike ten. We'd confirmed with the Judge that I was in fact alive and ready to continue with the trial. So, she had forestalled signing a bench warrant for my arrest.

That had only taken five minutes, and I'd used the rest of the time to fill Mrs. Stovall in on what had happened in the Portal. I even told her most of the truth, too.

"The guy I made the deal with claimed they had been investing quite a bit of money to secure the park…" Smegma interjected from his place hiding below the table.

I sighed as I rubbed at my eyes with the palms of my hands. My mother and father were supposedly on their way here with a change of clothes for me—so I didn't enter the courtroom in a hospital gown over ripped and torn Miner's gear.

I just couldn't catch a break, could I? Eyes watering, I looked at Smegma before settling on Mrs. Stovall. "What am I supposed to do?"

"We could buy a Skill and kill them all?" Smegma suggested, which caused Mrs. Stovall to jerk in her chair and regard the 'monster under the bed' with a serious expression. "Kidding—what do you suggest?" His tone didn't exactly inspire confidence in me that he had actually been joking.

Plus, from my seat, I could see two of his three fingers crossed behind his back. Where had he even learned that?

"I suggest you get ahead of this. Maybe talk to Geneva and Kristen. Give enough of your story to make it clear without antagonizing Mirage. You need some way to protect yourself."

I blinked as pieces clicked into place. That was a really good plan. I pulled out my phone, realized it wasn't charged yet, and said, "Can you message them? I've got the camera with two days of footage for them."

"Does it have you getting trapped?" Mrs. Stovall asked, sounding excited despite the tragedy she was asking about.

I nodded, even as Smegma mumbled, "It might even have those shit stains abandoning you with the order to keep working."

Mrs. Stovall was already typing on her phone when I looked back up to her. She had placed a charger cable and battery pack in front of me. At my look, she explained, "When you're in court all day, it's super helpful to have access to power."

"In more ways than one," I snorted, thankful.

A man in a security uniform stuck his head in the door and said, "Mrs. Stovall, Mr. Flacarada, the Judge will be entering in five minutes."

"Thanks, Juan," Mrs. Stovall said as she put her phone back into her bag. I, on the other hand, plugged mine in and waited about thirty seconds for it to boot up—only so I could shut it off again. I'd watched enough TV to know better than to let the thing go off inside the courtroom.

A glance at Mrs. Stovall got me a nod of approval, which was confirmation enough that some things on TV were accurate.

* * *

"May it please the court?" Judge Dench gave a nod, and Mr. Varnish moved around the desk, nodding back to her. "Counsel, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, good morning. My name is Varnish, just Varnish, and I apologize for using my Hunter name, but it is simply what I'm used to nowadays. Plus, it's the best gift the people I protect ever gave me."

The jury shifted in their seats, a few of them looking moved by the man's words. The charismatic Hunter continued, and I fought to keep my face neutral. "You're going to learn in this case a lot about what it means to be a Hunter, a Skilled police officer, detective, and even private eye. As we take this journey together, you'll be made privy to some terms not often used."

Mr. Varnish walked back and forth in front of the jury box, addressing each person individually as he spoke. Meeting their eyes when they were willing, or simply passing his gaze over them if they weren't. "Terms like Cannibal and Snatcher. Terms that are known by the people I just mentioned but not the general public. Why is that?"

Mr. Varnish paused, as if waiting for a response from the jury. I thought a few even twitched like they wanted to raise a hand. Mr. Varnish answered his own question before it came to that. "It's because the terms are terrifying, beyond criminal, and should never have to be used. However, that's not the truth of the world we live in. As always, our society has had its light and dark—and for the remainder of this case, I'm going to ask you all to peel back that darkness with me. Can you do that?"

I blinked as many of the jury nodded along with Mr. Varnish. Wasn't there a time limit to these things?

"We'll start with the term Cannibal because that one is particularly important. You might ask why, and if you'll humor me, I'll get to that. Just like cannibals of the previous world, the word means to consume other humans. In this case, it means to consume the Skills of other humans—" Gasps sounded and Mr. Varnish raised his voice as he finished, "taking them for yourself."

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

A cry of alarm rang through the chamber. I glanced over my shoulder to see a relatively empty closed courtroom. Still, the cry of alarm had to have come from somewhere, right?

"Sorry," Smegma said from my shoulder. "I wanted to add something for dramatic effect."

[Stop husking around!] I ordered. Smegma rolled his eyes and began floating through the jurors as I fought my urge to glare at him. It definitely wouldn't look good to be seen angrily glaring at the people who would decide my verdict…

"—if you will. Now, a Snatcher is like a Cannibal but far rarer," Varnish explained, clearly having continued his opening statement as Smegma distracted me. "A Snatcher can take someone else's Skill and impart it to another. Usually, this is only possible when certain criteria are met."

Mr. Varnish used a hand to indicate me and Mrs. Stovall, along with John—her assistant, not her husband. "The defendant is going to try to convince you that Morgan Hallsbrad was a Snatcher, serial killer, and master criminal.

"And yet, I want you to think about the evidence that will be shown throughout this case. Think about those accusations and then on the situation Brodie Flacarada claims to have found himself in. A situation in which he faced off against not Morgan Hallsbrad, but some mythical, stone-cold Snatcher with a weapon and a body count. Let me ask you now—what are the odds that a young, F-Ranked Awakened college student would be the target of someone like that?"

Mr. Varnish returned his full attention to the Jurors. "All I ask is that you keep an open mind. Ask questions and wonder why. Why won't Brodie offer himself for a fully paid Awakening Scan? Why would Morgan Hallsbrad, accused of being a Snatcher for profit, target an F-Rank?"

He took another pregnant pause. "Or is there something else going on here? Something that I will do my best to uncover as we dive into this case."

With that, Mr. Varnish nodded to the jurors and the Judge before moving to his chair and table. His table, of course, was full with three people seated around it. I didn't see anyone I recognized from the 'settlement' meeting, but they all dressed similarly. Another five people in similar black Portal-material suits sat in the chairs behind the divider.

My breath stuttered as I observed the disparity and replayed the man's words. If I hadn't been there and experienced the moment, I might even be questioning it myself. The man was good.

Mrs. Stovall had a yellow legal pad in front of her. I hadn't noticed during Mr. Varnish's opening statement, but she clearly had been crossing out points and adding others in real time. I tilted my head to try to read what was on it—

"Mrs. Stovall, your opening statement?" Judge Dench asked. That took my attention off the legal pad. Mrs. Stovall gave me a confident smile, glanced at the pad one more time, and stood up.

"Thank you, Your Honor," Mrs. Stovall said as she moved out from the confines of her chair. She nodded respectfully to the Judge before walking around the desk and addressing the jurors. "Esteemed ladies and gentlemen of the jury, good morning. First, I'd like to take a moment to thank you for being here. Thank you for doing a duty that isn't always convenient. That, as you've just heard, isn't always savory or desirable.

"As Mr. Varnish said, you have learned some new terms—heard of new monsters in the night. Monsters that are far harder to discern than the ones on our television screens on a darkened Friday night. Monsters that Hunters have trouble protecting us from. I know from my own experience that I slept better without that knowledge."

A few of the jurors shivered and Mrs. Stovall paused. She regarded each member of the jury with a slow, panning look. It was warm and motherly, in a way I couldn't quite describe. Maybe it carried some hint of pride? Like a mother encouraging a son or daughter to be brave.

"Knowing these Monsters exist is scary. Just like it was on the days those first Portals appeared. In those first days, humans proved something. They proved that we are brave and that we will fight to survive."

Mrs. Stovall motioned to me, somehow including me in the proud mothering vibe she was giving off. "Just like Brodie Flacarada did when he was confronted by one of those Monsters. A Snatcher—the rarest kind, as Mr. Varnish told you. In that moment, Brodie faced one such monster that wanted to take everything from him."

"However, Brodie wasn't in a Portal. He could never have expected a monster like Morgan Hallsbrad to show up on campus that day. A serial killer currently facing forty-two counts of murder in the first-degree—"

"Objection, Your Honor," Mr. Varnish said, standing up. "Prejudicial. Morgan Hallsbrad is innocent until proven guilty."

Mrs. Stovall turned slowly and addressed the Judge as well, "I'm simply stating a fact, Your Honor. He is on trial—"

"Sustained. I'm going to have to side with Mr. Varnish, Mrs. Stovall. The prosecution can claim the innocence of Morgan Hallsbrad because of jurisprudence and the rights of the accused. You, however, cannot do the opposite for the same reasons. Reporter, please strike that from the record."

Mrs. Stovall nodded to the Judge and then said, "Let me rephrase. Morgan Hallsbrad is currently on trial for forty-two counts of murder in the first-degree."

Mr. Varnish hadn't sat back down. "Objection, Your Honor. Prejudicial."

"Overruled. It is a simple statement of fact, Mr. Varnish," Judge Dench countered, this time seeming to side with Mrs. Stovall. John, the assistant beside me, wrote something on a paper and slid it to me to read.

'It's bad form to object during opening statements. This is good.'

Smegma read the note over my shoulder. Scoffing, he asked, "What sort of strange song and dance is this?"

[I have no idea,] I answered mentally.

Mrs. Stovall continued, and as she spoke, I saw the rapt attention and understanding from the jury that I'd feared when Mr. Varnish had created the same thing toward himself.

The court was dismissed for the day after the opening statements, reconvening for the first witness by the prosecutor tomorrow.

Mrs. Stovall looked happy with the way things had gone—which went a long way to making me feel confident as well. I could still feel a nervous pit in my stomach, but her smile and mood alleviated some of it.

It also helped that Varnish and his team of seven other suits rushed from the room. They didn't seem angry, but they certainly weren't as happy as Mrs. Stovall and John.

"Let's get you home," Mrs. Stovall said. "We've got some things to go over, and I think Geneva and Kristen are there waiting for us."