Nicholas Vials: The Case Of Michael Vials

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The sound wormed its way into Emberline’s head, steady and unrelenting. She sat on the cold floor of Nicholas’s apartment, her knees drawn close, the scratchy hem of her coat brushing her shins. It had become a habit—a desperate, humiliating habit—to come here and wait. Wait for him. Wait for something.

She stared at the door, her eyes narrowing into slits. Her hands balled into fists, her nails pressing against her palms until the pain gave her something to focus on. I’m done waiting, she told herself, her jaw tightening. I won’t keep doing this. But she’d made the same vow to herself yesterday. And the day before.

The truth was, she didn’t even know what she was waiting for anymore.

Just as these thoughts ran across her mind, Nicholas Vials rushed in. He was heaving, his hand grappling the door handle with such urgency. His face was flushed, and he winced as he shifted his weight, his ankle clearly troubling him. There was something so trivial about his expression as he turned to see Emberline before him. First, he was relieved, then surprised, and then he interrogated her with his gaze.

“Emberline,” he acknowledged, his voice dropping to a low mumble.

“I have been meaning to talk to you,” said she.

“Thank goodness it’s just you,” he cut her off and continued. “I hope I didn’t come unannounced on you,” he said, obviously in jest as the place was his.

Emberline’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. She felt the words clogging her throat, sharp and desperate. “I’ve been waiting, Nicholas,” she said finally, her voice tight.

“For how long?” he asked, his gaze flickering back to her. He sounded half-interested, like her answer didn’t matter much.

“Two weeks,” she said flatly. “From what I recall.”

Nicholas stopped moving. He looked at her, and for the briefest moment, she thought she saw something close to guilt in his eyes. But it was gone just as quickly. He slid down the wall opposite her and folded his legs, letting out a sigh.

Tick. Tick. Tick. It wouldn't stop.

“What’s so important that you’ve been sitting here all this time?”

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of her coat. Then, in a single breath, she blurted, “There’s a policeman. Wilkes. He says you stole something—a kind of emblem—and he’s threatening to arrest me. For forgery. For fraud. He says if I don’t give it to him, he’ll take me to jail.”

Nicholas tilted his head, his face calm, as though she’d told him the weather forecast. “That’s nonsense,” he said. “They can’t take you to jail unless there’s an actual complaint.”

“You don’t understand, Nicholas,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can’t risk it. I need you to return whatever it is you took.”

He leaned back, his eyes half-lidded, as if he were already bored of the conversation. “Why would he come to you? Why not just come to me?”

“I don’t know,” she said, frustration rising. “But you have to give him what he wants.”

Nicholas ran a hand through his hair, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” he said, almost to himself.

“It’s fine. Just promise me you’ll fix it.”

Tick. Tick. Tick. It expelled any silence that settled.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood, his head cocked to the side. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That ticking.”

Emberline frowned. “It’s probably a clock. One of your neighbors, maybe.”

Nicholas shook his head, moving toward the wall. “I don’t have neighbors.”

The ticking grew louder as he pressed his hand to the plaster, his fingers tracing the surface. Emberline watched him, her unease growing. “Nicholas, stop. This isn’t helping.”

Nicholas kept walking towards the noise, his eyes intent on the walls as if searching for the source from within them.

“Emberline, you’re only as weak as you make yourself out to be. If they truly believe that you could be linked to me, then feed their idea of a criminal,” he said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his pocket knife. It was his trusty friend, his true ally, and yet as he tossed it towards Emberline, he did not feel rushed or sad to give it away.

Emberline caught the knife, its sharp end bent and hidden away, but she could still not believe how inconsiderate he was to toss her a blade.

“This does not help me, Nicholas. He could report me.”

“Emberline, he says he will do things, but he has no power over you to make you fear him—”

“This isn’t about power, Nicholas. He knows something that could ruin me.”

But he wasn’t listening. His hand stilled over a spot on the wall, and without warning, he slammed his fist into it. The plaster cracked, and a small watch tumbled out, its hands spinning. Emberline flinched, her voice shrilling into a small scream as he jammed his hand into the hole he had created in the wall, then withdrew it.

“What is that?” Emberline asked, her voice a whisper.

Nicholas didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on the watch, which was connected to a thin wire trailing into a small hole. He leaned closer, peering through the gap. His face paled.

“It’s a trap,” he said, his voice barely audible.

“What?” Emberline took a step back.

“The room next door. It’s filled with dynamite.” He turned to her, his expression suddenly fierce. “You need to leave. Now.”

“Nicholas—”

“Go!” he shouted, his voice cracking with urgency. “Clear the street. Get everyone out of here.”

She hesitated for a heartbeat, then turned on her heel and ran.

Outside, the street was crowded, people gathered around a fruit stall, their laughter cutting through the cold air. Emberline waved her arms, trying to shout a warning, but the words stuck in her throat.

And then it happened.

The explosion tore through the air, a deafening roar that sent shards of wood and glass flying. The ground shook beneath her feet as flames swallowed the building. Emberline fell to her knees, her ears ringing, her chest tight with panic. The entire building went up in flames, its wooden planks flying in the air, piercing flesh and bones alike.

She stared at the blaze, her breath hitching in sharp gasps. Somewhere in the chaos, Nicholas’s name caught in her throat, but she couldn’t bring herself to say it aloud.