I worry about my friend Chrixten. I mean, of course I worry for all my friends because I care about them a lot, but Chrixten has been through the worst of it. She does her best to hide it, but when she loses her eyepatch it feels like she's seeing things we can't see. Sometimes she'll be walking through the halls and she'd just stop and stare at something. Sometimes she'd look in fear; sometimes in confusion; sometimes there'd be no emotions at all. I just want her to be happy. I just want everyone to be happy.

"Shoony, dear, what's that you're holding?" Auntie Theodora asks, resting her soft hands on top my head. I close the journal shut and turn to find all three of them staring down at me. Kaide, if only for an instant, looks like she cares. "I'm just writing." I answer. I lied.

Chrixten has been teaching me to read. I don't attend school because I want to remember what Chrixten does. All three of us want to remember what Chrixten remembers. We're busy at work anyways. I had bought a notebook and had Kaide connected to Chrixten's, without Kaide knowing it was her's. Everything in the book gifts me with the knowledge of connection. I can hear her very thoughts and feelings, and I feel one with her. Some of it makes no sense. Everything is out of order, confusing. Kaide grumbles walks away. Ten was already gone, and Auntie Theodora follows. Now that I'm alone, I try to read the pages.

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    {..--}

The field is consumed by the fire; I being in the center of it all. The dying flames circle around the six of us, all unharmed. The air is dry; my eyes are waffling between the dryness and wet tears. I don't look away from him. How could he do this? To all those people? His own.

I look down to the limp body beside him. With blood and brains visibly pouring out from its head, the body loses grip of is gun. I turn away from all this to only find greater devastation.

The grass has burned out; the field is barren. I can hear the moaning and screaming of those who hadn't instantaneously turned to ashes. They're trying to get the fire off them, but they're surrounded by flame. The once gorgeous trees fuel the fires from all sides. They turn dark, twisted and, then, into nothing. I remember watching others jump from tree to tree when I was younger. They would hang upside down looking at the beautiful fields. Bodies hang just the same, choosing to end the suffering. I'm frozen, I hear them calling my name. I can't save them. I failed them. I killed them.
 

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She opens her heavy eyelids to find a blank white ceiling above. She lifts her head up just high enough off the bed to see the cloudy black figure sitting on the edge of her bed. A live shadow, breathing, speaking, and watching her. Which persona have you chosen today? He stands up from the bed and throws some clothes onto her stomach. Her head throws back onto the rough "cushioned" surface of her bed. Once again, she stares up to the empty above. Why am I still here? She slides her body around, and her feet fall to the cold wooden surface of the ground. She stares at them and begins to rub her eyes. Why couldn't they just leave me? Why did he leave me? She picks up the clothing he threw to her: A white sleeveless turtleneck dress with black buttons going down from the very top side of her neck to the end hem of the skirt, a hooded short-sleeved sweater that swoops low across her chest with larger sized buttons at the side on the bottom, long white gloves to cover up her arms, high black socks to cover her legs, and black silver-toed dress shoes. Waiting for him to leave, she stands and walks to the podium with a bowl on top. He disappears just as he came; the darkness, engulfing his body, becomes one with him, and he is nothing but a 2d shadow.

She sits down in the chair. Staring into the mirror, she momentarily winces. Grabbing the bucket of water beside her feet, she splashes the face that is supposedly hers. After doing all this, she looks back up into the reflection and takes in the noticeable details of her face: light brown colored skin, accompanied by freckles, and pastel dull green eyes, or so that's what she's been told. She grabs the black patch laying on the desk and starts to rest it on her right eye, but she hesitates and simply holds on. She look back down at it; embroidered on the dark fabric is a cross with two snakes (barely visible) wrapping around it. With her other hand, she combs her short hair down, but some hairs are never tamed.

Then, she begins to clean her body. Her eyes glance over to her left side; she can't help but observe her shoulder. If someone were to look they would notice some blotches of discoloration of her skin, stretching out from her left shoulder, across her back, around to the bottom right side of her stomach. As she runs the water against her back, she feels the brand on her back where her heart should be. She closes her eyes and let out a deep breath. Why didn't he let things go?

She stands from her chair; the intensifying internal burning of her legs force her to sit back down. Something she wishes her body would grow accustomed to. She couldn't stand for him to leave her behind. She will never get used to this; she still needs to maintain focus. Throwing on her clothes, she stares at her right hand just before she puts the last glove on. At each passing second, her hand becomes smoke, blowing away like ashes in the wind. Then a cloud circles around where her hand once was, and it comes together to form her hand once more. A deserving punishment. Yet there is need for worse. He whispers. She takes a deep breath, forces herself up, and she steps out.

After her first kill, her father told her death was the easily part of life. Living only brings strife and turmoil to not only yourself but also to those around you. Only now has she come to realize. She was never alive. I believed. I believe my only purpose for being alive was to live for you. Why am I still here?

As she departs, a strong hand ruffles the hair she had just brushed down. Her eyes, however cruel they appeared in the moment, look over to see to whom that hand belongs. Jayshawn, her twin brother, towers above her. He smiles such charm at her behind those dark shades. Resting his arm around her neck, he speaks, Imagine, a highly trained sociopath and her charismatic twin brother. We could either start a war or save the world. But why not both? She had sighed and brushed his arm off her shoulder. He didn't know the meaning behind those words.

Lifting the eyepatch up and over onto her eye, she stares out to the world singularly.

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I walk through the entrance of the checkup facility and confetti bursts in my face. "Hello! Hello!" A man's voice calls from the secretary desk. Excitedly, he runs up to me and falls to the ground on his knees, sweeping up the paper slices with his hands. He's smiling and looks up to me, saying, "one moment please! Please sit in the waiting area while I clean these wonderful after-celebration decorations!" I step over the tons of paper and walk over to the metal door, knocking three times. "One moment please!" The man cleaning the mess happily calls back at me. I look back at him and wait a moment, only to knock again. The man laughs. "Well, aren't you a joker today! Please, do wait." He says and continues cleaning. He's only picked up four confetti pieces. Walking over to the secretary desk, I look over at the phone and press my finger on the small red button at the bottom left corner. At a low frequency, the phone gives off a beep. Clara's voice comes through the other side, "hello?" "Clara it's me, Seán. Come let me back there; I got a form." I tell her and lift my finger off the button. "Haha. What are you doing?" The man, who picked up all the confetti, towers above me, putting a firm and strong hand on my shoulders.

The metal door creaks open. "Happy Days of Pandora!" I sarcastically say back to the man as I wriggle out his grasp, making my way through the door Clara held open. The door slams closed behind us, leaving us in mostly darkness and some blue light. "What happened back there?" She asks me, taking the form (somehow able to read it) and leading the way. "Nothing. Nothing really." I say as my head swirls and looks around the unending empty lighted aquarium walls. I tap the glass. 
"They've all been moved since last night's ceremony. I always wonder where they go." She explains. We seemed to be walking for a long time, surrounded by unchanging blue atmosphere, but, then Clara stops in front of a smaller metal door at the end of the long hall. "Go in there, and you'll get your prescribed Anamnesis shortly." She doesn't move to open the door. Matter of fact, she doesn't move at all, not even to blink. The door doesn't have a handle; I wouldn't have even known it was a door if it weren't for it not being another wall to the aquarium.

    I lift my hand and press it against the warm metal. Purple lines of light appear, tracing the door in an invisible maze till they reach my hand. A voice, deep and raspy, speaks, "Seán Flame. Enter." The voice had to have come from the other side of the door, but it could be heard from everywhere around. Yet, I don't think Clara even heard. When I look over to see a reaction, she's gone. The door opens from all sides, virtually disappearing into thin air. The instant my entire body is on the other side, the door reappears in a loud slam.

The room behind the door was pitch black till the door closed behind me. Then the same lines of purple light that appeared on the door traced the metal floors and walls of the room. On the walls, they pass by poles, lighting them up with blue flame. Once the room is completely illuminated, all that's there is a metal stand, shaped like a minimalistic bed. "Please. Rest." I look around, but no one else is in the room. No one is hiding in the shadows. Doing as I'm told, I lay back.

    There's a certain feeling that you get when you're surrounded by something unfamiliar. A sudden rush of panic, which can turn to anger, and angry I was. Angry I am. Lying there, staring at the dark and high reaching ceiling, surrounded by poles of fire in a completely sealed metal room, I felt like an offering, or that I was sacrificing something. A sharp pain- multiple. thick and sharp- like knives. My neck, the sides of my forehead and stomach, the center of my back. A rush of pain and a rush of anger and a rush of burning hot metal stabs straight through my throat, my abdomen, my feet, my palms.

My eyes... open, wet.

I'm sitting in a velvet chair staring straight at a wrinkled old man and young woman who stare back. The old man tugs on his grayed beard, observing and pondering intently. Clad in black loose garments with two red streaks going down the sides, his body limply sits in a chair, leaning semi-forward with elbows resting on knees. One of the first of humanity. An Original. Dangling from a thick silver metal chain, a black metal ore with blinking purple luminescence rests. There's no such metal like it outside that necklace and the metal room I had entered. His skin has turned a yellowish color and his eyes looked almost completely black. Wrinkles were on every piece of leathered skin that showed, his hands, his entire face, even his bare feet. He was big, round faced and bellied, and his fingers were fatter than the two of mine combined.

The woman stands tall beside, but slightly behind the chair of the old man's. She's also draped in a black cloak, and the hood is hanging over her head. Though she wears the hood, her maroon colored bangs hide more of her face than the shadow of the hood. Her hands are tightly clasped together and a purple light glows from between the cracks. She was dark-skinned, long haired, taller than me, and she even looked muscular through the cloak, probably more than me. Eyes dark, almost red in appearance, stare through her bangs deep into mine. Her hands looked smooth, but her fingernails were cracked and unpolished. When she notices me staring, the light between her fingers disappears.

The man clears his voice. "Your name, lad?" he asks, resting back from his position before. You'd think they'd hear it from the door's loud announcement earlier. "Seán. Seán Flame." I reply. The man puts a hand in his pocket and pulls out an unrecognizable coin, flipping it with basic tricks. Not that I could do any better, but anyone can flip a coin into the air and catch it. "Why are you here, son?" he asks, focusing more on the coin than on me. "The Woman in Silk wants me to help with an investigation. I might have to become the commissioner, which can't be done without"-the man flicks the coin at me, hitting me center in the forehead.

"hey!" I yell and rub my forehead. The coin was flicked with such an unexpected force. "No. Why are you here?" he asks again. I stare down at the floor. "I'm going to get some memories back and find the..." as I speak, I reach down for the coin. Only to be hit on hand by another coin, flicked at the speed of a bullet. "Why are you here?" he asks again. I pick up the two coins and look up to see if he's got any more coins in his hand. When I see that he doesn't, I stare down at the two coins. Some words are written down, but they are unintelligible. They don't use the human alphabet. "Why are you here?" he asks again. The two coins roll between my fingers and I watch the purple light slightly glisten off their dirty metal covers. "Why are you here?" he asks again.

"Why are you here?" he asks again. The metal coins roll between and over my fingers like water. Like my hand has its own gravitational pull, the coins never leave. "Why are you here?" he asks again. As I throw one coin up into the air, the other spins on the tip of my index finger. When the other lands, I open the palm of the hand that caught it. Now, I can see the other side of the coin. Four lines diverge from each side of the coin, meeting at the center. Resting where the center is, a tower is etched so deep into the coin that it's blackened the surface. "Why are you here?" he asks again. When the other coin stops spinning on the tip of my finger, it lands onto the palm of my empty hand. On the other side of this coin is a map of the world. A big blob of land surrounded by vast nothingness. Empty waters all around.

"Why are you here?" he asks again.

When I look up, they're gone. And I'm face-to-face with myself, looking into a blue crystalline mirror which the woman held. Purple light bursts from the inside of the mirror, shattering the glass, burning into my eyes.

A song plays. Chimes ring, slow, steady, building, then silent.

​

​

{9.7--}

Trumpets, loudness, cheering... From what I can hear, a parade is going on. What are they celebrating? It's dark, pitch black. I see nothing. All I can do is hear. Then a voice is heard. "Do you really wear this during missions? pretty useless if you ask me." The voice is mine. I feel my hand reach up to my face, removing whatever is blocking my vision, and light cracks through till I finally remove it. I flip it over and look at it. A smiling mask with no holes in it to see. A fragile hand moves and rests on top of it, taking it out mine. I look up and see a black silhouette. I look around, only certain things are visible while the others are just shadows. From what I can tell, I'm in a bedroom. "So, what's next in the plan?" I ask, falling back onto the bed. Stiffly, the silhouette body walks over to the blackened-out window and stares. I sit up and prop one knee up, watching her. We clean off the edges. It must have said, but all I see are written out words. I can't hear its voice. I can only read the words, but, for some reason, my mind can't grasp what they actually mean.

The silhouette walks over to me and sits beside on the bed. Grabbing the picture book she offers, I flip through pages and pages of images scratched out and unintelligible names. Some images had red Xs going over them. Then I stop on one of them, putting a finger on his face. Written beneath the image, are the letters L.e.o.n B.l.a.c.k. "You're going to hate this." I say. The figure's speech writes out. I couldn't. But I have a feeling you will. "I feel this guy will be a good card." I tell her, pocketing the picture and standing up. "You know where I can find this guy?" I ask. Where they all hide. Where they always hide. I walk over to the figure and kiss it on the cheek. "Might not get a chance to talk later." I explain, grabbing my guns and leaving through the door.

...

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​

{.9--}

As the girl scrubbed away at the sparkling glass cup, I continued with my intentional pestering. "C'mon. Sing it! Please! For me!" Ignoring me she moves on the the next glass. Sliding over a little closer to her on the counter, my hand nudges the glass she just finished onto the ground. It crashes, causing the most intense silence. Staring at the glass shards, she starts to breath heavily. Blood drains from her face and hands, but she doesn't move. She doesn't react. She's trying super hard not to. "I guess I didn't make myself clear." I shrug and say. Suddenly, blue flame bursts out the sink, the ground quakes, the drawers shake, a metal knife flies into her hand, and her hand flies over to my face. She looked so infuriated, trying so hard to speak but too mad to find the words. Well, the words in my language. Watching her like this made me laugh. I then steal a kiss and run for my life out the kitchen. The kiss will startle her and give me some time, but she'll catch me in no time. She's amazing. All of us know it. I can tell that the people she's never around are making her out as something she isn't. She's my other half. The angel I can't kill. We are immortal souls bound, and they can't take that away from us. Tackled and pinned to the ground, I listen to her hum our song.

...

I open my eyes, back inside the metal room on the bed. I'm sitting up at the edge, but the two cloaked figures are gone. The purple lines on the walls and ground, rather than moving methodically and leading to a certain direction, move disorderly and frantically, never standing still. My eyes can't keep up with the movement. As though they are sentient, they freeze when they "notice" me watching. Then they quickly start moving again. This time, with direction. They charge to the ground, racing to one point. My eyes follow, and wind up staring just below my feet. Two workers. Two people lay there. One with my shoe on his face, and the other not too far away. They're unconscious. I lift my foot and kneel to check the man's pulse. They're dead.

They're dead. He's dead. I stand up and rush over to the woman and press my finger against her neck only to feel that there's no pulse. She's dead. They're dead. Leon. Leon did this. He killed them; he knows we're on his trail. It's the only explanation. Shakily, I get to my feet, and, as I stand, from the corner of my eyes I see two leather shoes. My eyes follow up the path from shoes to black pants to trench to white shirt to black tie to blood stains to... to my face. I stumble and fall back onto the metal bed. He looks back at me with piercing blue eyes and steps forward over the bodies like they aren't there. Once we're face to face with just an inch between us, he stares for a long moment in silence. Then, I hear that same humming tune come from him as he backs off and starts to slowly pace the room. He is- was me. How is he here? How is he outside of... me? He seemed lost and confused, but only for a second.

He paced, trying to collect lost memories of a past life, and, despite that, his disposition was something at ease and wholly collected. He was a splitting image of myself, yet not. There was a psychotic element additional. He started to ask me questions. He sounded like we've known each other like the beginning of time. I'd answer his questions about life and humanity, and he'd chuckle. Then he'd ask more, and his laugh became even more manic. He asked names and things I've never heard before, matter of fact, I couldn't hear the names at all. He'd repeat it, but the sounds didn't make sense in my mind.

"And what about Ringleader?"

"What?"

He laughs with an annoyed expression on his face.

"The Woman in Silk."

"Oh... she's. ok. I might replace her... only temporarily."

He asked more questions. Some about my love life, he looked momentarily angry when I said I'm single and not interested- not entirely interested. He laughed when I told him about my job, before the temporary promotion. Then- I don't know why I did- I told him about HIDRA and Theodora. And father. And what he told me. He stops walking and pauses. His head turns up and a quieter laugh escapes from his lips.

"so, the man's really going to..."

"What about ten." He asks, but it was more a command. "The... the number?" I ask, wondering its importance. He looks over at me and walks closer, ignoring all courtesy laws of personal space. His smile was big and full of perfectly arranged teeth, and a scar rests on his upper lip. The scar that gives us such charming characteristics. His teeth were white, sharp. As he stared expectantly with those piercing blue eyes, I felt as though I'm walking on a tightrope above a floor of knives. Is this really how I look?

"I don't know anything about..."

He's silent.

Never breaking eye contact.

"fair enough." He says. He backs off and momentarily starts to walk off, but then stops to turn around and look back at me. "Oh, and one more question." My eyes wander back down to look at the corpses.

"Why do you have my face?"

My lips twitch, and words struggle to find their way till they finally give in. And I say nothing.

"Well..." He says, laughing. Reaching over to grab me, his hand fazes through my body. Then, he tries again and again. On the fifth try, he ends up grabbing my shoulder and lifting me to my feet. 

"...I've got a lot of catching up to do." He says, momentarily looking at his hands then down at the workers.

"A lot of stuff happens when you're... dead."
 

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    Diamond leads me as part of the line of statues today. Their peculiar majesty of a march is too hard for me to match. Instead I follow at the side like an adoring bystander, and look at each individual Maiden and Bachelor in their positions and different lines. They're wearing masks that parallel their personas. Some are beautiful and elegant, others bland or sad, but there's one that really catches my attention. Among all the color and ornament of the Maidens is a girl in nothing but black and white. She wears a black mask with no holes to see or breathe. She doesn't look like she fits in too well. Maybe I can make friends with her first. It's easier to make friends with people who have stuff in common.

They all step in unison, forward and toward the lower levels of the Headquarters. Then, the two lines go different ways; two different rooms on the basement levels lead and connect by a third room behind, so Diamond has told me. Two changing rooms.

Entity voice detected: recording and playing. "Sh!" I say, maybe too loud as Diamond gives me a quick glare. "Just-just connect communication inside." I think. After a couple moments of static and hard listening, I hear the faint voice of a man. I remember how they looked before they came here. They were all so despaired, determined, excited to run away from it all. Heh. Look at them. Nothing changed. What is that? The Maidens all undress silently. Seeing this, I look away and hide in the corner of the room. They were still wearing their masks.

Finally, Diamond leads me to some room behind a one-way mirror. I'm so nervous; I can't keep still. I stare into a steamy room with multiple hot tubs lined up on either side of a set of wide stairs, leading to the mirror. Diamond warns that she'll have to leave soon to prepare, but then sits beside me on the mediocre metal char. The chair is so polarly opposite to her appearance; I kinda can't help but giggle a little bit. "You probably have tons of questions." She says and stares out the mirror. "Yes, Diamond." I state. "That's disgusting. Call me Dia."she says and sighs, shaking her masked head. There's so much the world doesn't know about Maidens and Bachelors. I don't even know where to start! "I- uh... what will happen to me first when I become a Maiden." I ask, not really sure if I should.

"The Maidens of Pandora and Bachelors of Evolutión are purposed as an image of a world gone wrong. We show our world leaders of what mustn't be, while assisting them in the bettering of this world, so that we may not repeat." She lectures and stands up. As she stands, the fluffiness of her dress poofs out in full force. Right, an image of a world gone wrong. I've heard that Maidens have all their memories. Wouldn't that be something... it'd be my heaven. Of course, I can't ask about that. "What's going to happen here?" I ask. "Tsk. You don't already know?" she remarks but then looks down at me. "The world leaders. The highest positions of each division of humanity choose a Maiden or Bachelor to serve them for life. Through our assistance and example, we keep the leaders in line and following the path away from corruption." She goes on, "today there are two possible commissioners. One is on their way now to make the decision of whom they desire." Oh yeah! Luke and Seán! But- whom they desire? I get the process, but Dia phrases it in such a way... "Alright, I'm tired explaining. Just watch." She says before leaving me alone to stare out at the room before me.

    I wait for a while in complete silence, but then I hear a click and singing. Two doors swing open together, one on the left side of the room and the other on the right. What I hear sounds like two different songs in a fight to find balance. The song is shocking to my mind, and I feel a lifting and pushing feeling all at once. Then, I feel a lurching feeling overtake everything else. The Maidens and Bachelors are lined up again in their two lines beside each other. But, instead of being in their elegant dress-wear with unique patterns and tailoring, they're naked. They're butt-naked outside of wearing their masks. Ah! I thought they were going to change into something else! Like maybe a swimsuit or something!

I want to look away so bad, but my eyes can't peel away from the sight as they walk down the stairs and break off individually into their own hot tub. The Bachelors take the tubs on the right, and the Maidens take those on the left. I feel blood rushing up to my face, the hairs on my back and arm rising, and, like, everything delicious I'd eaten for breakfast coming back up. This is so weird! I didn't want to see all that! Even despite that fact, I still can't look away. Once they're all in their tubs, the song gets louder, until falling completely quiet.

    For the longest time, they just sit in the tub and wait. The Maidens nor the Bachelors look at one another. 
 

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{.l--}

I once thought there were other solutions. Rather than shutting myself away, I was trained to act normal, make friends, and believe that no trouble follows. I chant those words as though I believed that, if I said it long enough, I'd come to believe it true. At each step I take on the ruff gravel ground, I weakly whisper. Act normal, make friends. The rocks move and cut the soles of my feet that are already sore from the running earlier. I look back. Small hints of smoke climb in the air. My lips move, mouthing out "I love you." It was forced. It was a lie. With dry eyes, I turn back and continue to the great white wall. Even still, my hand reaches to my face to wipe away nonexistent tears, leaving a red stain on my face.

Father's suspicions were proven that day.

Immediately on the other side, a party went on. A banner reads:

!!The Wall is Complete!!

Children dance in circles with one another, holding each other's hands. They play games but none of them wanted to choose a side against their "best friends". I turn and face the adults. Some are normal and just walk around, or converse by the fire. While the others... couples run into hidden away corners, to do their business, or plainly express their love publicly. Others, fat as the food they eat, feast at a long rectangular table, unable to talk to one another because they're busy stuffing themselves. Some gamble taking as much money as their pockets can handle. If they lose, I can hear them mumbling beneath their breath how they'll take their revenge on the victor, some actually act out on their hatred, and others chose a different rout against themselves, blaming themselves for their loss. The victors lie to get their victory. I hear lies to one another all around. Lies about love, friendship, and any kind of tie. At the game table, they betray each other just to win the game. How predictable. How boring. Once I make it to the table undetected, I listen in to their conversation. "What you think they gonna do with those-" my mind sensors that title they gave us, "mother" told me it was a derogatory term. "Throw 'em all out. We got a wall now."

I leave that table and head to the food. Beneath the table, I look at the fried food I've stolen. A leg of a chicken, deformed, disproportionate, the size of the legs of all the ones I'm staring at. Taking a bite into the greasy trash, I spit it out onto the ground. At hearing this, those who own the legs around me bend down to see who's underneath. "Whatchu doing underneath there, honey." The woman smiles and taps her finger on my nose. At each word, food comes spilling out her mouth onto my face. The bottom of the table must be dark enough that they can't see. I sneak off before they begin to see.

The drunks danced just as the children did. Though still weak and getting worse, I dodge past the unbalanced fools and bump into a group. They were years older than me, and, as they began to turn around, they peer angrily with fists ready. "Show your face." One of them says. Enraged at my refusal to comply, he begins to swing violently in the air, landing a hard blow to my head. I fall onto the ground; my head throbbing as much as my body. I crawl off silently. Father is correct. Humans are all born naturally sinning beings.




 

​

"...so where we headed, Seánshine?" I ask myself- he asks me. I don't want to talk to him, but he won't shut the hell up. "Headquarters, I guess." I reply. Damn it, I probably look crazy.

     I head down to the lower levels and enter into the room labeled with my name. Inside, there is a slab of metal that's supposedly a table and a door on the other side of the room. On the table are stripped swim shorts. It looks idiotic. "Nice." He says nodding his head. It's his body too- no, no it's mine.

     Throwing my clothes off, I get into the shorts and looked at the paper that was underneath. There's nothing on it. He walks around the desk, kicking it's side and knocking on the top. I wonder if there's a specific time I'm supposed to go through the door. Why do I have to have a Maiden anyways? I could easily do this on my own. A pen rolls across the desk towards me. Picking it up, I click it open and test it on the paper.

   The moment the ink hit the sheet it began to travel on its own. It's not like it's magic. Magic doesn't exist. That'd be stupid. No, my hand was moving without me thinking about it. Just like second nature, I was drawing something out. A figure.

     A low pitched beep came from the other door I've yet to check out. "Right..." I say, pocketing both the pen and paper. As I walked to the door, the beep weakened until I heard nothing but a soft sizzle.

     When the door slid to the side, nothing was seen but a thick fog. Groping the air, I carefully slid my foot forward. The floor was slippery, and, if I'm not careful enough, I'll definitely fall on my face. The room was completely silent outside the sound of hot air. Left and right all that's seen is white. For a second I stop and fan the air around me. This is so dumb. I'm tired of the ridiculous shit these people put me through to do simple stuff. Can't I just get started on the investigation and have an assistant assigned to me? Without hesitation, I step forward. No more holding back.

"Watch out."

    For the longest time, I had been stuck in my own head, hearing only myself. To think that actually hearing my voice scared me, is stupid. I thought as I fell forward off a small ledge.

Steps.

     They're fucking steps! Who puts steps in a room that you can't see through!?! As my face implants into the ground it reddens with exasperation. So much so that I feel in full control. No more him. No more this. No more them. I dig my nails into the ground and crawl four legged down the steps. To that, I hear soft noises of shock, interest, and disgust. Damn them. Damn them!

     I keep going until my knuckles hit what feels like another metal desk. Getting to my feet, I brush of my shorts and turn away from the desk. "Show yourselves!" I yell out to the white.   No reply. "Show yourselves!" I yell again. No replies. "Show Yourselves." I scream at the top of my lung. 
A light drop runs down my forehead.

     Leaning back onto the desk, I look out waiting for something, watching the time waste away. I let out a breath I cannot see and close my eyes. I want to go home. Away from this place. Picking up the paper and pen in my pocket, I throw them out to my side. Momentarily, there is the fleeting sound of hitting a wall.  "You can't"-a voice interjects the silence. Another says, "silence." Then a myriad of voices begin to crescendo in whispers.

     I'm not opening my eyes to see. There's nothing there. This place is worthless. It's just a pen. Clenching my hands, I let out a breath I cannot hear.

     Then something soft presses against my forehead. It rubs for a second and removes itself. It's too hot in here. I'm getting dizzy. I want to go home.

     "Let's go home." I say to her.

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{..---}

The cuffs around my wrists tighten as the time passes, causing the bleeding to increase and infection more plausible. The hole they've thrown me into is dark, damp, and frozen. The cement walls closing in around me have hints of icicles forming on its sides. "Mother" stands before me, her face is shadowed, and her elderly features are silhouetted in the darkness. "You'll have lots of time down here for your eyes to adjust..." she says but grows silent, whispering beneath her breath, "such beautiful eyes."

"What did you expect? Disobedience is always followed by punishment. Even for you. Don't you understand? Our purpose for this world. Why you had to do it." Her shaky voice speaks again. She waits for a reply, but I neither show reaction or speak. I am just as predictable as the world, for I give no effort. Sudden light sparks behind her. "You need to remember your place. Where you belong. Who- what you are." She says as she pulls a bar from behind her back. The tip of the metal, shaped like an "x", glows orange. Slowly, her body moves around me to my back side. I am barren; I am naked. The shadows surrounding give the illusion that my eyes are closed. Muffled crying can be heard from behind. She's so weak. She's so boring. I know what comes next. Above I hear rain. Small drops pour down through cracks at the top. Intense heat. Unbearable cold. Silenced tears. Darkness, darker than the one I'm in.