My eyes snapped open. The chaos from earlier was gone- at least for now. In the middle of the blinding white void that made up the room, a radio that couldnt be seen, is sputtering and glitching, made static noises in the room. It was hard to tell where the sound was coming from.
Somewhere behind me? Or maybe in the front of the room? An olive leaf driffted from above, landing softly on the ground.
Hope.
My blood ran cold. Why? No point in even asking since there were never any real answers. All I had were lies. The kind where people tell themselves to make a nightmare seem less terrifying. To avoid facing the truth.
My face was paler than usual. I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt the sun's rays on my skin or even seen it. My eyes went wide.
Pain shot through me, like thousands of tiny hot knifes, the pain is so intense, nearly blurring my vision. The sent of blood filled the air, the sharp metallic scent choking my senses as I glance down at myself. I realize that everything below my sholders was gone. Ripped off. Savagely.
Shuffle. Stomp. Shuffle, shuffle, stomp, stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
What the hell was that?
People-if you could even call them that-emerged. They looked like something out of a horror movie. Pale like vampires, eyes like those old creepy antique dolls- lifeless yet always watching. But to top it off, parts of them have metal parts mixed with their flesh and blood that dried up over time and stuck to their clothes a little bit... Or maybe I'm just losing my mind??
I blinked, and suddenly they were doctors in white lab coats.
But I knew better than to ask for help, they wouldn't give it.
And I knew that by now.
The world wavered and went fuzzy, like I was being trapped inside a radio. Somewhere, distorted music started to play, and for a second, I was transported somewhere else. A softer place, where nothing hurt.
But just as fast as it came, I was pulled back into the white room, my body shreadded and blooded. One of the doctors leaned in close, his masked face inches from mine. My breath hitched.
What do you see?
Before I could react, he recoiled slightly, grabbed a needle, and stabbing it straight into my eye.
My mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out. Not even a whisper. Warm blood oozed, running down my cheek, and dripping onto the floor.
Bloop. Drip. Drip.
The pain spread, making my entire head throb.
Dizzy, I doubled over, coughing up blood.
Those same cold eyes. Always watching.
My vision turned to static. When I blinked, everything had disappered. The room was empty.
I was alone.
Is it better this way?
I shot upright, my body suddenly whole again, like nothing had happened. But I couldn't open my right eye. I stumbled off the sad little mattres, which had no blanket, no pillow, and contained anoying springs.
How was I even-?
The room spun, but I was used to it by now. A robotic claw apprered out of nowhere, connected to one of the bright white walls.
I stepped toward it, and it grabbed me.
My body freaked out, instincts going into overdrive. I kicked and thrashed, trying to break free, but the metal grip didn't budge.
Strangely, it didn't hurt. It's grip felt...Urgent, almost like it wanted to tell me something.
Nope. I'mdefinetlylosingit, I thought, almost laughing at the absurdity of it.
The claw around my wrist squeezed tighter, another set of robotic hands shoved flashing screens right into my face-way too close.
I couldn't even breathe. I look back, my body feeling weaker and numb by the second, Im still thrashing around, hoping for air.
it was there again. It was only for a glance, so it was only a shadow,
"Hey...!" I call out, my voice raspy, my throat in agaony.
But I didn't care. Why was it always like this?
"Wait...!" My vision going blurry. "Wait...! I've got...Another complaint!....Again.....I dont wanna feel a thing anymore...."
I call out,
I cough up blood, my body gives up on me, my knees buckel and I fall on the cold, hard white grownd. I couldnt see that well, and it dissapeared.
Again. Everything went black.....
**********************
".....Are you on your way?" a calm but slick voice spoke into a small box-shaped device that looked like an old walkie-talkie. Compact. Unable to be traced. A smile curved on the man's face, though nobody has seen his face and so therefore it would be impossible for anyone to see his smile. The voice on the other end replied, "Uh, yeah. We're on the way. So far no trouble...."
"Oh, that's no fun." the man said, his voice dripping with mock dissapointment.
"I was so sure He'd figure out and make some sort of scene, maybe even acknowledge it in his own pathetic way. But no." He sighed dramatically.
"But I guess that's that part of him I hate so much...I never know with HIM. I never know what he's thinking or what actions he's gonna do. So fustrating, isn't it?"
Silence.
Then came the laugh.
Low and slow at first, but it grew into something cold and menacing, the kind of sound that could make flowers wither and die. The voice on the other end stayed quiet, waiting to be adressed again.
And he didn't have to wait long.
"What time will you be getting there?" "Uh, it's about eleven so....I would say in about an hour- "
"No...." "Huh..? What do you mean?" The man on the other end hesitated, clearly confused. Wasn't it the goal to be as fast as possible with this task?
"What I mean is," The slick voice hissed, sharp with irratation,
"-you will not be getting there in an hour, idiot....He'd expect you to be there, didn't you read my cryptic messages I sent to you? Don't tell me you don't even know how to solve a cryptic message...." the man hissed.
The mans tone grew darker, colder,
"I even made it simple to solve, just for you...."
"Sorry sir," The voice said, though there was a hint of growing frustration beneath the apology. "But I didn't get the right one. The one I got was in Spanish, and you know I can't read Spanish....." "What do you mean it was written in Spanish? I didn't give you one written in Spanish...wait-"
He clicked his tounge in irritation, a sharp tsk breaking the silence.
"What is it sir?" the man on the other end asked, sensing the others dangerous sense. "Nothing. It's just a shame that I'll have to kill yet another one of my workers....What a waste..Such a shame....Nani mo nai...That idiot must've given you the wrong note....And they had one job....He really is worth nothing....." The man on the other end swallowed hard,
"Anyways...." he said, trying to get back on topic, he honestly didn't care about what people anyone was planning on killing, he just wanted to know what the message was supposed to be.
"Ah, yes. Anyways, you have to keep cover, kill a few people that are not part of my will, you know the rules for that."
"But you just said I'm supposed to keep cover, killing people would-"
"-Confuse investigators or the police, though I'm obviously not worried about them. The main goal is to confuse-no.....More like send a message to him. Besides, you're on the road driving, stop at places and then commit a crime, don't draw too much attention, kill in some random place, then continue the drive. Make sure they don't attract any attention. By doing this, you will also be stalling instead of making it to the location on time like He's expecting...."
Silence.
"You told me this 'oh-so-important' mission wouldn't take more than twelve hours. And now you're telling me that it's going to take me weeks if not months to make sure that someone won't be tracking my footsteps!?" The voice on the other end snapped, "Patience," The man's voice hissed, "This will all be worth it in the end....."
"I don't even see the purpose in this....."
"I never intended for you to know that...Now I will send you the right message this time and you are to follow them. If not, then I might just decide that I don't need you anymore and not pay you. Hell, I could even call the cops on you now and get you in jail for kidnapping and your past murders....Then I wouldn't even have to pay you, if anything I'd get paid for turning you in, and I'd seem even more innocent and keep my cover." The man laughed. The voice on the other side sighed in annoyance.
"You really are a nasty person." "Oh, I am so deeply wounded by your words and the fact that you assume that I'm a 'nasty person'."
The man said sarcastically.
"Especially coming from one of the worlds biggest outlaws...Does Toyama Park ring any bells??" "Shut the hell up, I'm ending the call-" "Aw, don't be like that. I was just playing around. Just be a good little soldier and follow directions and we all win, okay?" The man hissed again.
Beeep.
The call ended.
************************************
The silence in the car was absolute. It wasn't the natural quiet shared between people at peace; this is a silence born of exhaustion and suppressed emotions-a silcence that crept under your skin and forced you to confront the thoughts you didnt want to entertain.
Ringo sat in one of the backseats of car, her body angled toward the window, though her gaze was unfocused. The coldness of the window's glass was the only comfort she had. Ringo tryed not to think about where they may be going and why. She trys to block out all her unwanted questions racing in her mind. No words was spoken, they were to overwhelmed to speak. Only He could utter the first words, yet none was said.
The car was speeding, noticebly so. The kind of speed that felt deliberate-not reckless, but determined as if the driver was trying to outurn something that couldn't be excaped. The highway stretched on endlessly, a barren expanse with no other cars in sight, no lights, no signs of life. This absence was unsettling, though Ringo, nor Ringos friends commented on it. Perhaps they all understood that drawing attention to the emptyness would make it more real.
The emotions swirling within the car were palpable-dread, anger, confusion, sadness but instead tangled together, indistinguishable and suffocating. These weren't feelings you could name aloud without shattering something fragile.
But what? Why does it even matter?
Ringo's mind wandred to the hours they've already spent on this highway, the same muted scenery passing by like a broken reel of film. She wondered if the road would ever end or if it, like her thoughts, would stretch on forever- an endless inescapable loop of uncertainly and unease.
Ringo stared out the window, her gaze unfocused, as if looking beyond the darkness into something only she could see. It had been hours of this-silent, motionless, and suffocating tension. She looked outside a window that belonged to a car she shouldn't be in. One she didn't want to be in.
Her breath came out in shallow, hurried rhythms, a subtle but twinkling of the turmoil within. She shifted slightly, brushing a strand of short, light-green hair from her face. Her hand, numb and tingling with the sensation of compressed nerves, had been supporting her weight against the car door for too long. She flexed her fingers trying to coax back into them, only to realize the futility of it. She would lean back on her hand again and the pressure would return. And a cycle without purpose would continue again.
Outside, the world had surrendered to night. The stars shone faintly, completing with the distant glow of traffic lights and the dim illumination from the dashboard. In the front seat sat Him- the person responsible for this entire ordeal. The reason why their ordinary, peaceful lives had been ripped apart.
Ringo's thoughts drifted, unbidden, to the comforting monotony her usual nights. By now, she should have been asleep in her small, soft bed , lulled by the gentle hoots of owls and the steady rythm of her own breathing. Instead, every breath she took was like it might be her last. It was a gamble, her body gripped by the unrelenting pulse of adrenaline.
She glanced toward the back seat, where the others sat. Her friends were awake, wide-eyed, the same fear Ringo felt, was running through their bodys, like an invisable chain, binding them all to the same terrible reality. Ringo exhaled slowly, her chest tight, her heart twisting as she fought back intrusive thoughts creeping in her mind. Easy sleep was a luxury none of them could afford, not here- not with him.
Voule and Alberto had been subduded the hard way-knocked out and stuffed unceremoniously into the cramped, messy trunk of the black Handa SUV. They had fought back, of course. Too much in fact. Neauzua had put up just as much resistance, but when the trunk reached it's capacity, there was no choice but to seat him in the back, sandwiched between Ringo and Kakuri occupied the space to Nazuzua's left, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.
Attouki, usually the one to break the silence or tension in any room with her bright, carefree energy, now sat frozen in the front passenger seat. Her small frame seemed to shrink even futher, her hands clasped tightly together as if it might hold her fear at bay. She stared straight ahead, her wide eyes fixed on the road, unblinking. It was the kind of terror that robbed her of even her smallest comfort- her usual innocence now replaced by a suffocating dread.
Ringo tried not to think about it-the smallest shared terror coursing through all of them, the fear that clung to their skin like a second layer. But it was impossible to ingnore the swirl of emotions: fear, anger, confusion, worry, and, worst of all, the crushing weight of uncertainty. It was enough to make her head spin.
So she did what she could. She turned to face outward, letting her eyes trace the faint outlines of the night-sky through the car window. The temptation to glance at her friends tugged at her, but she resisted. She didn't want to see their faces-she didn't want to acknowledge the fear and shock merrored in thier eyes- expressions that would only reinforce her own gnawing dread.
Just don't think about it. Don't think about where we're going. Just breathe.
Ringo inhaled shakily, forcing herself to slow the erratic rhythm of her breaths. Her forehead came to rest on the window once more, the glass cold against her skin. That coolness- it was the only comfort she could cling onto in this moment. The only thing that felt real.
Breathe. Deep, calm breaths.
The mantra repeated in her mind, a desperate attempt to ancor herself against the rising tide of panic. But no matter how hard she tired to control it, her chest remained tight, her thoughts spiraling back to the same unspoken question: how had it come to this?
The car stopped abruptly. The tires screeched against the asphalt, jolting everyone forward. The sudden motion hit like a slap-sharp, unanticipated, leaving no time to brace. The jarring stop that made everyone jump, their hearts lurching in unison before plummeting
into the the depths of their chests.
Ringo barely had time to process what was happening. One moment, she was forcing herself to breath steadily against the cold glass of the window; the next, the inertia of the stop pulled her upright, her hands gripping the seat in reflex.
Then came the movement. Quick. Deliberate. The man in the driverseat twisted sharply, his hand moving with the fluidity of someone who had rehearsed this exact motion a thousand times before. The gleam of the gun caught the faint glow from the dashboard lights, the barrel turning toward the back seat.
BANG!