Chapter Text
The hustle and bustle of the train station was a dull roar in Impulse’s ears. It wasn’t far from the river he was near; the river he was throwing his dreams into. The tearing sound of paper could barely be heard over the noise of the city and the noise of the river. And as he watched each page fragment fall into the river, he reflected on himself.
Why am I so scared? Why am I so scared to understand myself?
He thought back to the meeting that had led him here.
“Your programming is amazing, no doubt,” the representative said with a smile, a fake smile, Impulse knew. “But something’s missing.”
The cold air of the game developers' studio made Impulse wish he’d brought a jacket.
“Your Game is near technical perfection, but…” The man looked up from the computer in front of him, “It’s lacking soul, the story… feels lifeless. Like you don’t understand what you’re trying to say. "
Impulse didn’t respond; he knew the man was right.
“I’m sorry, your game just isn’t right for our company.”
Impulse took a deep breath and released it, standing up and gathering the booklet of his presentation.
As he was packing up, the representative said, “You’re what… 29? It might be time to stop chasing this career and be a little more realistic.”
Impulse figured he was probably right, after all, this was his tenth rejection. Each time he’d tried a different game, a different company… nothing.
Footsteps sounded all around him as he re-entered the busy train station to go home. Idle conversation, laughter, and frustration. All just noise around him, he even heard the news on someone’s personal radio.
“And the 2006 tournament of sports had drawn to a close, with the top teams breaking records…”
He adjusted his collar; he already regretted wearing such a nice shirt. The announcement rang; his train was here.
He managed to get a seat by himself, and as they began to move, Impulse absentmindedly watched the city go by.
If I’d done something different, things would be better.
He’d thought those words every day for so long he’d forgotten what they meant. Not that he cared much. They were just words that ran through his mind. They left as soon as they came.
He pulled out a notebook with a lowercase i printed on the front in vibrant yellow. Opening it to a new page, he tried to think of new ideas, but nothing came up. Leaning back and staring at the ceiling, he wondered…
Why am I so scared? Why am I so scared to understand myself?
“Hey Impulse!” His manager called, “You got those latest orders?”
“Yeah, no problem, Martyn.” Impulse rolled his eyes and grabbed a stack of pizzas and headed towards the door.
“Hey!” The blonde manager called back, “Don’t forget about what we discussed earlier, about your future here!”
“I won’t.” Impulse pushed open the front door with his hip. I probably will, I don’t want to spend the rest of my life at this greasy joint. But it wasn’t like he had anywhere better to go.
“Hey, I’m going out on a delivery to!” Called Impulse’s co-worker to their manager as she rushed past him. Balancing the pizza in one hand while opening the door with the other. Her red hair seemed redder in the May sun.
“Hey Impulse, don’t drop those pizzas! It’d be a terrible mess to clean up,” Gem laughed, heading to her bike.
Man, is that what’s funny to kids these days? He packed the pizzas into the back compartment of his scooter.
“I won’t,” He replied apathetically. Hopping on the vehicle.
Here’s a fun fact: Gem says that to me every day. He thought to himself as he passed a comic book shop.
As far as I can tell, she doesn’t care about me in the slightest.
A school group passed by on a field trip.
Not that I care, she's so young- so weird.
A mother was rocking her crying baby.
I guess I just don’t understand teenagers… they’re so strange.
A little boy was preparing to cross the street, all alone.
Now, where was that first delivery supposed to go?
A charity event was starting in the park.
Ugh, I can’t remember.
A truck passed by.
Then Impulse saw something out of the corner of his eye. Looking up, he could just barely make out the outline of a blue translucent Butterfly against the clear blue sky.
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Impulse looked up, catching his breath. He was still on the road… he began to look around.
A comic shop passed by, then a school group, a mother, and a little boy-
Crap it happened again!
A charity event passed.
Find it, come on, find it!
Then he felt it, as the truck passed, and he saw- the driver's hand was limping at the wheel.
I’m such an idiot.
He pulled a 180 and began racing to catch the truck.
“HEY, STOP THE TRUCK!”
He began to close in on the front of the truck, and now he could see that the driver was asleep at the wheel.
Crap this is bad, He realized as he saw the boy he’d passed earlier slowly begin to cross the street.
Impulse began to bang on the driver’s door, trying to get him to wake up. No use.
Why am I bothering…. Why am I bothering?! He questioned himself as he reached through the (luckily) open window to grab the steering wheel.
The little boy was frozen in fright as the truck was headed straight towards him.
Impulse reached for the wheel again. WHY AM I BOTHERING?!! Images of something, or someone- a hero, he used to love flashed briefly in his mind.
His sweaty palms slipped off the wheel, but he grabbed the driver's sleeve. He pulled the man’s arm down and-
He swerved the truck just barely avoiding the kid frozen in the street.
Impulse had a moment of relief, till he looked ahead to the oncoming traffic and saw a car heading straight towards him.
A crash filled his ears. And that was all he remembered.
Snow, snow was falling. Smoke came from warm homes. The image changed, and it was a festival. Bright lights filled his vision.
Wait, what is this?
He was young, barely five, and A woman- his mother- put a mask a silly mask on his face and laughed. The memories had no color.
Oh, my life- Is this what they mean by flashing before your eyes?
He was older but still just a kid, and a group of other kids playing soccer began encouraging him to play. It was in the dead of winter.
I guess this is what happens when you bother to help.
More snow; he was walking by the park. It was late, and he was young.
Well, if I died, I guess I’m dead, what does it really matter… Wait, who’s that? He stopped and looked.
A girl was standing all alone in a bright red coat. Her hair blowing in the cold ice cold wind. There was a scar across her eye.
Then she turned to him and said-
“Your eyes are open!”
The beeping sound of machines filled Impulse’s mind as slowly his eyes opened.
“It’s about time! You were out for nearly three days!”
Gem was sitting by his hospital bed, a smile on her face to see him awake again. Her hair was tied into two waist-length braids, and her green eyes simmered behind her glasses. Her blue jacket was tied around her waist, and some kind of book was resting in her lap.
“Three days?” He muttered.
“Mmmhhmm!” She nodded, shutting her book. “So… you remember who you are and how you got here?”
Impulse sighed, letting his head sink into his pillow. “Impulse Siv, I’m 29 and I had a direct collision with a car.” He recounted.
“That’s great!” She clapped her hands together, “Well, not that you nearly died!” She quickly corrected herself, “But that-“
“Yeah, I get what you’re saying.” He closed his eyes; the lights were too bright.
Gem leaned forward. “So… do you want me to like, call anyone? I mean, now that you’re awake, like a roommate or like a girlfriend or something?”
“No… I don’t really have anyone to tell,” Impulse answered apathetically as he tried to ignore the pounding pain in his head.
“Snip, snip,” Gem said with an equally expressionless voice, making a scissor motion with her fingers.
“What kind of a joke is that?” Impulse asked, looking at her.
“I’m trying to cut through the hard shell you’re trapped in.” She said plainly. “You seem like the kind of guy who doesn’t care at all for the people around him. You seem hard to reach. You don’t laugh.” She sat up, “But after the other day, I realized that’s not it at all. I saw you save that kid's life! And that truck driver- he died of a stroke! How in the world did you notice something like that!!”
“Luck I guess.” Impulse sighed; the truth would always be too hard to explain.
“Well, you and the driver were the only two hurt! Can you believe that luck!” Gem crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.
“Yeah… but the bike-“
“Oh, don’t worry,” Gem opened the book she had again, “Martyn said insurance would cover that. And when you’re feeling better, come back to work!”
Impulse felt a little bit more relieved, and as he stared at the ceiling, he remembered a question he’d wanted to ask for a while.
“Gem, why do you work there? The pizza place I mean.”
“Whoa, no one’s ever asked me that question before!” She exclaimed, looking up.
“Really?”
“Nope!” She looked down at her book, then back up at Impulse. “Well, I work there because I need money, and well, I need money because I have a dream!”
“Oh, that’s cool.”
“What, you’re not even going to ask me what it is?” She exclaimed, crossing her arms.
“Well, what if it doesn’t come true?” He asked, thinking about torn pieces of paper flowing down the river.
“If I tell others about it- well, I just think it’ll be easier to achieve! The more you talk about something, the more likely it is to happen, right?”
I’ve heard that before…
“You know what!” Gem shut her book and stood up, “I think I won’t tell you, I mean, we’re not close or anything.”
“Okay…”
“I’ll tell the nurse that you’re up and in full health, and I’ll be on my way home.” Gem shut the door behind her.
What a weird girl.
Impulse climbed into the taxi that he’d just flagged down to take him to his lonely one-bedroom apartment. Strangely, someone had come and paid the hospital bill, and he had a sneaking suspicion who.
He told the driver his address, and the drive began. And he began replaying the incident in his mind again.
I call it revival, and it always happens before something bad, normally life-threatening, happens. It sends me back in time one to five minutes to find something that’s not right and fix it. I don’t benefit from it, and I don’t get let out of the loop till it’s fixed. I’ve stopped tons of terrible things from happening. Most of the time, everything comes out even, but sometimes-
Impulse was hit with a sharp pain in his head.
It comes out negatively for me.
This power, wherever it came from, or whatever it was, Impulse had no control over it. He always played along, and at times, he didn’t even know why. It didn’t interfere too much with his life; to everyone else, he was just insanely lucky.
They passed by the crossing where it had all gone down, and Impulse turned away.
This was just the lot he was given in life he supposed.
Impulse was fumbling with the keys to his apartment when he noticed it was already unlocked. He sighed, and the faint sound of sizzling food was coming from inside.
So that’s what that smell was.
He opened the door, and just as he expected, she was there, making what looked like bacon.
“Hey Impulse”
“Hi Cleo…” His voice was raised with suspicion.
Even though she was his mother, he’d called her Cleo for as long as he could remember. He only ever called her mom when things were bad.
She had stitches all up and down her face, from an accident that had happened long before Impulse had been born, and long orange hair. (The same color she’d been dying it for the last 20 years)
“So, how’s your head?” She asked as he pulled off his jacket to hang it up.
“It’s alright.” He responded, hanging up the jacket.
“I heard you drove into a car.” She stated matter-of-factly, “I thought you knew not to drive on the wrong side of the road?” She laughed at her own joke and went back to cooking. “I went to visit you, but you were out cold and I got bored. I’m glad you gave me the spare key to this place.” She turned the heat up on the stove.
Wow, Cleo’s not even been her 24 hrs., and she’s already bored with my face, huh? I can’t believe it, and I’m her kid, but she’s 52, and she still looks 25 years younger than that!
“I’ll be staying for a while.”
“What do you mean you’re staying?” Impulse whipped his head around.
“Impulse, you hit a car, goodness, didn’t you expect me to do nothing?” She turned off the stove.
He thought about his lonely cot where he slept (It was too expensive to buy a bed) “Where will you sleep?!”
“I saw the sleeping bag in the closet. I’ll make do. Come on, kid, let's eat.” She handed him a plate of bacon and some chips.
Wow, what a meal.
“By the way, can you get to the west side of the city while avoiding the slums?” Cleo asked, biting a piece of bacon.
“Yeah…” Impulse nodded, thinking, “Wait, are you going to go sightseeing!?”
“I was on a four-hour trip, I might as well make it worth it!”
“Sorry, I took the cot” Cleo looked up at Impulse as she set down an empty can.
“I don’t care, it’s cool.” Impulse shrugged, heading to the kitchen. She didn’t come four hours today, I guess, but I’ll have to step around her to use the bathroom in the middle of the night- that’ll suck
Cleo called from the other room, “Oh, don’t worry about stepping around me tonight, I’m going to sleep so good.”
Impulse took a sip of water as he came back to the bedroom,
Witch
The TV was blaring, “And today the girl who went missing from her parents' backyard has been found walking all alone by the side of the road out in the county. Local authorities-“
“Impulse… do you remember when this happened before?”
Impulse looked up from the TV, “Huh?”
“Kids disappearing, you probably don’t.” Cleo stretched, “Back when you were in fifth grade. All of us decided it would probably be better for you kids to forget about it, so it’s okay if you can’t remember.”
She looked up at him and brown eye met green.
“maybe it’s better if you don’t”
Impulse started intensely at the ceiling. The sleeping bag was far from comfortable on the hard floor. The only light came from the digital clock hanging up on the wall.
When I was a kid… kidnappings?
He closed his eyes, trying to remember. Then it clicked, and he gasped. An old wound reopened.
That’s right, two of my classmates- they disappeared, and a girl at the other school…
Memories of sitting alone…he was only seven here.
I was a shy kid.
A guy approached, a nervous smile on his face.
Then I met this local guy, Zed- that wasn’t his full name but it’s what everyone called him. He’d play and talk with me
“S-so, you want to know how to act like the other kids?” Zed had asked, and Impulse had nodded.
“W-well, think about the most popular kid you know. What’s he like?”
“H-he’s nice and talks to others- he’s kinda silly…”
“Then just be like that! Have courage, you know?” Zed had smiled
“Whoa!”
“After all, with courage, anything’s possible, right?”
6 months after everyone went missing, they arrested Zedaph Brown, with charges of kidnapping and murder.
That was Zed’s real name.
⎓ꖎᔑᓭ⍑╎リ⊣ ʖᒷ⎓𝙹∷ᒷ ᒲ|| ᒷ||ᒷᓭ
“Cleo, why’d you buy so much stuff?!” Impulse complained holding up the heavy bag.
“If I’m here, I might as well do the cooking.” She laughed “Impulse, you can’t live off instant noodles and microwave meals forever.”
I’ve been doing it for the last seven years just fine. He sighed, looking around, and maybe inspiration for a new game would strike him.
A kid was crying because his mother wouldn’t buy him an ice cream, a little girl had fallen and scraped her knee, and a balloon salesman had lost his balloons to the sky.
Among the balloons, his eyes caught a shimmering blue butterfly.
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“You good?” Cleo asked, turning her head around.
“What? Oh yeah.” Impulse replied, looking around.
“Good, if I’m here, I might as well do the cooking. Impulse, you can’t live off instant noodles and microwave meals forever.
There it is again!!
Impulse’s eyes began to dart around. A kid crying, the small girl holding her knee…
Nothing feels wrong, come on!
The balloons flew into the sky-
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“You good?” Cleo asked, turning her head around.
“What? Oh yeah.”
Crap, I didn’t find it in time!
He began to look around more nervously.
“Good, if I'm here-“
“Cleo, do you notice anything?”
The little boy was crying again.
“What do you mean?”
The little girl scraped her knee.
“I don’t know, just look around; something feels off.”
Cleo sighed, turning her head, “Impulse, you were always such a strange kid, you used to stay stuff like this…” she turned her head.
Balloons flew off.
Her eyes caught something. She was unsure at first; it was a man wearing glasses and a hat, clearly trying to hide his face. Cleo could see piercing eyes shifting away from her. He was holding hands with a little girl.
Creep, was he looking at me?
Her eyes followed him as he walked with the little girl towards a car. Getting in he left her behind and drove off.
Thinking quickly Cleo pulled out and flipped open her phone to snap a picture of the license plate.
Hmmmmm….
What happened? Did I stop something? Impulse looked around he could almost tell that everything was alright now, but- what had changed?
“Impulse!! Hey” A bright and cheery voice called.
Gem was waving to him across the street.
“No way, that’s your mom!?” Gem asked in a hushed whisper. She was walking with the pair of them, and the sun was nearly set now. “She looks so young!”
“You think witches are real?” He asked
“I definitely do now.” She gasped. “Whoa, she looks mad at you.”
“No, she always looks like that.” Impulse rolled his eyes.
“Gem, would you like to come over for dinner?” Cleo asked, turning to the girl.
“Aww, of course I would!”
Impulse sighed, great.
None of them knew that from the shadows - they were being watched.
“ No way you're a game developer?” Gem exclaimed, looking up from her phone.
“How'd you know that?” Impulse asked setting the table.
“I looked you up! And it's online so it's obviously true!”
“Yeah, I published one game- but it didn’t go very far'
Guess the world wasn’t ready for “Go Touch Grass.”
“So that’s why you work at the pizza place, you want to make games!” Gem concluded, carefully setting a glass of water down.
“Yeah, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen.” Impulse muttered, biting his lip.
“You never know!” Gem smiled.
“Alright food's ready!” Cleo called, bringing a couple plates of spaghetti.
“That looks so good,” Gem sighed.
Cleo smiled, setting the plates down, “Well, it tastes even better.” They all pulled Chairs up to the table, “Dig in!”
Impulse didn’t really think much about the food as they ate; his mind was still stuck in the parking lot. If he didn’t change anything, why did he have a revival? Was there something else going on?
After some light conversation, they finished eating, and Gem began helping Cleo clean up.
Impulse just watched, thinking…
“Thank you so much, Miss Siv!” Gem grabbed her bag to leave.
Cleo poured herself a glass of water. “Please just call me Cleo, everyone does.”
“Thanks Cleo!”
“I'll give you a ride to the station,” Impulse offered, standing up.
“Thanks, but I’m good, and I could use the fresh air.” Gem adjusted the deer-shaped pin on her bag, and waved goodbye to both of them.
“Cute girl,” Cleo commented as the door shut.
“Nope, not going there* Impulse crosses his arms, seeing through his mother's tricks.
“Just sayin',” Cleo took a sip of water.
Impulse turned to head to the bedroom-
“Hey, in the parking lot today…”
“Hmm?” Impulse turned.
“I think you stopped a kidnapping.” Cleo drank more water.
“What, really?”
“I-Im joking Impulse” Cleo looked out the window, “Of course I’m joking”
Impulse bit into his sandwich as he walked into the bookshop. Luckily, he got long lunch breaks. He wandered the isles till he found the section he was looking for, True Crime.
Pulling a book from the top shelf, “Most Shocking Local Crimes of the 1980’s” He flipped page after page- there it was!
“Three students missing, 1988. Suspect Zedaph Brown was apprehended…”
That was right, Zed was on death row now.
Impulse gasped as he saw the names and pictures of the kids who had disappeared. Memories returning as he saw their faces.
Elizabeth Shadow, Scar Goodtimes, and
“Pearl Moon…” He said in a whisper.
That’s right, I always saw her alone at the park, we weren’t friends-
Slowly, he passed by the park where she was standing, alone. Snow is falling around her.
I should say something, he thought, nearly calling out to her. But deciding against it, he continued walking.
That was the last time I saw her. He closed the book. She disappeared that night. And I was the last person to see her.
“You don't get it- Mom, I could have saved her!” He pulled on her sleeve, tears streaming down his face, “If-If I had just stopped or-or”
He turned to leave the aisle and purchase the book. Back then, I just wanted to forget all about it…. I guess I did.
His car had a rental plate. Cleo mussed as she walked through the street market. He was definitely going to kidnap that girl…. She picked up a Carrot to inspect it.
I just know I’ve seen those eyes before. Her grip on the carrot tightened as she thought. Then-
Snap!
The carrot broke as she connected the dots.
Pulling out a newspaper she flipped to an article.
Oh my gosh, Zedaph wasn’t the killer after all. They got the wrong guy.
She dialed the number she'd written down on the scrap of paper so many years ago. The phone rang and the call was received.
“It's Cleo. No, I’m not calling about that, for goodness' sake. We need to talk.”
The sun had set now, and Impulse's apartment was dark. As she flipped on the lights, Cleo planned her next move.
If he's been free… Who knows how many people he's killed over the last 18 years? She dropped off her spare key and the slip of paper.
Yeah, there's no way this case is closed. She pulled off her jacket and set it on the kitchen chair, and she placed her phone on the table.
I have to talk to Impulse… It's time we talk about what happened.
The door opened, and Cleo turned her head around.
“Impulse?”
Shing. A knife was plunged through her abdomen.
As the blood spilled, she fell to the cold, hard floor. Looking up, she saw the face of the man with the knife.
I knew it.
She reached for the table, she had to reach her phone, had to call her son.
I’ve got to talk to him, tell him- tell him sorry.
“Zed didn’t kill her mom! I just know he didn’t!! You, he wouldn’t kill anyone!!!!” he’d cried desperately.
Back then, I should have trusted you, believed you. No one else did, I should have, I should have… A gloved hand reached for the phone and gently picked it up.
Cleo's hand fell limp. And as her mind faded, her last memories were of her son.
How smart he was, how bright his mind was. How kind his soul was- and how terrible she felt.
I’m sorry, Impulse. Sorry for everything….
A tear ran down her cheek as her heart stopped beating.
“I’m clocking out!” Impulse shouted, grabbing his bag.
“Great job today!” Martyn complimented him.
“Hey Impulse, tell Cleo I said hi!” Gem called as she began counting money in the register, “And maybe ask if she could make some more spaghetti? It was sooo good!”
“Fine,” Impulse shrugged. Man, you'd think they were old friends already or something.
Impulse yawned; he couldn’t wait to get home after such a long day. As he walked up the steps to his apartment, a man passed him. A man with piercing eyes. He hid his face, and Impulse stopped for a second and looked back only; he was gone.
That’s strange, never seen him before. Must be a new neighbor. He continued up the steps and came to the door of his Apartment. Which was wide open.
Great, she left it open. Rolling his eyes, he entered his apartment.
The first thing he noticed was a slip of paper on the ground. Just leaving her trash around, huh? he picked it up, stuffing it in his pocket, hoping to ask her about it later.
“Cleo! This isn’t our place back home, this is the city you can’t just leave the door-“
Blood, there was so much blood. It was pooling on the floor.
“C-cleo?” He was frozen, “M-mom? Come on mom, th-this isn’t funny ge-get up!”
She didn’t respond, and he reached out to shake her-
“Mom…” Then he saw the knife and screamed, falling back into the entrance hall.
“Impulse, I’m here to talk about the rent-“ The landlady was at the door.
He looked down at his blood-covered hand, then back up at her, and she screamed, running away.
“W-wait!”
The police were already there, and an officer was waiting for him.
“Are you Impulse Siv? We need to question you-“
He couldn’t hear the rest of what the officer was saying.
I-I didn’t do it! Desperate thoughts filled his head. I didn’t, I couldn’t have.
I DIDN’T KILL HER!
He wasn’t even thinking anymore when he began to run.
“Come back here!!”
He was panting, running. He was trapped; it was a dead end.
Into his field of vision fluttered a blue butterfly.
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It was cold, that was the first thing Impulse noticed. Frezzing, opening his eyes he saw that it was also early in the day. Snow was falling.
Did it send me back to winter? Why?
He looked around as he ran. Soon his run turned to a slow walk.
I’ve seen this before but- where?
He passed a streetlamp
When?
He felt a shove behind him, and a kid with a streak of green in his hair ran ahead, shouting. “Come on, Impulse, you’re going to be late!”
Wait I know him! When is this?!
He ran to catch up with the kid, and as he turned the street corner, he stopped in his tracks.
A huge building stood in front of him; one he immediately recognized.
A Banner was hung along the fence, “1988 hockey region champions.”
He was in shock.
“1988?!”