Chapter Two: The Weirdo on Maple Street I

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It didn't take a lot of persuading from Mike before they realized that the pair would stay in his basement. Mike knew that if it was just the girl alone, Dustin and Lucas would very adamantly refuse to bring her in. But in this case, the mystery man was with her.

The man had already sparked multiple questions that morning when he 'randomly' passed by and defended them. Throughout the entire day, their minds had been running,

'Who is this guy?'

'Why is he here?'

'How'd he get all those scars?'

'Is he willing to share the waffles?'

Finally, they could ask him everything they had wondered between those 12 hours. They noticed that he seemed more carefree and willing to talk compared to the girl.

The five of them were walking back to Mike's house. They had spent the majority of time walking in silence, but soon the boy's questions were overflowing and they couldn't help themselves. They were all incoherently shouting questions at the man, their caution being swept to the side by curiosity. The last question, 'Do you have any leftover waffles?' seemed to float between the four of them before settling. The tension was cut when they heard the man laugh, somehow, their problems melted away.

It was easy to tell that the guy standing in front of them was battle hardened and experienced. The look in his eyes, showing pain and guilt, the layers of scars on every inch of his body, and yet his laugh was carefree and jovial, head tilted back and eyes closed as he lightly chuckled, filling up the silence.

The boys watched him, and their body's relaxed, immediately, they knew they could trust him.

He spoke softly, as if to reassure them, "Look, guys... I can't answer your questions if I can't hear them."

Mike started, "Who are you?"

The question was simple enough but instantaneously, the man in front of him stiffened up and the smile was gone, not a single trace left. They didn't expect him to answer,

"Give me one good reason as to why we should trust you."

The trio stared at each other, truly, they had no good reason. They were children, curious and eager to soak up as much information as possible. They opened their mouths and closed it, opened and closed, opened and closed. Finally, Mike did what most kids do, splurt out what first came to their head,

"Our friend is missing and we're desperate to find him. We need as much help as we can get."

Instantly, Percy felt something strike him, a memory far away that caused him to sympathize with the boy in front of him. So he smiled. And stuck out his hand.

"I'm Percy." The charming yet crooked smile was back on his face, "And that's El." He gestured to the girl beside him. He leaned towards the boys, "But that's all I'm willing to tell you in public."

They only shared a confused glance, walking faster than before desperate for answers. Soon, they have sneaked into Mike's basement.

The basement is roomy and neat. It seems that only the boys use the room, no other family members daring to enter. The boys are seated on the lumpy brown couch, and Percy and El sit opposite from them on a leather ottoman.

They stare at Percy, they had already seemed to pick up on the fact that El doesn't talk. Dustin opens his mouth to ask the first question when Lucas interrupts him,

"Wait, hold up. How do we know that we can trust you?" He begrudgingly continues, "Clearly, you could easily kill us all."

Percy only gives his signature crooked smile, "Trust me, if I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead by now."

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