the w orld is 
sh u  t   t    e   r  i ng 
and 
sh a ki  ng
and 
s  h   i v   e  r  i  n  g 
out of control. 
there s a storm building. hidden. boiling and itching n crawlingg                     

 beneath the skin

                                                                                      like insecrts. eating you from the inside out. flesh eaters. some humans are flesh eaters too. they eat away. wearing you out. down. crippling. until you feel like youre gon ig to hear an echo when you talk. bouncing off your ribcage into the exxpance of nothing that

only gets

"...Why did he do it?" 

worse

         

"The Author never snapped
the leash like that on me before....
did he think I was just
going to roll over
and play dead?"

                                       rattle

                                 rattle 

                           rattle

                      screeches and 

                                        groans

                             clawing cries of 

                                    timber

                           and nails

                    it's all coming apart, isn't it?

 
"He threatened me.
He threatened my family.
He had to know how I'd react.
It's not like I was a faceless file.
It's not like
he didn't know me.
I was brought into his office several times.
I thought, of all the Highest,
The Author would understand.
Let me do things my way.                                     
The Other Highest
never approved of me.
My attitude.
But The Author was different.
Least I thought he was.
I didn't mean for things to go this far but...
I couldn't
let it happen.
I couldn't let him
HURT them.
You understand,
don't you...?"

                                                                                              pounding. slitting. blistering my skull my m ind theres flashes and twisted of images one on top of the other amonst the RED and white like the stains on Alex's sheets when I

                                                      s

                                                          w

                                                               u

                                                                    n

                                                                         g

                                                                                     and it went thud. then 

nothing. 

just dead eyes and red on white on red on...

                                                    but Jo is here. Jo understands. he has always understood me. always known what i was thinking. what i was feeling. he's always been there for me. he's my friend. my closest friend. i can 

                                               t rust

                                                                                     him

               

"Of course, I do.

But, of course,
I can't help but feel responsible

for this whole mess
                in the first place.

However, what use is there to me

blaming the monster

that's truly at fault?
I suppose that's in the past now.

You forget, Sam,

that this all could have been

a product of...

careful misdirection.

The product of the Devil

whispering in your ear.

                     Or someone else's,

 for that matter.

I have never been a gambling man,

 you know that.

But a bet against the
 Crimson King

having his grubby fingers

where they did not belong

 is a stupid bet indeed.

You know how he is, Sam.

What he can do.

For all we know,

the entire situation

was just misinformation

built upon

 a foundation

of lies."

"I... suppose
it's possible that
The Author was mislead somehow?
I don't know what to think.
Everything just seems so...
complicated lately.
So very complicated..."

                                        "As if it wasn't
complicated enough before."

 such a kind smile 
such a welcome    
contrast                      
to the blistering storm outside                          

"But you've never really been one

to give up, have you?

Not with Alex or Leo

and certainly not now."

"...I kknow that he...
isn't dead.
He can't be dead.
There's no possibl e way.
Valtiel claims he is...
but one can hardly trust
a snake tongue,
riight...?"

"Yes, I'd be inclined

to agree with you.

If not The Tree,

what has our Red Friend

 even been killed by?

No, he's probably taking

his sweet time

dismantling all semblance

of order we used to have.

It's disgusting, isn't it?

How quickly he turns

to chaos as a solution  

to a question  

that nobody is asking...." 
 

he suddenly turns to me    

puzzled 

"But here's

the real problem, Sam.

What if it wasn't Author

 who was misled...?"

 my stomach 
  gives a twist

"I...

...I... suppose it's possible? 

I am merely
humann. 

As capable of being 

deceived as
an yone. 

But how?

In what way? 

Those Proxies had come for me.

They had 

an arrest warrant for me 

issued by The Author. 

They tortured me. 

They were trying to find out 

where they were.

Alex and Leo. 

I couldn't 

tell them that. 

I couldn't...!"

              pound

                      and pound

                                   and pound

                                             and CLAWING at ny s skull

                                                       mmy EYE

                                           ny e ye iis B BURNNING 

"...then tthat...

...sna ke came... 

and made everything 

a million times 

worse.
Just 

Amber 

Eyed 

Snakes... 

the bboth 

of them..."

"It's interesting

that you use 'Snake' to

describe one,

and 'The Devil' to

describe the other.

You've got to wonder

 if maybe you've got it

the wrong way around.

Think, Sam!

Why would your subconscious mind

make that association

between the two of them? "

 speechless
 i'm speechless
I don't know whattt 
it n  ever

it never made sense

i know that

i had always known that
so little of it all

actually made sense
but it split my 

skull  

to even ju

    "What are you missing?

If...

no

when they tortured you,

were they really looking

 for something

so simple?"

hammering

beating

BURNING

my mind

to even...

why had The Author singled me out?

why had he issued a warrent

instead of just...

asking me to come in?

why had it all

spooked him so much?

why had it been put

on such top priority

when t here were so much

bigger

things

to wworry about?
i t nnever mad e sen

"...You can't trust anyone, Sam

You can't trust me.
  You can't trust Redlight.

 And you sure as Hell

can't trust yourself.

What are you doing?

 being satisfied

in a bed of lies?

This isn't like you!" 

     theres a 

                   suddden

                                              FLASH                                  

         a glimpse

      a shadow

       an impression

             of somethi ng

                    that felt

                         true

"The Author...
said...
that he
couldn't
help me...?"

                                           

it diidn't

add

up

"...help me
with
what...?
It doesn't make any
SENSE!"

 the t orture had been 

exxperimen tal

 buy whyy?

why bother go to that

 lengt?h

 why isolatem e

 from the other prsioners?

  why take

  so m many precautions?

why had there been sso

               MANY

  involved?

too mmuch

to many

     m any 

   questions

 "I can't think!

I can't THINK
pastt
this damn headache!"

                 im ppacing again

                                  back

                                            and

                                                      forth

                                            and

                                  forth

                                            and

                                                    back

                                 stirring dust

                        on the

                                 splitting

                                             Cafe

                                                     floor 

"it just wwon't STOP! 

What couldn't The Author
help me with? 

Why is so much focused on me? 

First Red, 

then The Author, 

now Valtiel... 

or Valtiels, rather... 

why?
WHY?!

Things don't get
this complicated. 

Not THIS complicated! 

I'm NOTHING! 

I'm a Servant!

A damn high school teacher

for the love of God..."

"I know it's hard."

 he sound
so much mor e 
distant now

as if he was

 so far away

 

"But you're running out of time, Sam.

 You've made a terrible mistake...

 in assuming
that your memories

could be trusted.

 I wouldn't feel too badly about it.

You're human,

and that's all you can be.

To expect yourself

to have questioned

 your recollections sooner

 is a waste of time.
But that doesn't mean
you can keep pretending
you aren't nnoticing the
cra
cks." 

he swallows

seemingly finding it 
hard to continue

even as i

slowly come to a halt from my

                          p       a        c       i     n    ggg

              myy gaunt lett

                  l   e   aning against a 

                              support

b

e

a

m

my head pulsing with each

  word I hheard

 "Just iggnore
the headache for a s econd.

 Doesn't this all seem too...
convenient?

The minute you'd want

revenge on The Devil,

a new Snake shows up...

 for what?

I'm going
to be frank here,
Sam,

please forgive me,

but you're nothing special.

 You're right:

 you shouldn't have attracted

 any attention whatsoever."

he grimaces, 

 holding his own head,

fingers gripping tight enough

 to turn their tips

pure white.

  "So what

could have
possibly happened

that would suddenly

make you

a person of interest...?"

                          a siic knesss

                ch u rni n g

          inside

                    a Fear 
                           b   e       n       e   athe
                          the  P   A    I     N

               What ccan i
                                 t trust

                        if not my own 
                mindd?

                    m y own
                             memmories?

                                     when did things 
                                          start

                                        to stop 

                       making sense? 

"...Redlight disappeared. 

He disappeared and... 

there was suddenly this

tornado
that replaced him..." 

                                     i feel

                                            so weak

                                 i want to sit down

                          i nee d to si

"DDid... 

Au
thor think... 

I knew wh where he wwas? 

What he was... 

ddoing?"

"EExcell
ent."

he panted 
 just the same as mme        
a mirror
of the pain 
 and
exhuastion              
       i felt gnawing away                       
inside

"What would that
 have to do with

'helping you',

 however?

Author is a straightforward man.

He wouldn't say

anything he didn't-"

he's cut off                      

by another                                  
s                                          
t                                      
a                                  
b                              
of pain                     
shooting                           
splitting                                   
burning                                           

through his skull,                      

a silent whimper         

on the edge of his breath.  

                                                 I sta
                                                        gg
                                                             er
                                         grabbing hold
                            of the b
                                      e
                                      a
                                      m
                                 to support me
                    as i fight against
           the sudden    S
                                P
                                I
                               K
                               E
                   B O L T I N G
              through 
                         my
                              skull
                         out
                    my
              EYE 
      everything
               spinning
                       sway
                             ingg
                                      barely
                                            standing

                                                     stomach

                                                         t

                                                    w

                                                             i

                                            s

                                t

                   i

                                        n 

                            g

 "arre yyoou... aallright? 

My ffriiend...?

WWinston...?" 

 "-mean."

he finally finishes

straining.

 "I'm fine.

Everything's going t
o be
okay

as long as we
keep
going.

 eeven a ssuming

 Author's comment
meant nothing.

why wouldn't Leo
have been used

 to control you before this?

The information

was not that hard to find.

 Children lleave
paper trails,

 no matter what.

Someone who knew what to look for

 could have found the signs."

he's shaking                                    

so                                          

badly                                

just                          

                           like me 

"Unless

 they hit a dead
end, Sam.

Unless there was nothing

more
 to
 look
for."

 I shook my head. 

Slightly 
at first

 then a touch more firm. 

 Or is 'desperate' a better word?

 "No, they... 

they wouldn't
have known. 

They couldn't have known.

I didn't give my name.

Not my real one.

'Freeman' is a lie.

My favorite
actor.
Nothing more.

Leo... 

was protected. 

I kept him safe. 

That was always

top priority. 

Always. 

He stayed safe.
He..."

a sickening feeling

 stirred in my stomach. 

this i wrong. 

 this is 

so

       so 

wrong...

"...he was my little boy.

he was so young...

why...
would they

have even looked?

You said it yourself. 

I'm nothing special. 

I wasn't even

trained.

I'm not..."

"... Sam.

                       

Why did you use past tense?"

 "I...

 I didn't.



I'm sorry, that
             
was... an aaccident

I mmeant...

                                 
                                   
i meanntt...

it...

 it was...

 an accident....

 a....


 ....no...


 no, it's not possible.
 

it's not!
I held him!


I HELD HIM!


I was WITH him!

He remembered me,
Winston
He said he'd missed me!
He wanted to come home!
He...!

He...


my bboy...


mmy..."

it huurts

  it all hu

                         rts so mu cch

"....Wiins
 tton.....?


whattss
 hhappennig
 t to
m ee...?

"Leo's dead."

 

voice like a quiet breeze  

 in the stagnant air

of the cafe.

No, it's a bar, isn't it...?

 
"Two years ago,
he ran out into the road

and was mowed down

 by someone minding

 their own business.

Nobody was at fault.

His foster parents

 were inconsolable.

Fate dealt him a cruel hand.

Declared dead at the scene.

 Just another dead deer

at the side of the road.

A statistic.

 A tragedy.

That's what's going on, Sam.

You're living a LIE!"

"...nno.

  


N-NO!

                         
youre wwrog!

Leo...

Leeo w-was pplay ing


  i ssaw him

 i i saw mmy
booy
      
i...

he....


           
 he rran
 t o me"

 sha kki n g 

                 

 i

           evve rythiing 

      jjust...

i could f eel the bblood

from my nails

                                                       

grripping my

s

k

u

l

l

                                                                          

 i

w

a

      n

                 t

 

       t

                                                           o                                                

  R

 I

P

                 i

                t

                                   f   r   o       m

                                                                                       

m

y

  

                                   

F    -    L    -    E    -    S    -    H

its wrong

its lies

its not REAL

GETITOUTOFME

                                 
"GGodd
                          
nno

 I
hhad
 hiim.



 I...        
             


  ...sstop it...

                                                                                                                           ...stop it.

S          T          O          P                     I          T     !!!"

"...Let me tell you a story, Sam.

A Proxy goes
 to their only friend

on a dark and stormy night.

The Proxy's friend says that its important.

That the Proxy has been acting...

strange.

 Tell me..."

his voice sounds
so
strange               

but 

familiar...?

"What did your friend show you that night?

What could have possibly
been so important?"

a shudder passed

t h r o u g h  me

 r at tlin g  me

ra tt ling  like  the  roof

the walls

the floor

the world

 pulling 

from its base

     coming 
                      l

                            o 

                                o 

                                    s 

                                       e

falling apart, don't you mean?

"....hiis...

dde  ath

 c-certificate...



 his....



oh God




God


                       
 pplease noo





 mm y
boy
                                                  



  he wwas j ust aa
 BOY...!!




myy
 bboy



 mmy



 bbaby boy..."




 

"You had been acting like he was alive."

that voice keeps twisting. so unlike him.

 pacing around me.

circling me

constricting around

 unforgiving eyes

never leaving me

ever

"So your friend confronted you. Showed you the evidence.
Said you were delusional.     

Explained that The Author had never sent you into any suicide mission

as punishment, but rather because you were the only one that could even come close to handling the job. That your allegiance towards the Red Devil had... changed you. That he was twisting everything around on you and turning his 'Jester' into a real life Fool. And when your friend finally finished 

talking... when he placed a hand on your shoulder                                                                            

and quietly stated that he would help you through this,

help you get your life back...."

 

i felt the floorboards hit my knees

 the palms of my hands

     everything coming up at me in a rush of movement that 

                                                                               flooded over my mind. plunging me into ice and 

heat and tearing storms of blood and screams and restraints on my wrists and ankles and chest as i begged the Author to kill me. i didn't want to go back i didn't want to get swallowed by the RED. it choked me until i couldn't breath couldn't think couldn't SEE what was right before my eyes until there were circles of bruises with eyes that never closed. only stared. only stared up at me as my fingers closed tighter around that throat. that throat that pulse that LIFE that is...

was...

 my best friend... 

         

                                                                                                                and i did'nt stop

                                               

                      

until it did

"...I killed him."

           

 all lies

all been nothing 

but

lies

           

everything

 is

             

RED

s p ll in t e  r i ng    in tto

  s moth  ering  

overr

infect

          i

           n

           g

inF   ESTii ng

evretihng

                                                                                       EVVERYTHING

 jusst REDD

                                   RED
 

                      RED


        RED


RED


RED


RED


RED


RED


RED


RED


RED


RED


RED


RED


RED


RED


RED


RED



RED




RED





RED






RED







RED









no










RED












NO
















            NO GETOUTT






















                                  GGET OUT

GETOUTOFMYHEAD!!!!

"...Have you been

keeping track

of these blackout of yours, Sam?

Where you last remember being?

Where you wake up?

      When? In what way?"

"No, I...
I haven't been doing anything.
It's hard to keep
track of it, Winston.
Sometimes it's... only a few hours...
But I usually... wake up soaked in blood...
or smelling of gasoline and smoke...
sometimes... He's there...
...sometimes not..."

"All the more reason to keep track."

"You're right...
though, it seems, lately
I can't keep track of anything
hard as I try to.
I'm so tired...
it all just...
slips through my fingers.
You need to be careful, Winston.
If I ever come here
and don't seem... myself..."

                "I have nothing to fear.

Not from you, Sam."

"Dammit, Winston,

I'm not in control all the time!

When I black out, I don't...

I could hurt you.

I could kill you.

I came so close to before, I..."

"...Then who's in control, Sam?

If not you,

then who?"

"...I don't know.

...Promise me, Winston.

Promise me you'll kill me if I try.

I don't...

want to hurt you.

You're my best friend.

There's no one who knows me better.

Who knows me more than I know myself.

I forgave you for your part in this mess.

I know you only had 

my best interest in mind.

That's why I walked out that night.

That's why...

I made them all believe

you were dead.

It was the only way.

The only way...

This Life would leave you be.

The only way you'd be able to walk away.

They'd drag you back in

if they knew it was a lie.

They expect not but brutality from me.

A monster's brutality.

No mercy.

Not even towards...

my closest Kin.

But it's in that... 

that I can protect you.

I can live with all of them thinking

that I killed you.

If you gain even the slimmest chance...

to have a second life from it..."

       "I know, Sam.
I know better than anyone.

But that doesn't

 answer the question."

"I don't know, Winston
I...
I don't know.
It's not like I...
haven't tried.
It's not like I...
haven't dug through the migraines.
clawed through the nightmares.
The Flashes of White and Black
And Red
just rred stains on white
a ring of purple and black
a nec
klace
of brruisess..."

"...Sam, are you alright?"

"...My eye. It...

it... it's bburning. it...

it's nothing.

i'm sure.

it's just sstinging.
that...
thaat's all..."

"...Sam, you have a

blood spot in that eye.

    Quite a bad one too

    Did you know that?

Sam...

where did you get that?"

"...blood spot...? my...?

...yess...

...yes...

i know that 

i waas hit, 

sometime ago...

why do you ask...?"

"Who... hit you, Sam?

I know it stings.

Trust me, I know.

BBut I want you... to tell me who hit you.

You remember that,

 don't you?"

"...Heinrich...

Heinrich Schultz...

beccame The Butler years ago.

He punched mme before I 

was even aware enough to staand..."

                  "...No, Sam..."

"back in tthat mansion...

everything was splattered...

splattered...

splattered... red...

the blood was everywhere

on everything

Heinrich was so distraught

so horrified

so... smothered in grief

he punched me across the jaw

weak and unbalanced

ripping me from his own grip

and i fell to the floor...

still feeling so

numbed

from Him..."

 "Sam,

  pplease.

This isn't the time.

You need to ffocus now.

                 Who was it who hit you?"

"...i remember... there was an arm...

laying on the floorboards...

a lifeless arm in a puddle

of cold clotting blood. 

the rest of the body hidden

around the corner of the doorway.

defensive bruising decorating across

pale, smooth skin 

so much better than

the delicate gold bracelet around her slim wrist.

finely cut diamonds and rubies

birthing the image of a flower. 

its image reflecting into the crimson. 

just like her ruby ring 

paled in comparison

to the ring of blood that was crafted down her fingers

from where two nails had been torn off

so delicate...
so brutal...

so... beautiful..."

"Sam, llisten to me.

It waasn't The Butler.

You know that.

We bboth know you've earned

a number of fists

from a number of people

over the years.

But they didn't make that mmark, Sam.

They didn't hit you liike a ton of bricks.

Their fists didn't hit you harrd enough

to burst a bblood vessel in your eye  

in a fit of ccomplete ragge  

 So wwho was it?  

Think!"  

"i ddont'...

i... don't want to.

Winston?

are you okkay...?"

                        "I... I'll be fine.

Just think. THINK.

SSam, come on!

Who was it?"

"I... 

I ddon't know.

god it burns...

Winston, pplease...

my...

my heead..."

                              "Yes, you ddo!

 I know it's burnning.

I know your sskull is splittiing

 in two right noww

but you can't quit

.  

Focus, Sam!"

 

"...no...

 ...noo i... 
...'moorre...

...huummann...

...thaaan...

                                                                         

... yyouu...

      

...tthoouughtt'..."

 "YES!

J-Just a... bit more, Sam.

Keep p-pushing forward.

Who did you say that to?

Keep focused, Sam,

we're r-running out of

UklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VTUklOR09GQlJVSVNFU1JJTkdPRkJSVUlTRVNSSU5HT0ZCUlVJU0VT
MD2:
MD4: 05393976b70e87e016ccff760ba5bdc9
MD5: ce3de3f15d5b48a95962ab4dd2555655
CRC 8, ccitt, 16, 32 :

CRYPT (form: $ MD5? $ SALT $ CRYPT):
$1$vu0V3Or9$uxGCx.N9k8Mg3AlUYu43U/
      (form: SALT[2] CRYPT[11]):
psmwjM8exVxQk

SHA1: 2c552b68051b840777c167311ba547263e451df9
RIPEMD-160:
  8e3d508b1eebeb957d068daba64dbf8798fb17e1
 

Things Are Supposed To Be Simple For A Proxy.

You Serve Him.

You Follow Orders.

You Eat. Sleep. Kill. Survive... and then Die.


Fellow Proxies are just meant to be... the same brand of cog that you are. Turning over the same gears. The same routine. The same pattern. Day after day after day. Just faces in the crowd. Fit to be replaced by the next face when they fail to Survive that day.



but humans can never keep things simple... can they?



it's early December
night is dark early
wind howling
good night to be inside
had already spent a few days in one spot
one cubby hole of a hotel room
a disaster zone of papers and notes
trying to make sense of the senseless
logic of the illogical
a pointless endeavor from the start
it's not just about Valtiel anymore
least
maybe not 

then there's just

a small sound

dismissible at first

if it was not so rare to hear

a simple tap, tap, tap 

on the old, 

beaten 

door

just that

then nothing more

When the scene closes for the Runners

Kali stirred just as i did

we didn't get guests

especially when no one was supposed to know

where in the world we were

"...Who is it?"                                      

there's a pause

as though expecting his answer

to not be welcomed quite as warm as another

"...David."

and the curtain closes for a pause

just open the door                                                    
only a crack                                                               

semi-automatic in hand                                            

enough to let the wind in                                           

but nothing more                                                       

he stands waiting

patient yet pained

blood drenched down his leg

ugly and bleeding

already had a bullet in him

and the night had barely begun

that would be when the Monsters we Are 

he was a pain that i didn't need

just another detail

amongst a nest

that was already too complex

"...Little late in the evening 

to be selling Girl Scout Cookies 

Isn't it, Banks?"                                                                     

he smiled

but it ended as a grimace

leaning on the door frame

looking fit to collapse

but still ever patient

or perhaps 'numb'

would be a better word

"...Can I come in?"

give the reins back to the Humans we Are



i waited only a moment longer
eyes darting out at the night
then back to him
before i stepped back
pulling the door wide

letting him in

then closing it

locking it

single then double

The Eyes were closing in again

crawling up my spine

but that was not a detail for right Then

what was for Then

was cleaning off a chair

unspoken permission

 he nearly collapsed into the seat

it was a wonder he hadn't passed out yet

so much is always that way

Unspoken.

It's an ugly combination. The Monster and The Human. It doesn't mix for the exact same reasons that they do mix. It lets us Survive. It gets us Killed. It Tortures us. It Heals us. It makes us Fear that we're Losing Our Minds... and then turns right around and confirms what is Real and what is Not. Manifesting into one crushing Wave that Awakens as much as it Drowns. 

The Storm and The Lifeboat. 

The Blade and The Bandage.



i try to joke
like how others expect me to
but things come out
so much heavier these days
"Was there a party in the area I wasn't invited to?
Where's Ronan?
Last I checked
you two were attached at the hip." 

 "...he's dead."
flat and empty

just another face in the crowd

gone

To forget The Human and become only The Monster is to Die for sure.

For The Human remembers why Life is worth Suffering through.



"...my apologies."
i gathered supplies
alcohol and towels
a knife laid over the stove element 
all just routine
but a very important one
a second face would not be claimed
not that night
"...A mission?"

he shook his head

watching me

as i gathered my things

gaze unfocused

"Minori."

To forget The Monster and become only The Human is to Die for sure.

For The Monster can do what is necessary to secure Life.

At all costs.

"I tried to stop her of course,

but I hate to admit..."

he sunk in his seat

just a little

one hand on that leg

gripping it

 "She was always 

better than me."

i sat in front

paid him nevermind

the pain inside would not kill him

twist

and burn

and boil

and cut

but not kill

his leg however

was already pooling blood beneath the chair

"Still chasing 

the Happily Ever After, were you?"

And yet...

in the end


no matter The Human

no matter The Monster

no matter what Balance 


We All Die.

i tore his pants open wider
"I warned you, David. 

If life were fair, I'd be patching up him instead of you. 

But we both know it's far from fair

now, is it?"
blood on my hand

blood on my blades

looking for the bullet

following the trail

past the pressure on my temples

past the throb

a dull ache 

growing sharper

"Mm."

almost agreement

almost acceptance of fate

even as his hands gripping the chair

near knuckled white

but not another trace of pain showed

past the mask built by blood

"It isn't fair... but I don't see that as a reason

to stop creating.

I had him. For a moment in time

he was mine.

And nothing changes that."

And while death is inevitable...

many a time along the path of life...

pieces of us die long before the Whole catches up.



my blades pinched metal
pulling the invader from the flesh
and tossed it aside to rattle its empty notes
across the tiled floor
sprinkles of crimson trailing after  
"...In that case,
whatever you gave him over a handful of months
I do hope it was worth his life, in the end."
a pouring of alcohol filled the wound

bubbling and foaming

before dripping to the floor
"For him."
 i pressed a towel to the wound

then placed his hand over it

clear instructions

"As well as you."



I remember... being on a Mission what feels like ages ago now. At the time, I was still staying at the Cafe with Joseph, Morningstar, David, and Ronan. Still recovering from my play time with the Plague Doctor. But there's no rest for the wicked, is there? Redlight ordered us to launch an assault against a Moriarty base. There was... a reason behind it. I don't quite... remember what. 

It seemed so important at the time, I recall...



just gone then back again
this time with a knife in hand
scorching hot
even just to hold
"Do you need something to bite down on?"
i gestured to the wall
reminding
"We do have neighbors here."

he shook his head

"I can be quiet. 

Been through worse."

Moriarty was such a looming threat at the time.

Then again, so was our boss.

So when Redlight ordered us to move. 

We did.



i didn't let the moment carry
as anticipation only worsens the pain
pressing the blade down against 
the bleeding wound
a sizzling hiss rising into the air
much like the stink
of burning flesh  

he closed his eyes tight

knuckles bare white on the chair

voicing only a few low grunts

against that pain

complete trust towards

trust only learning

I remember the sharp, repeated cracks of exchanged gunfire.

I remember shouting.

And I remember... a monsterous noise.

A trumendous shift.

And the floorboards bucking beneath our feet. 



when the wound was closed
and the blood finally stopped
i tossed the blade
clattering into the sink across the room
torturing my skull
instant regret
as i flinched
head pounding
vision flashing to 
white
and red

"...Before I forget,"

through the fog

i reached for my other supplies

waiting beside my chair

and numbly took a jar

unlabelled but full

of think yellow ooze

"I wanted

to give you something."

slathering it over the fresh burn

The sudden scream of breaking wood tore all around us until there seemed to be no noise at all. A total void of air and space where sound itself was lost. And then I was falling. The light of the world pulling away as if I was lost in a dream...

I don't remember impact.

he held out his hand

the gesture trembling ever so slight
exhaustion
blood loss

though he tried to hold 
a strong front
it was clear to the keen
that his condition was getting the better of him

 his palm showcasing its own gash

to match his leg

bleeding down heavy

for something so minor

"...Something else to patch up?"

the bandages came next

first a pad

then the wrap

"You shouldn't have.

It isn't even my birthday." 

I just fell.

And then I was waking up inside a cocoon of rubble. Coughing. Choking on the dust. My mind a fog and throbbing against my skull. A moistness under my hood making sure I was well aware of how close death had come again. My body sore and bruised. Scrapped and gashed. 

But in one functional piece.

"The blood, Sam."

 those eyes caught mine

burdened deep

holding for the barest of seconds

"I thought you might...

be able to use it."

my mind

splintered and thobbing

caught his meaning 

gears grinding

before turning over

i didn't ask any more

simply rushed to get an empty jar

anything to give

to hold

and gather

that which has been claimed
to nullify powers
of the supernatural sort

I tried to reach for The Path. 

Tried to find its strings to pull myself out... but the shift in energy brought a strain that the rubble couldn't take. As a warning, I heard a groan. Then a snap. Dust raining down. And then pebbles. Rocks. Beams. Everything closing in...

I barely rolled out of the way in time.

Dust kicking up once again.

powers like Valtiel's

"...Thank you, David."

 a slow nod

"You're welcome, Sam."

i wrapped his leg
taking care with it

as he bled his hand

into the jar i'd given him

his eyes turning heavy
as the minutes passed between us

threatening to close

I was trapped  ("...Well, that might have hurt a little."), but not as alone as I'd thought at first. A deep chuckle greeted me even before the dust settled. The sound snapping my head around to see none other than David Banks  ("Yeah, probably. You always were quick on your feet though.")on the other side of that dust cloud.

i finished my work
quick as i could manage
taking the jar away from him

before it could slip from his

loosening grip

he barely seemed to notice

barely responded

to anything i did

not even

when i placed two fingers

against his neck

feeling for a pulse

and finding it weak

He seemed no more worse for the wear than I was ("...And what about you? In one piece or three? Please say three. I could use some good news about now.")  at first. Leaning back against some rubble with a cigarette trailing smoke between his lips. Passing a smirk to me, of which I  didn't return. His leg  ("One. Although a stationary piece.") trapped beneath some fallen rubble. ("Hurts like crazy. Not that I'd be going far anyway. Looks like we're stuck here. You must be thrilled.")

Out of us all... it would have to be Banks I'd get trapped ("...Ecstatic, Banks. Absolutely ecstatic.")   with, wouldn't it? 

i left him once more
and dug into some things i hadn't
wanted to use
pulling out a vile of clear liquid
and a needle
draining the former into the latter
then returning again
sitting down
turning his arm

and finding a vein

slipping the point of steel in

practiced and precise

it was in him before he even stirred enough

to flinch from the pinch

My eye went from his leg, to his eyes, and then back again. Before I pulled my spare gun from my leg. Small little thing. Two shots. But a nice surprise in an emergency. I checked it once.

And then I aimed it between his eyes.

 

before yanking his arm back completely

a glare focused in his eyes

when he rose them back to me

"What did you just give me...?"

i glared straight back at him
grabbing his other arm
and throwing a quick bandage
around the bleeding wound 

"A date rape drug, Banks.

Couldn't resist.

So sorry.

Hope you don't mind."

The moment hung.

And then I turned the gun. Emptying the two bullets for him to see. Then reloading them before pocketing the piece. He didn't say a word. Neither did I. But I knew the message got across loud and clear.("I'll lift.") I was not above killing him  ("...Alright.") if he gave me a reason to.



i left him in favor of the kitchen sink
washing the blood from my hands
my headache so much worse
splitting my skull
my gut twisting
threatening to heave
"It's a...
little mixture Dimme used to put together.
Way back when.
I still use it.
It'll give your system the boost
it needs right now."

his eyes were pulling down again

"...If I had the effort,

I would be

really angry at you right now."

 


I had to try to get him free. Not that I wanted to. But I hadn't a choice. If I left his leg as it was  ("Just know, Banks, if this triggers the rest of the cave in... that I can't think of another person I'd rather drag to Hell with me than you.")  and the rubble shifted, then he could lose it. Admittedly, it would be funny at first. But not so much when answering to Redlight later. 

Not to mention Jo or Venny.

"I don't do drugs."

"...So, you're a murderer and a rapist,
and you have a special love for flaying,
but taking any form of drug is crossing a sacred line, is it?
You're a shining example for the rest of us, Banks.
Truly, you are."
i leaned on the sink for a time
after i'd cleaned up
starting to feel a little like
i could breathe again



I counted to three and gave a heave... and his leg came out without anything else even taking notice  ("Sorry, mate. It's not going to be that easy.").  There wasn't even a sprinkle of dust to warn ("...Then you can expect my bill in the mail.")  of tinkering with our little cocoon.



"You can be angry at me in the morning.
For now, I have a major headache 
and you're not making it any better."
after a moment or two more
i felt a bit better than i had
deciding to get done
what needed to be
before i was swept away again
finding blankets
and a spare pillow

setting up the couch

he watched me gather things

watched me

clean away my mess only

to make some room for where he'd be spending the night
yet another thing

unspoken

"...Thank you."

There ("... Do you realize this is the second time a building has come down on us? I take it as a Sign.") was nothing to do ("A sign for what? To hire a contractor?") but wait.



"Don't thank me."
i came over for the last time
placing a light touch under his arm
"Come on.
On your feet."

silently
he took a hold on my arm in turn

and a flash hit me

of pure White

White

stained 

RED

blood

RED

folding in

black

shattering

into

fog

rain

wind

ripping

tearing

a rush of movement 
and behind it
i saw a necklace
of purple bruises around a pale neck

and then it was gone

and in that instant
i felt more likely to fall down

than pull David up

We spoke about everything. Whether we both wanted to ("A Sign for Us to Stay. Away. From each other. Lest death come that much quicker for one or both.")  or not ("...Or perhaps it means you're stuck with me."). I helped him stay focused ("...You're claustrophobic?")  while he helped... rather, TRIED to help me ("Do Not. Touch Me. Banks. Never. Touch Me. Is that clear enough for you?") with a head wound I'd gained during the fall ("...Run from me all you can, but I'll still be there. And I realize I haven't gone about it well, but I like you. Say what you have to. Do what you have to. We need to bury this.") but I wouldn't let him. 

Though I don't think any would blame me.

 

but i found my grip before
the floor could come rushing up
swallowing hard
as i struggled
to bring the room back into focus
feeling that sickening weight
that taste
on the back of my throat
my skull splitting
as the world swayed
and i felt
like a ghost under my skin
trying to be
as gentle as i could as i

supported his weight

allowing him to

lean on me

as we managed our way

over to the couch

one step

just one

step 

at

a

time

  


Though we did find ("I know how the Game works, Banks. I know I started this. The kidnapping. The Cult Town. It was just business. But it /was/ me who made the first move. After the Cafe... call my attitude what you will, but you brought her back. Dimme. It was the same thing all over again. Same, but different, but still the same. Honestly, I'd like to see how well you'd be able to shake off being thrown back under Dubois for even a brief moment.")  an understanding, of sorts. ("I'm sorry. All I wanted was to even the score. You scared me to death when you took Ronan.") 
 

allies

i helped him 

lie down

pulled the covers 

over him

and then immediately sunk

into a chair nearby

holding my face in my hands

feeling as if

each pulse

would crack my skull

and leave the pieces on my open palms

he twisted where i'd laid him

looking at me

alarm in his eyes for the

first time

"Are you alright?"

 we were supposed to be 

Just a patch job to mend the holes ("We're even. But that does not make us friends.") in the bridge between us ("...I want to know you better, Sam. I want the chance to like and be liked back. Trust would be even better, but I'm smart enough to know the last two won't happen. The first will work.") for there were already too many enemies on the field ("...I can offer a truce. Tentative allies. Nothing more.")  and not nearly enough allies ("I'll take what I can get.").

allies

a flutter of wings

had Kali's talons settling onto my shoulder

a soft call in my ear

as i nodded

one hand lifting to stroke

those ebony feathers

"I'm fine. 

Just... think I'm coming down with something. 

Haven't exactly been 

looking after myself lately, you could say. 

Had other things that needed to be 

focused on..."

he sunk back

settling in

finding what scarce comfort

simple fabric can bring

"Look at the two of us.

We used to be something."

"...Perhaps only Fools."

you were right here David

By the time Morningstar and Joseph dug ("...How old were you?") us out... we'd found ("...When it began? Or when it ended?") our common ground again ("...Both."). The same common ground  ("Ten. And eighteen.")  we'd had at the Cult Town. 

you were right here that night

i slowly forced myself up

Kali stirring

but staying with me

"Get some rest.

You'll be leaving in the morning."

he managed a chuckle

that made me pause

"Oh, you have no idea how true that sentence is."

right here

 

Altered, ("I have no pity for you, Banks. You were only a Victim for as long as you stood head and shoulders above Dubois. The instant you used his own tools against him - torture and rape - and then used those tools on others still... then you became his Kin. Not his Victim. The same rule applies to myself and Dimme. With her torture of me. And mine of her. As well as others. I'm not a Victim. We're just two Villains. Born from Villains. To give birth to the next generation of Villains.") but the same, nevertheless.

 

why

"...You're going to Run, aren't you?"

"...Haven't we always been?

In one way or another?"

why didn't you help me?

Perhaps, ("...You're the first person to understand that. Not even Ronan understood that...") when it all comes down to it... 

we're all just skinning ourselves.