Chapter 3: Resistance
Chapter 3: Resistance
Thak sat in his room, staring at the Memory Note on his desk. The dim glow of the streetlights seeped through the cracks in his curtains, creating eerie patterns on the walls. His failed attempts to use the notebook on Lara replayed in his mind like a broken record. Why hadn't it worked? Marcus had been easy—too easy. But Lara… she was different. Resistant. Immune. It was as if the notebook's power simply slid off her, unable to penetrate the barrier she seemed to unconsciously possess.
He clenched his fists. If the Memory Note couldn't affect her, he'd need to find another way to make her life hell. But first, he needed answers.
Thak's room was small and sparsely decorated. His twin bed sat in one corner, its plain gray sheets rumpled and unmade. The desk, covered in scattered papers, old schoolbooks, and a single flickering lamp, dominated the other side. A cracked mirror hung on the wall above the desk, reflecting his sharp, angular features. His dark brown hair was messy, falling into his equally dark eyes, which now burned with frustration and determination.
Lara's immunity wasn't just an inconvenience—it was a threat. If she realized what he was doing, everything could crumble before it even started.
---
The sound of footsteps in the hallway jolted him from his thoughts. He instinctively grabbed the Memory Note and shoved it into the drawer of his desk. Moments later, the door creaked open, and Lara stepped in.
Lara had always been striking. Her wavy, jet-black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her green eyes seemed to pierce through anyone she looked at. She was tall and carried herself with an air of confidence that Thak had always envied—and hated. Today, she wore a casual black hoodie and jeans, but even her relaxed attire couldn't hide her commanding presence.
"What do you want?" Thak snapped, his voice sharper than he intended.
She raised an eyebrow, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "What's got you so jumpy? Guilty conscience?"
Thak forced himself to relax, leaning back in his chair. "You're projecting, Lara. I'm not the one who spends their days scheming and lying."
Her smirk widened. "Touché. Dinner's ready, by the way. Dad's working late again, so it's just us. Try not to poison the food, okay?"
As she walked away, Thak's grip on the edge of the desk tightened. Her arrogance grated on him, but her words gave him an idea. Dinner. It was the perfect opportunity to test a theory.
---
Thak joined Lara in the dining room a few minutes later. The table was set simply—two plates of spaghetti and a pitcher of water. Lara was already seated, scrolling through her phone, her expression a mix of boredom and disdain.
He sat across from her, keeping his expression neutral as he reached for his fork. The first few minutes passed in silence, broken only by the clinking of silverware.
"So," Lara said, not looking up from her phone, "any reason you've been acting weirder than usual lately? You're not plotting something stupid, are you?"
Thak froze for a split second before forcing a chuckle. "You're one to talk. Maybe you're just paranoid."
She glanced up, her green eyes narrowing. "Paranoid? No. Observant? Absolutely."
Thak gritted his teeth. She was sharp—too sharp. But she wasn't invincible. He just needed to bide his time.
---
Later that night, Thak returned to his room, his mind racing. He pulled the Memory Note from his drawer and flipped through its pages. Each name he'd written so far was there, etched in black ink. Marcus, with his newfound paranoia, was the first step in a long chain of events.
But Lara's name stood out like a glaring void. He'd written it multiple times, each attempt more desperate than the last, but nothing had changed.
He grabbed his pen and scrawled her name again, this time adding specific instructions: "Lara will feel compelled to admit her deepest secret to me tomorrow."
He closed the notebook and stared at it, willing it to work. Tomorrow would be the real test.
---
The next day, Thak kept a close eye on Lara as they went about their morning routine. She seemed her usual self—smug, confident, and infuriatingly untouchable. By lunchtime, he was beginning to doubt the notebook entirely.
It wasn't until they passed each other in the hallway at school that she paused, turning to look at him with an unusual expression.
"Thak," she said, her voice softer than usual.
He stopped, his heart pounding. Was it working?
"I… I don't know what's happening to me, but I feel like something's off. And for some reason, I can't shake the feeling that you're involved."
His stomach dropped. She wasn't admitting a secret—she was suspicious of him.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," he said, forcing a laugh.
She frowned, her piercing green eyes boring into his. "You're hiding something. I don't know what it is yet, but I'll find out."
As she walked away, Thak's mind raced. The notebook had failed again, but it had triggered something in her. This wasn't just a limitation—this was a liability.
He returned home that afternoon and locked himself in his room, staring at the Memory Note with a mixture of frustration and determination.
If the notebook couldn't control Lara, he'd have to outsmart her the old-fashioned way.
But first, he needed to figure out why it wasn't working.
And more importantly, who else it might not work on.
A/N This is not going to be my main book however it can become it if its powerstones and collections surpasses my main book (The Gravity Villain's Silent Return)