VIII.

Romel came awake with a gasp.

The first thing he became aware of was the swarm of voices. They were not intelligible voices, in fact, they may not have been voices at all. They came across like voices, but they were more like…emotions, a mass of emotions, spilling in from everywhere, threatening to overwhelm his brain.

He sat up, holding his head. He scooted back against a bookshelf, desperate to lean on something. In a daze, for his head felt like it was splintering, he looked over toward his right. In the distance, on the other side of the library, he made out the figure of a man, the homeless man who’d smiled at him earlier. Then, with reverberating intensity, he felt what he knew were the man’s feelings. The man was angry, angry at his situation, and wanting drugs and drink. He came to the library to escape himself and this was what he was trying oh so hard to do, sitting and reading a book.

Why did Romel know this?  He turned away from the man, hoping the link would break. It didn’t. And neither did his link with every other patron in the library. He felt all their feelings: youthful exuberance, boredom, frustration, fear, joy, resentment. They were all there, all at once, too many for him to bear.

And then, just as he thought he might go mad, drowning as he was in this sea of sensation, something within him parted the sea.

It was a voice. Yes, an actual voice this time. But, it was a whisper of a voice, barely discernable above the noise. And yet, it came through clear, if only Romel listened close.

“Romel?” it asked.

“Who…who are you?” replied Romel aloud.

“I’m ‘the Calling’ placed inside you,” it said and then turned on the glow. Romel’s chest lit a bright and burning gold, radiant as the coal. “I’ll be with you now, forever. Though not always this loud.”

“What the hell?” said Romel, his hands darting to his chest. He tried concealing the light but no amount of covering could. It shone right through the gaps between his fingers, like sunrays through the figures in a stained glass window.

“You shouldn’t use language like that around me,” the voice said, dimming the light. “Now, I need you to concentrate.”

Romel, though relieved to have his chest no longer blazing like a star, wasn’t about to just hand over control of his actions to this damned, cryptic voice. “Concentrate? No, I’m not going to concentrate. I need to know what’s going on. What’s ‘the Calling,’ why are you in me, why am I feeling what everyone else feels?”

“We don’t have time for all that now, Romel. There’s a woman here, I’m sure you feel her already, who is looking to do something for which she won’t be forgiven. I want you to find her using your powers and stop her.”

“Stop her?”

“Yes, stop her. You should be forewarned, though, she is a fighter, very skilled, and she feels no pain. It will not be an easy task. But, for the occasion, I will grant you this…”

An undulation, like a small earthquake beneath his skin, suddenly swept through him. It flowed out from his chest, passed through his arms, warbled down his legs, strengthening him, swelling his musculature, making him firm. When it was done, he was a new man. He was still slim, but now, he was toned as an athlete. On instinct, he flexed his biceps, his chest, his forearms. They filled with blood, hardened, tightened, felt good. He looked down at himself in shock.

The voice said then, “Are you ready?”

Romel, who was still somewhat dumbfounded, took a minute to respond, “Ready? Ready for what?”

“Have you not been listening, Romel? To find and stop the woman.”

“Find and stop the woman?” Romel asked as though he were only now understanding what was being asked of him. “No. No, I’m not ready.”

“But, Romel, you have to be. It’s about to happen soon!”

“I’m…” Romel started, shaking his head to try and clear away the fog of feelings in his head, “I’m not doing that. I don’t want to use these powers to find anyone, or do anything else, and I definitely don’t want to fight anyone. I don’t like fighting.”

“But the fight may save her and others.”

“Yeah, I’m not interested in that. All I want,” Romel here stood, “is to go back home and be left alone.”

“What?!” the voice exclaimed. “How can you…?” It tried to ask. The words were futile. Romel had already committed himself to his choice.

He took off running, faster now than ever because of his new strength, through the aisles, to the stairs, down the stairs, through the lobby, through the foyer, and through the door, leaving behind, them and their feelings, all the people he’d encountered before, all the while the voice inside him yelling as loud as it was allowed, and all the while it went ignored.