Emmerick Engel by Joey Lo (ebook e reader .txt) đź“•
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Emmerick Engel lives in an area where everybody follows the same types of rules. He is the only one that wants to resist these rules- even his mother wants to stop him from resisting. When his father is kicked off to go to war, Emmerick must take the decision to patch up their differences between the rest of the community.
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different, twisted one. If she expands these rules, Canava won’t even attack. We’ll just live in peace, with everyone.”
I glared icily at him. He wasn’t getting the point. “Dad, if that’s what she really wants, I doubt she would set up all these rules. Why not just terrorize the people so that they do whatever she wants?”
He played with a piece of string from his tunic before answering, “It’s not about her. It’s about everybody else in the valley.”
“What about them?”
“She doesn’t want to lose any of them…” he said, then muttered under his breath. “I hate that son of hers!”
I braced myself. Irina’s son was Matt Kormel. “What are you talking about?”
He continued to play with the string, not meeting my eyes. “Um, listen, Emmerick… there’s a reason why I’m in this dungeon right now…”
“Go on,” I prompted.
“Er… all right. I got promoted as the soldier for the war…but one day, when I was doing patrol, I heard Matt and Irina talking…It seems that Matt is the one who told Canava to attack. I was caught by the guards before I found out why though. And then I ended up here.”
“Matt, huh? I never would’ve guessed,” I said sarcastically. “Until this morning.”
He gave me a quizzically look, then said, “Now it’s my turn to hear about what you’ve been doing.”
I gave a small laugh, then told him the whole story following this morning’s Morning Bell, from when Matt had asked me why I was French, and all the way to this point, including the argument between my mother and I.
“So, what do you think?” I asked when I was done.
“It seems like Irina’s not the evil one here. I believe Matt is the one. When I was eavesdropping on the two, Matt sounded very bossy. And Irina sounded very scared. I guess I know why.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” I questioned while my thoughts were jumping everywhere.
My dad gave a huge sigh, and pointed a long finger at me. “You’re half French and half-German because of parentage, right?”
“Yeah, everybody in my class seems to think it’s weird, but I find it nice that there’s not just one heritage around.”
“Remember our trips to North Korea? How everyone is forced never to leave and only one person is allowed control?” he asked.
“Yeah. Communism, right?” I asked, slowly rubbing my head, where it felt really painful. “Ouch, I think those guys probably hit me unconscious.”
“Yes, communism. I don’t think Irina realizes this, but she is being very communist right now,” He replied, ignoring my comment on my head.
“So that’s why she says that everyone’s equal, but she actually has a better rule than others?” I asked.
He suddenly looked fed up. “No, not her, you dumb wit! Her son Matt is the problem!”
“Weren’t we just talking about Irina-?” I asked, but was interrupted by a sharp kick from my dad.
“How-dumb-are-you?” he hissed through his teeth.
My eyes travelled down to his hands which were balled up into fists. Was he going to punch me? It wasn’t really my fault that I didn’t understand; I just couldn’t.
“Carl, I just don’t get it. How about this: tell me the whole story from the beginning to end,” I offered.
His eyes darted wildly at me, but he surely, but slowly frowned. “Listen up, Emmerick. Being a soldier means you don’t listen to things twice. Once something’s ordered of you, you do it whether you like it or not.”
“I’m not a soldier though,” I countered. “You are.”
“Soldiers are supposed to treat their sons like soldiers- remember the Soldier Law?” he sneered.
All right, this guy was really starting to get on my nerves. “ Dad, I don't care about some dumb law. Uniqueness is the best; don't you see? It gives colour to the valley!”
“All the colour in this valley is going to be red- right after I PUNCH YOUR NOSE FOR TALKING TO ME LIKE THAT!” he roared and flung one fist at my face.
"Watch it, Carl Engel. Remember the Violence Law," grunted a hoarse voice from beyond the barred door.
My father stopped his throw a centimetre away from my nose. He muttered something like, "Fine, fine, I'll tell you."
"So is the source of all my problems revolving around Matt or Irina?" I growled.
"Both. But mostly Matt," he replied. "Irina's just an accomplice. At least that's what I think."
I gave him a small smile and responded, "I'll take your word for it."
He stared at me for a few more seconds, then closed them, saying, "So what Hayley told you was right. You are too nice to believe. So, yes. I don't believe you."
I frowned in disbelief at him. "Mom said I was too nice? Hmph, she'll think I'm the meanest person after what I said to her before I came here... And what do you mean by you won't believe me?"
He flashed a devilish grin at me. "Don't you get it? Why should you trust me? After all, we both have different perspectives on how life is."
"Wha-" I blurted. "Aren't you on my side?"
"I'm on my own side. That's how I think life should be," he snorted.
"You mean-"
"Yes. I don't like how that old witch Irina and you think. Both of you should be thinking like me," Carl explained. "Is that unique enough for you?"
"No! You aren't going to-" my tongue refused to form the words. I was scared of what my dad could mean- or I hoped, what he joke about.
"You know what I'm going to do. Say it," he smirked, then seeing the expression on my face, said, "Oh, cat got your tongue?"
I was frozen in fear. My own father wouldn't- he couldn't!
He glanced at my forlorn expression, and sighed. "Must I do everything? You think I'm going to kill you because your thoughts are completly different from mine. Well, you're wrong, Emmerick- at least half wrong."
"S-so, y-you're not going to k-kill me?" I stuttered.
"I might. But I'll give you another option. You can either die right now, or I'll be happy to make you my faithful worker, of course, with my rules and lifestyle- the new one."
I struggled with my thoughts. Here was what I came up with: if I became his "faithful" worker, there was no point in my uniqueness dream to the valley. But if I died, then nothing was ever going to happen. Irina or Matt, whoever, was going to rule the valley, and even if Carl was finally in control, he'd just do everything he wanted, instead of differences for people.
"Dad, I know you think that your thoughts are the best. But what if someone like Matt or Irina actually had better thoughts? What would you do?"
He snorted in disgust. "I'm the one who knows the valley best. Everyone likes me."
"No, not everyone," I summed up, improvising strategically, but not so well.
"You aren't going to make yourself that one "everyone", are you?" he asked.
"Of course not. Why would I do that? Anyway, can I ask you something before I tell you who? Now, please answer truthfully."
"Heh, since you sound like that's your last wish before you die, I'll let you in on a few truths. Ask away!"
I gulped, and asked, "Honestly, do you like Matt? Would you rather have him as a son or me?"
He looked surprised. At firstr I thought he was going to yell at me in anger, but instead, he laughed. "Matt? Of course I'd rather have him as a son! After all, he was the one who inspired me to innovate this world!"
"But I thought you hated him," I questioned suspiciously.
"Oh that; I was trying to soften you up before you found youself in the world of the dead." he chuckled.
" Oh, all right. So you do like Matt," I said, relieved, as I now had something to pin him down with (metaphorically, of course). "What if I told you that Matt did not and would not ever like you as an ally, much less as a father?"
"W-What do you mean?" he staggered.
Excellent; my plan was working; it just had to last until this was over! "Dad, Matt doesn't like the French. And what are you? Oh, right. You're French."
"Where's your proof?" he boomed, after a second's hesitance.
"Remember the whole conversation with him this morning about my heritage? That's my proof," I answered confidently.
Carl's eyes flicked wide. He began muttering," No, no, no! He was supposed to be my partner on my scheme to take over the valley! If he doesn't like me, how is he supposed to work with me?"
I posed myself over Carl, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, head in his hands.
"Carl, the whole point of this is to show you that you can't have everything you want," I
I glared icily at him. He wasn’t getting the point. “Dad, if that’s what she really wants, I doubt she would set up all these rules. Why not just terrorize the people so that they do whatever she wants?”
He played with a piece of string from his tunic before answering, “It’s not about her. It’s about everybody else in the valley.”
“What about them?”
“She doesn’t want to lose any of them…” he said, then muttered under his breath. “I hate that son of hers!”
I braced myself. Irina’s son was Matt Kormel. “What are you talking about?”
He continued to play with the string, not meeting my eyes. “Um, listen, Emmerick… there’s a reason why I’m in this dungeon right now…”
“Go on,” I prompted.
“Er… all right. I got promoted as the soldier for the war…but one day, when I was doing patrol, I heard Matt and Irina talking…It seems that Matt is the one who told Canava to attack. I was caught by the guards before I found out why though. And then I ended up here.”
“Matt, huh? I never would’ve guessed,” I said sarcastically. “Until this morning.”
He gave me a quizzically look, then said, “Now it’s my turn to hear about what you’ve been doing.”
I gave a small laugh, then told him the whole story following this morning’s Morning Bell, from when Matt had asked me why I was French, and all the way to this point, including the argument between my mother and I.
“So, what do you think?” I asked when I was done.
“It seems like Irina’s not the evil one here. I believe Matt is the one. When I was eavesdropping on the two, Matt sounded very bossy. And Irina sounded very scared. I guess I know why.”
“What in the world are you talking about?” I questioned while my thoughts were jumping everywhere.
My dad gave a huge sigh, and pointed a long finger at me. “You’re half French and half-German because of parentage, right?”
“Yeah, everybody in my class seems to think it’s weird, but I find it nice that there’s not just one heritage around.”
“Remember our trips to North Korea? How everyone is forced never to leave and only one person is allowed control?” he asked.
“Yeah. Communism, right?” I asked, slowly rubbing my head, where it felt really painful. “Ouch, I think those guys probably hit me unconscious.”
“Yes, communism. I don’t think Irina realizes this, but she is being very communist right now,” He replied, ignoring my comment on my head.
“So that’s why she says that everyone’s equal, but she actually has a better rule than others?” I asked.
He suddenly looked fed up. “No, not her, you dumb wit! Her son Matt is the problem!”
“Weren’t we just talking about Irina-?” I asked, but was interrupted by a sharp kick from my dad.
“How-dumb-are-you?” he hissed through his teeth.
My eyes travelled down to his hands which were balled up into fists. Was he going to punch me? It wasn’t really my fault that I didn’t understand; I just couldn’t.
“Carl, I just don’t get it. How about this: tell me the whole story from the beginning to end,” I offered.
His eyes darted wildly at me, but he surely, but slowly frowned. “Listen up, Emmerick. Being a soldier means you don’t listen to things twice. Once something’s ordered of you, you do it whether you like it or not.”
“I’m not a soldier though,” I countered. “You are.”
“Soldiers are supposed to treat their sons like soldiers- remember the Soldier Law?” he sneered.
All right, this guy was really starting to get on my nerves. “ Dad, I don't care about some dumb law. Uniqueness is the best; don't you see? It gives colour to the valley!”
“All the colour in this valley is going to be red- right after I PUNCH YOUR NOSE FOR TALKING TO ME LIKE THAT!” he roared and flung one fist at my face.
"Watch it, Carl Engel. Remember the Violence Law," grunted a hoarse voice from beyond the barred door.
My father stopped his throw a centimetre away from my nose. He muttered something like, "Fine, fine, I'll tell you."
"So is the source of all my problems revolving around Matt or Irina?" I growled.
"Both. But mostly Matt," he replied. "Irina's just an accomplice. At least that's what I think."
I gave him a small smile and responded, "I'll take your word for it."
He stared at me for a few more seconds, then closed them, saying, "So what Hayley told you was right. You are too nice to believe. So, yes. I don't believe you."
I frowned in disbelief at him. "Mom said I was too nice? Hmph, she'll think I'm the meanest person after what I said to her before I came here... And what do you mean by you won't believe me?"
He flashed a devilish grin at me. "Don't you get it? Why should you trust me? After all, we both have different perspectives on how life is."
"Wha-" I blurted. "Aren't you on my side?"
"I'm on my own side. That's how I think life should be," he snorted.
"You mean-"
"Yes. I don't like how that old witch Irina and you think. Both of you should be thinking like me," Carl explained. "Is that unique enough for you?"
"No! You aren't going to-" my tongue refused to form the words. I was scared of what my dad could mean- or I hoped, what he joke about.
"You know what I'm going to do. Say it," he smirked, then seeing the expression on my face, said, "Oh, cat got your tongue?"
I was frozen in fear. My own father wouldn't- he couldn't!
He glanced at my forlorn expression, and sighed. "Must I do everything? You think I'm going to kill you because your thoughts are completly different from mine. Well, you're wrong, Emmerick- at least half wrong."
"S-so, y-you're not going to k-kill me?" I stuttered.
"I might. But I'll give you another option. You can either die right now, or I'll be happy to make you my faithful worker, of course, with my rules and lifestyle- the new one."
I struggled with my thoughts. Here was what I came up with: if I became his "faithful" worker, there was no point in my uniqueness dream to the valley. But if I died, then nothing was ever going to happen. Irina or Matt, whoever, was going to rule the valley, and even if Carl was finally in control, he'd just do everything he wanted, instead of differences for people.
"Dad, I know you think that your thoughts are the best. But what if someone like Matt or Irina actually had better thoughts? What would you do?"
He snorted in disgust. "I'm the one who knows the valley best. Everyone likes me."
"No, not everyone," I summed up, improvising strategically, but not so well.
"You aren't going to make yourself that one "everyone", are you?" he asked.
"Of course not. Why would I do that? Anyway, can I ask you something before I tell you who? Now, please answer truthfully."
"Heh, since you sound like that's your last wish before you die, I'll let you in on a few truths. Ask away!"
I gulped, and asked, "Honestly, do you like Matt? Would you rather have him as a son or me?"
He looked surprised. At firstr I thought he was going to yell at me in anger, but instead, he laughed. "Matt? Of course I'd rather have him as a son! After all, he was the one who inspired me to innovate this world!"
"But I thought you hated him," I questioned suspiciously.
"Oh that; I was trying to soften you up before you found youself in the world of the dead." he chuckled.
" Oh, all right. So you do like Matt," I said, relieved, as I now had something to pin him down with (metaphorically, of course). "What if I told you that Matt did not and would not ever like you as an ally, much less as a father?"
"W-What do you mean?" he staggered.
Excellent; my plan was working; it just had to last until this was over! "Dad, Matt doesn't like the French. And what are you? Oh, right. You're French."
"Where's your proof?" he boomed, after a second's hesitance.
"Remember the whole conversation with him this morning about my heritage? That's my proof," I answered confidently.
Carl's eyes flicked wide. He began muttering," No, no, no! He was supposed to be my partner on my scheme to take over the valley! If he doesn't like me, how is he supposed to work with me?"
I posed myself over Carl, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, head in his hands.
"Carl, the whole point of this is to show you that you can't have everything you want," I
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