#epwrites

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Blessings From a Watermelon

She inspected all the local fruits and vegetables at a farm on an island. Every month or so she would go when she had extra money to set aside. It was a sort of paradise, getting to enjoy the labors of foods grown near her. Memories of her childhood when her parents would take her and her brother to the pumpkin patch, take home corn, and pluck the peaches off of their trees. Such memories was what led to her coming to this island farm each month.

″Spectacular Watermelons″, read a sign. Curiosity got the better of her. Whether her mind or her legs wandering off, she found herself in the patch of spectacular watermelons, unsure what awaited her. Yet to take anything home, it may not have hurt her to look for guidance in the watermelons. Many looked plump, only a few small. It was hard to determine which was good and which wasn't, but according to the sign, they were spectacular.

″Speak and tell, speak and tell,″ she heard some voices say. Others saying things like, ″falling from a windowsill.″ She didn't know where those voices were coming from. There was no one else in the fields with her. Other people were cherry picking fruits in any other fruits besides cherries. Vegetables were inspected from faraway. She could only see, but not hear the mouths of humans. Besides, these voices didn't have a particular tone or inflection, rather seeming to be a mish-mash of varying tones and inflections from her years of listening to people speak.

She thought she saw a round watermelon, such a perfect sphere, but she was deterred from picking it up when she heard a voice just behind her whisper.

″Look for the sign of the silver owl,″ it said. 'It' in question, being a watermelon. A little weathered, a little bruised. Seeming to have seen better days, but no less spectacular than any other. Unsure whether or not in a haze from the late summer sun, she knocked on the watermelon.

″Hey!″ It barked, but with no mouth to bark with. Only a little bit of dirt on its surface and vines surrounding it. She tried poking it. No ″hey″ this time.

″Look for the sign of the silver owl,″ it said again.

″What do you mean?″ She asked, hoping for an answer to this juicy riddle.

The watermelon repeated itself, just as a watermelon does.

She decided that there must have been some answer somewhere and that watermelon must have been the key, or at least some hint. The start of an adventure or a good luck charm. She pulled the watermelon and dropped it into her bag, which she then walked off, prepared to pay for the enslavement of such a being. All the while, the watermelon repeated the same thing, on and on.

Her way was becoming obscured. Elephants were better at this, but she was not in the right mind that day. She thought she would have been there by now, the place to check out the items and go home. Her car must have been miles away. The sky was changing shades, reflecting a passage which seemed unlikely. It was just early in the afternoon the last time she checked her phone, but now she looked and it said 8:45 PM. All logic may as well have been thrown out the window. In her bag was the watermelon, still saying the same thing. Only this time, there was also a couple shucks of corn, green beans, and bushels of grapes.

At least being in the corn fields were a little more comforting. She knew it was closer to the checkout area than where she was before. The watermelon still repeated those words. It was growing darker. Despite having corn in her bag, she had only just arrived in the fields. Birds of varying shapes and colors fluttered and landed on the stalks. Pigeons, crows and ravens, blue jays, hawks, doves. No silver owls.

Because of the words of the watermelon, she kept her eyes peeled. Why? She didn't know, but there must have been some significance. Funny, or coincidentally, enough, she saw owls. None of them silver. Most of them brown, or even some black ones. Owls that resembled ravens more than they did their owl kind. Each owl had one eye closed. Some their left, some their right. It was a peculiar thing. No explanation.

Some tragic accident? She asked herself.

″Look for the sign of the silver owl,″ the watermelon continued. This was a wasteful effort. What signs were there?

″Can you shut up?″ She asked the watermelon, although her tone suggested more politeness than her words, she was annoyed. The politeness came from exhaustion.

There was no shutting up this watermelon. She should have known after hours of carrying such a burden on her shoulders. Owls aren't all that interesting. Why did I listen to a watermelon?

In fact, despite the lack of interesting features she found in owls, she was beginning to see more of them than any other bird. None of them silver, still. The corn rows were beginning to form shapes of owls between them. If the last remaining bit of light hit the spaces in between just right, she thought that maybe there was just a sliver, just a little hint, of silver...

She was reaching the end of the corn field and she could see the canopy near the parking lot. The place where everyone went to pay. She had to be quick, for she knew that soon the place would close down, all the shopkeepers would go home, and the gates would close, leaving her stranded in a parking lot with a whole bunch of fruits and vegetables.

Despite knowing this, before she could move, she hit her head against a sign. Looking up, she saw a silver owl, perched. The watermelon stopped chanting.

″So, it called you too, huh?″

[loversofcovers]

Karen Ramirez covered I Didn't Know I Was Looking for Love by Everything but the Girl https://open.spotify.com/track/3awrsM8fdBP7PhFpk1MoQS more info:Original: Everything but the GirlDate: 1993 Format: single from I Didn't Know I Was Looking for Love EPWriter: Ben Watt, Tracey ThornVersion: Karen RamirezDate: 1998 Format: single from Distant Dreams album

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Looking Past It

My sister recently helped me move into my new apartment. After getting a few boxes in and getting my couch, a few chairs, and my table all set up, we decided to take a break. She packed a sandwich she had made from her own home and peeled a banana. While she ate, I took it upon myself to walk around. I was feeling unusually restless. It could have been an anxious spell, a sort of excitement, anything, really. Whatever sense of curiosity befell me, I opened the closet door in my living room, and to my surprise, there was a box taped shut.

It must have been leftover from the last tenant, but there was no name or address. Nothing written on the box. I brought the box out into the living room.

″What you got?″ My sister asked, mouth full of banana.

″Someone must have left this here and forgot about it after they moved out,″ I explained. Against my better judgment from all the horror movie scenarios I've seen, I posed the question: ″think I should open it?″

She shook her head. ″What if they come back asking for it? Pretty rude to just peek into people's stuff, don'cha think?″

I ignored her. Without even bothering to get a knife, I ripped the tape off of the box and opened it up. In retrospect, I don't even know why I asked her. My impulses were stronger than her suggestions. It's always been this way with us, though. Advice just goes right out the window.

Inside was an old cassette player. Or, at least, that's what it looked like. I guess what it more closely resembled was a Nintendo 64, right down to the rectangular, yet curved shape and the cartridges. There were a few scattered cartridges, in fact. I thought of calling them cassettes, but I didn't see any tape. Rather, what I saw on each one were dates.

7/7/1968, read one. Another, 10/8/1968. The dates ranged from 1968 to 1969. My sister leaned over and saw what I was holding.

″That's a long time for those to just be hanging around a closet,″ she observed, snorting and making a chuckle.

″Maybe it was a keepsake the previous owner had and just kept in the box. Or maybe they got it at an antique shop,″ I speculated.

″Maybe it's a bootleg video game console and the games are super bad,″ my sister also suggested.

She threw her banana peel in the trash. It was at this point that curiosity got the better of both of us and we threw caution to the wind. We plugged the electrical cord into the nearest wall socket and inserted the cartridge with the earliest date on it, labeled 5/7/1968. It (possibly) being so old, we weren't very sure what would happen. Some audio playing, some recording, perhaps? Most likely static and stuttering, then the machine turning off and us left to wonder what it would have played...

But no, instead, when we put it in, a tiny screen opened up. We weren't sure what to do next, so I pressed play. As soon as I did, a video played in black and white. In it, someone in a lab coat stood next to a table full of random trinkets. They started to speak, their voice muffled and filled with static, but we could still make out what they were saying:

″What you hold in your hand is, what I hope to be, the first device that allows you to go forward and backward through time. Due to the size, it only allows for one person and has yet to be tested. To use this device, press the rewind button to go backward in time and the fast forward button to go forward in time.

″Currently it's only set to go to a fixed point, the date on the cartridge. If you are from the future and you press rewind, it will take you there. If you are somehow in the past, you would press fast forward. A word of caution, as unfortunately I have no way of knowing where it will take you if you press fast forward from the future, or you are from before the date on the cartridge and press rewind. This device is still a work in progress and I hope to perfect its functions in later models. I hope that improved models may fall into your hands as well, whoever you may be.

″And to my daughter, wherever you are, I love you, and I'm sorry I get so absorbed in my inventions. I hope you see this one day.″

My sister and I turned to each other. We weren't sure how to react. Whether to laugh or be amazed. Then there was the message at the end, but it didn't seem to have any importance.

″Should I press rewind?″ I asked. ″Do you really think we'll go back in time?″

″You heard the guy. Even if this thing works, you'll be the only one going. I don't think that's very fair.″

″How about this? If it works, I'll come back and tell you about it, then you can try it. Deal?″

She smiled. ″Deal.″

″Well then, be right back,″ I mused, smiling as well before pressing rewind.

I left the house and into the darkness of the world outside. There, I ran out into the fields, past the cul-de-sac and toward the van where my girlfriend lived. She had her lights on and could hear me running. The stars were in full view, ripe for a calming moment for the two of us where we could lay on the roof and forget things for a while.

But tonight I had too much on my mind. After climbing up to the roof of her van and next to her, she could tell I just wasn't feeling the night's air like she was. When she would look over to me, I would turn my head, and when she pointed toward constellations, I would only nod and not be as amazed as usual.

″What's wrong?″ She finally asked, not wanting to keep up a silence that signified anything but peace.

The bubbles rose to the top and I couldn't help myself. Once I started, I knew I would be in a frenzy.

″My parents, they're so square! They don't dig the way I dress! They call me 'dirty commie!' just because I can't stand unnecessary war! They see my flower crown and my earrings and shred me to pieces over it!″ Every other word I spoke seemed to carry a growl along with it. She knew how I could get and she gave me a kiss on the cheek.

″Thank you. It's just...how can they be so anti-peace? They act like everything is dandy as long as it's 'for the country',″ I continued, using air quotes while doing so.

″They just don't vibe to the same tune, dear,″ she comforted.

″Ugh! Tell me about it! Tired of school, in all honesty! I just wanna take this van and live off nature with you!″

Her smile gave me warmth, even in the cool air of the night. ″And maybe we can.″

I sighed. I should have been calmer, but I was still so full of worry. ″I want to, but I'm worried. What if I'm not ready? What if I regret it?″

She laughed a little. ″Your parents really did name you after an active volcano, huh?″

I started to blush. ″Wha...What of it?″ I turned away, asking.

″You're hot like one!″ She yelled, then formed her hands into claws and tickled my sides. If she (and I) weren't careful, I could fall.

Sometime later, while still late in the night, I crept back into that same house. No lights on, save for one: the door to the garage, where my father spent his time making things. He spoke so in favor of 'Nam, both him and my mother, that it was any wonder how he had such a knack to make trinkets. I never thought much of it, but I knew when he wasn't ranting about how right our government and its killings were, he was busy ranting about how he was one day going to make it big. Revolutionize the world or something.

Rather than go to my room and sleep, I took it upon myself to crack the door open just a sliver more. What I saw was just the dim light of a flashlight. He himself, was nowhere to be found. No other sign of life. Shelves full of unfinished toys and metal parts that didn't seem to fit with anything. On one  of the tables, in the middle of everything else, however, was a rectangular box with some kind of cassette tape on it, although lacking in actual tape, and instead had the date 6-8-1983. That year hadn't happened yet. My guess was that it could have been something he was planning to have made by that date.

Curious, I pressed play. Expecting sound, instead a screen opened up. How he had managed that was somewhat of a feat I never saw him capable of.

On the screen was an image of my father, pacing across the garage, smoking a pipe.

″Ah, hello there. If you are watching this, I expect you wish to travel to the future? The very place we find ourselves in every second of the day. Who knows what might await us there? I've set a fixed date to where you will find yourself in if you so choose to press the fast forward button. If you wish to go to the past, press rewind. Be warned that I have yet to coordinate a specific date before 1968, so if you choose to visit the past, there is no way of telling where you might end up.

″One last thing: hold onto this device. Whether you press fast forward or rewind, this device goes with you. But if you aren't holding onto it when you move, it will move elsewhere, and you will have to locate it if you wish to go back to your own time.

″And to my daughter, I love you, whoever you may be and wherever you may go in life. Even though we don't always see eye to eye, my one wish to you is that you may find happiness.″ He took a puff from his pipe and the recording ended.

I wondered if this was his way of apologizing without saying it face to face. It felt too sappy, too sentimental, for him. I shook off the last message and focused on the first two: the possibility of leaping so far forward in time. It made me chuckle, but once again, curiosity got the better of me, and I pressed the arrows pointing forward.

At first nothing looked different until I realized I was outside. Not only that, when I turned around, I didn't see an apartment complex, but instead a suburban jungle – houses sprawled in a circle. When I there were houses lined up every which way, in every which shape. All I knew is that those homes were things I would never be able to afford. My credit was too poor and I wasn't one to be scammed by a subprime mortgage.

There was a newspaper on the sidewalk, the date saying July 7th, 1968.

I wanted to explore, immerse myself in the experience that was this era, but fear began to take hold: I didn't know how I was going to get back to my own time. Anyone else would have forgotten that little detail and went exploring, but it was already at the forefront. I didn't have the device with me. Without it, I couldn't imagine any other way I could go back to my own time. Panic set in and I went on autopilot, wading through the streets of this neighborhood.

Street names were the same. Alder, Hawthorne, Birch. If I wasn't mistaken, this was the same place I knew, but a setting I was unfamiliar with. Some things remained the same: a corner store, a post office, a museum. One building I passed by held a tinge of familiar and yet was certainly a piece of the past: a red bricked school building. Nowadays I knew it for being renovated into both a bar and a movie theater. Back then, it was a high school. Teenagers were crowding around the building in their school uniforms. There were a few who weren't wearing their uniforms, and I thought of how lucky I was for never having to wear one when I was in high school.

Some of the students were wearing tie-dye shirts and some in flannel. Some in overalls. I noticed a girl pass by, blonde hair, wearing a beret, hooped earrings, and the signature tie-dye shirt a few other students were wearing. Some were sitting outside the school in the lawn, with signs protesting the Vietnam war.

I didn't have the heart to tell any of them how it would turn out. I didn't even know if I should meddle in a time that wasn't my own. There were rules that were never explained, ones that I never thought I would have to follow. So instead I prayed that they saw me instead as a passerby, or didn't see me at all.

Days passed and every now and then in cafes I would see the paper. Sure enough, it was 1983. Things were different, but...not enough. The war ended as a disaster. More losses, nothing to gain. My eyes were weary, not the free spirit I used to see myself in mirrors. My whole self was defined by coffee and stale toast in diners, mooching off food from whoever would give some to a young girl like me.

Of course, I still had the device with me. I held on, just as my father instructed. I didn't think anything of it until I actually realized that I was still holding the device and in a time that wasn't mine. For whatever reason, I didn't return just yet.

It wasn't until a following morning, in an empty cafe, that I let out a deep breath and pressed the rewind button. Seeing how the war ended and my disillusionment for it all, I felt a stronger desire to return. I would return with a new confidence, resolute to run away with my girlfriend, in my own time, and not wherever she may have been here. But before I were to spend my life with her, I wanted to see my father one last time.

″What took you so long?″ My sister asked. I gulped. The truth was that I broke into someone's home and found the device. It took me a few tries. Once I was in the 80s. Then I was in the year following the great recession. After, I found myself right outside the apartment complex.

″How long was I gone?″ I asked, not answering her own question.

″Only about a few minutes. Finished my banana while you were out. So did you travel through time or just go outside for a few minutes?″

″A little of both,″ I admitted.

I decided to go for a bit of a walk. She could mess with the device if she wanted to. Outside, things were more how I was used to seeing them, but I still got  blurred visions of images in 1968. I felt a migraine coming along and I would have to go to the nearest Rite-Aid and pick up some excedrin to deal with it. For a second, as I passed by the movie theater, I thought I saw the same girl walking by on the sidewalk, the one with blonde hair, hooped earrings, tie-dye shirt. But instead, it was someone else, wearing an overcoat, despite it being the middle of summer. Or early spring.

My brother just got back and already went back outside. We still have all this unpacking to do and I'm not going to do it for him. I felt like napping on the sofa, figuring I would wake up by the time he got back. I was just about to drift off when I heard a knock on the door.

I lazed out of the sofa and opened the door. There was a girl in a thick overcoat. It wasn't a particularly hot day, but it seemed out of place.

″Hey, I just moved out. I fear I may have left something here,″ she explained, voice cracked and shaken.

″Uh...″ I stalled.

″Excuse me, can I help you?″ I heard my brother's voice behind this stranger claiming to be the former tenant. The stranger in the overcoat ignored this voice and leaned her head through the door. I wanted to yell ″hey!″ but it was too late, she had shoved past me and ran over to the sofa where the device was sitting.

My brother gasped, and pushed his way in as well.

She started shuffling through the cartridges, going through different dates. I heard her mutter about how the one she had was labeled ″1983″ but the latest these ones went to was only to the year ″1969″.

She found one, however, dated 11-10-1969.

″This is the earliest one here.″ She looked over to us. ″Hey, mind if I plug this in?″

My brother and I exchanged glances. He turned back to her. ″Well, if this is your stuff...″

″You already helped yourself...″ I groaned.

We all sat down at the table. She put the cartridge in the device and pressed play.

It began, once again, with an image of her father. Black and white.

″My daughter, I'm sorry. I failed.″

She started to tense up. I could already feel the air different. Before she had a sense of urgency, curiosity, but this other feeling I couldn't place so easily. She wept, placing her head on my chest and tears catching on my turtleneck.

I looked up across the table and saw my brother. He shrugged and gave an awkward look befitting for such a position.

The video continued. ″I made a grave mistake. I cannot see you anymore.″

She leaned up and wiped away her tears. ″It's okay now. I know you're in a better place, wherever you are. I've grown. I just want you to know that I love you too, dad.″

That should have been the end of it, but while she was composing herself, the video kept playing. Rather than the black and white, it tinted to a dark reddish color, and the image of her father, the inventor, went warped. His eyes were all blacked out and everything went fuzzy. The static was more pronounced. His voice spoke, though for the most part, incomprehensible.

″Consume. Eradicate. Devour. Rupture. Ravage. Scratches. Shreds across the universe.″ Were words that could be made out from the demonic voice that seemed to now make up his voice. Her previous calming went back to an upset and she leaned back into my chest. Yet again, I didn't know what to make of the situation, but fear overtook me as it must have her.

My brother got up and turned off the tape.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Happiness Overload Chapter Fourteen

″So there's this village. I don't know where. Like Ireland, or something. It's gotta be Ireland because it's like a community in the forest and everyone believes in fairies. In fact, fairies ARE real. Everyone knows that, but only the children can see the fairies. When children play around outside, fairies are often there with them, playing along as well. Some pull tricks, some are quite nice and helpful.

″Every morning, the kids play and their fairies accompany them. It's, like, tradition, and tradition is everything in this village. Well, one kid, a wily brown haired kid. I'm not sure what his name is..Taz? Let's just go with Taz. It's easier. What? Why Taz? Look, I'm not good with making up names. It's not like there was a name given in the story.

″Anyway, this Taz kid was quite the troublemaker. Every other kid knew that. He was also a bit of a clown. Everyone expected him to do something funny. Pull some prank. And his accompanying fairy, an equally mischievous girl, was always inspiring him to do some thing or other. One day while the kids where chasing each other with sticks, Taz's fairy whispers in his ear.

″'hey everyone will be impressed if you can steal the large diamond from the museum'.

″So that's where we're at. He really wants to impress the other kids. What? Look, I don't know. There can be museums in an Irish village. Please stop interrupting.

″Okay, as I was saying: he decides late at night he'll go into the museum and capture the diamond. Seems like quite a feat, right? A kid stealing a diamond when there's lasers and security cameras. What? There can be lasers and security cameras in a village. It's not exempt to that. This isn't so rural that that stuff doesn't exist. Anyway, the fairy helps Taz steal the diamond by diverting the attention of the cameras. The fairy creates these illusions, little specks of dust, but in a single moment, they look like humans.

″Maybe the alarms should have gone off if the cameras saw something that looks like humans. But no, that's not what cameras do. You know that already, don't you? It's the lasers that trip the alarms. The cameras just watch things. It records it and later there will be a record. Now the trouble with the lasers is another matter entirely. I don't actually know how it was done. Probably careful calculation or something. The fact of the matter is, Taz stole the diamond and walked out scot-free.

″The next day, Taz went up to all the other kids and showed off the diamond. The fairy cackled while Taz reveled in his short burst of fame, unknowing that showing off the large diamond was his downfall. Just as soon as he showed it off, a police car came and arrested him.

″'Please help me get out of this situation!' He begged his fairy. But instead, the fairy shook her head and grinned.

″'Sorry, kid, but you're on your own. Shouldn't have gotten caught.'

″So just like that, the kid gets thrown in the van and gets sent to juvenile hall.

″No. That's not the end of it. It's not over. Just wait.

″After years of serving time in juvie, the kid gets out and instead of learning his lesson, becomes a full fledged thief. He has no home to go to and instead moves to a city far away, where he can hone his skills. Living off of stolen food in the day time and going for higher end things in the night.

″The city where he moves to is one where at any given time, it's a different season. Time works on a different axis than most places, and it could be hot and snow within the same hour. It's a place which gives him a purpose, this Taz kid. He lives for such an adventure.

″As for his fairy, which as you know, when a kid grows up, they can no longer see fairies. For some reason this doesn't apply here. Taz can still see his. His fairy has a name, her name being Euphoria, but he calls her Euphy, for short. Euphy travels with him, stalking items to lay claim to day by day.″

″What? That's like the stupidest thing I've ever heard,″ I gave my honest opinion of Blanc's whole dream story. Light constructive criticism goes a long way. ″When you're telling a story, you don't want to go in first person, first of all. It just breaks the narrative. You're the narrator. Just let the story be told.″

″It's a dream!″ Blanc shot back. ″What do you expect?″

″That's no excuse. Just because it's a dream doesn't mean you have to make it sound so bad. Exaggerate! Elevate it! Make it something better!″

Blanc groaned.

″Hey! What's with that groan?″

″It was your idea in the first place...″ they replied, arms crossed, head turned.

″It was okay for a first try,″ I tried to reassure, lift their spirits up.

″I thought it was pretty cool!″ Art chimed in. ″It probably meant something! Maybe it signified your past or your future!″

″Shut up!″ I pointed to Art. ″What kind of name is 'Euphoria', anyway? Let alone 'Euphy'? Such a terrible name for a fairy.″

Blanc looked startled. Hurt for some reason. Right on the spot, I regretted what I had said.

″I take that back. It's unique. I doubt I'd have come up with a name for a fairy like that. I'd probably have given it something like 'Basil' or 'Clover'. Those are stupider names. I'm already cringing and those are names I made up!″

″Let's see you do better, Satin!″ Art egged. He thought he was being so clever, putting me on the spot, but I saw it as a perfect opportunity.

″Yeah, show us how it's done,″ muttered Blanc. I thought for sure I would have cheered them up. I think they cracked a smile, but it was hard to really say. I was in my zone. I cracked my knuckles a bit and stretched my arms, although I worried of elbowing someone. Couldn't be too rowdy in this car.

″With pleasure,″ I announced.

″Three friends attended high school together, going about their day to day wondering what might come of their future. At the start of the day, they would take their seats next to the window during homeroom. One particular day started just as most did. All the students shuffled into the classroom, their noisy little selves, and sitting where they always have. The homeroom teacher took attendance.

″'Blanc Slait?' She read.

″'Not here,' Blanc replied.

″'Conrad?' She read next, and for some reason didn't read off a last name.

″Conrad didn't respond at first. The teacher called again.

″'Roll call is a fundamental obstruction of student rights and aims to oppress us all,' Conrad finally responded with.

″The teacher sighed. 'I'll take that as a 'here'.'

″Velvet was the last of the three friends, but the teacher only had to look at her to know she was here. That was because despite sitting next to the window, she sat toward the front of the class, and not in the back.

″'Now that that's out of the way, the teacher began with a sigh. 'I'd like to introduce our new student, Violet'

″Violet was stunning. The most beautiful girl to ever step foot in that high school. Hell, the most beautiful girl on Earth. She walked in wearing a tuxedo, leggings, and a top hat. It was reminiscent of those magicians' assistants. The kind that got chopped in half, but they weren't really chopped. They were okay. Every. Damn. Time. Kind of a ripoff, really. But you're glad in this case because damn it, Violet had the air about her that just screamed 'you deserve not to be chopped.' Yeah, she was that kind of dream girl, alright.

″Violet took a bow. 'Nice to meet you, everyone!' She then did a little thing with her fingers that entranced the audience, and out of nowhere, a ball of water danced across her fingers, forming different shapes before dissolving and disappearing. She grabbed a tissue out from her pocket just to point out that her hands were dry. It was amazing.″

″After everyone was speechless, minus the teacher who just whispered under her breath 'fuckin' showoff', Violet took another bow and walked toward the back of the class. But not toward the window, but instead the only open seat available: in the middle of the back row. It was as if even in the back, she was the center of attention.″

″'Impressive, but I'm going to have to ask you to not wear your hat in the classroom,' the teacher scolded Violet. She just smiled and shrugged, picking her hat off from her head and placing it under her desk. From underneath, her long purple hair could be seen by all.″

″During lunch, all the kids would try to gather around Violet, some wanted to hit on her, some wanted to see her do magic tricks. The idea that she could manipulate water like that, it seemed like it came straight out of a fantasy novel. She paid no mind to advances, and made no friends. Although she was the center of attention, all she wanted to do was put on a show and nothing more. She never revealed her secrets to anyone.″

″Of course, the three students next to the window, Blanc, Conrad, and Velvet, were also interested in her. Well, not Conrad. He couldn't care less. He rambled on about how he couldn't trust her and how she was probably an agent for the Illuminati or some shit like that. But Blanc and Velvet? They were head over heels. The two wanted to make friends with Violet they wanted to know what she knew.″

″And guess what? Violet already knew this. Call it psychic powers or intuition, but when Blanc and Velvet approached Violet, she was already prepared. She stuck her index finger up into the air, then pointed at the two of them. 'I can tell what your intentions are!' She declared. 'You two want to know my secrets, and you already know that I can't reveal them!'″

″Blanc and Velvet sighed in unison. They had been caught. However, Violet continued her spiel.

″'That's because there is no secret! I can teach you what I know, but there is nothing magical about it! Water is everywhere, in everything. You cannot control it, but you can learn to work with it!'

″Neither Blanc nor Velvet understood Violet's words, but they nodded anyway, too enchanted to argue.″

″Thus, every day at lunch, it was settled that the three would meet at the fields and Violet would teach the two the ways of water. She insisted on meeting up with them individually, so it would usually be that Blanc would get 15 minutes, then Velvet the other 15 minutes. As things went along, the two practiced and practiced, competing with each other to have a better grasp over the water utilizing techniques and one day hope to impress Violet.″

″More so Velvet, even. It could be said that Velvet was in love with Violet. No, scratch that. She was definitely in love with Violet. No 'could' about it. She decided that no matter the outcome of this competition, she had to tell Violet how she really felt about her. 'Tomorrow, I will,' Velvet vowed.

″But that day never came. The next day, Violet was nowhere to be found. There was a black armored truck parked outside of the school. As Blanc, Conrad, and Velvet, along with the rest of the students took their seats, the teacher had to break the news.

″'Class, I regret to inform you that Violet was assassinated by the FBI. They haven't given the cause, only that she had to go.″

″Wow,″ was my initial reaction. Not because her dream, or her story, whatever it should be called, was good, but because I was left speechless. ″Why did she have to die?″

″Tragedy is a recurring theme in my life,″ Velvet retorted.

″Yeah, but it was a dream!″ I protested. ″There was no reason for that! I thought you of all people would have had her live!″

″I didn't want to stray too far from the dream. Otherwise you two wouldn't believe that's how it happened. Sure, I'd love a happy ending, but that's not what happened in the dream, now is it? We're not telling stories we just made up, we're talking dreams, here, people,″ she tried to explain. I wasn't satisfied, but I didn't want to argue the point further. I huffed and crossed my arms.

″I liked it!″ Art commented. Of course Art liked it. Something told me Art would have liked any story. Not that that's a bad thing, but it really rubbed me wrong when he dismissed me trying to describe Euphoria. ″Who were you in it, Satin?″ He continued, asking a question with an obvious answer. ″Conrad? Blanc? Violet herself?″

Velvet laughed and fanned herself. ″Oh my! I think I was probably the teacher! Or maybe I was a student with no role in the story!″

″What? Really?″ Art asked. I would have asked the same, but there would have been a different connotation if I had asked it.

″Now that I think of it, I probably wasn't even a character. More like I was an all seeing God, looking in. Watching the whole thing unfold. All seeing, but powerless to change things.″

″That's so deep!″ Art gasped.

If I never encountered Etna I would think you're the biggest bullshitter alive, the thought crossed my mind. How Velvet could get away with saying all this was beyond me, and yet...I was a little amused. I couldn't help but smirk, just a little.

″You know, I'm glad I'm taking this trip with you guys. It's really relaxing!″ I told the others after letting out a sigh of relief. My feet kicked around a bit under my seat and hit a box. I looked down to see that it was a box of fruit snacks. Something came over me, a flurry of emotions in the air. Contentment was fine for just a moment, but this was something else altogether.

″Whoa! Art, you got fruit snacks?″ I asked, my excitement getting the better of me.

″Yeah, help yourself!″ Art encouraged, and so I opened the box and took out a small bag.

″Gee, I haven't had these since...″ I didn't finish the sentence, remembering that I was a clone and all and that my memories were not my own. ″Well, I haven't had these in forever!″ I exclaimed and grinned.

″Look! This one is in the shape of a strawberry!″ I showed Velvet, then threw it in my mouth. I chewed it a bit and it actually tasted like a strawberry in jelly candy form, or at least what I thought strawberries tasted like.

″Okay, dude. That's a little weird. They're just fruit snacks, kid,″ Velvet dismissed.

Velvet just didn't understand. Truth be told, neither did I, but it's like when there's strong emotions, it's best to ride the wave.

″HEY, MIND IF I HAVE SOME?″ A voice beside me asked.

I didn't even look over, I just smiled and passed some over.

″Sure, help yourself!″

When Blanc opened the box of fruit snacks, I felt a darkness envelop the car. We must have gone through a tunnel, except there were no tunnels. It was an open highway with little to see on either sides. But it was in the day time. The only darkness was inside the car, and the source of the darkness was emanating from this mysterious girl that appeared in the backseat next to Blanc with no explanation.

At first it was just a little weird how excited Blanc was about something that would have made up my diet on any given day. I looked over when they showed me the strawberry shaped jelly, then looked ahead. It was only when I heard the voice when I looked back again.

″HEY, MIND IF I HAVE SOME?″ The voice yelled, but in that voice you might have heard from a squad of cheerleaders at a high school football game.

I turned around and this blonde haired figure in some cheap angel costume was acting all buddy-buddy with ol' Blanc here, patting their head and grinning. She reached her hand and fished some fruit snacks, munching on them and chewing with thunderous fervor.

″THESE ARE SO GOOD! IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY! I'M SHARING FOOD WITH YOU!″ She cheered, food in her mouth, not yet swallowed.

I was just left to stare, not able to reach any other reaction.

What if I opened the car door right now? What if I jumped out, but held onto the handle? Would I enjoy the thrill, the rush? What kind of dangers could it cause? These thoughts raced with no explanation, let alone control.

She turned her head, locked eyes with me. Her eyes piercing, even if her expression should have signified some sense of calm or peace. Bright, glowing, wide, toothy grin.

Yeah, I should. I think I would like that.

I clicked and held on tight, a rush of air shot in just as I did so. Such an act was so unlike me, but I already started and something was telling me that this was what I wanted.

″Velvet! What are you doing?″ Art or Blanc yelled, but despite the difference in their voices, I couldn't make out who from who. My mind was elsewhere, wherever it was.

The hinges tore off and the door, along with me, were sent flying. Whatever came over me was starting to leave, as I tucked my legs in just before the door hit the ground. I couldn't stop what I had already done, but I could try to lessen the damage.

With each skip and bounce off the road, the metal frame of the door dented and I felt every impact. My ankles felt the scrapes against the metal sides, tearing through my flesh. Funny to think that could have been the thing to do me in. Everything I've ever dealt with and it didn't compare to something so simple as flying off with a car door.

It all came to a halt. Short rolls away from the damaged door, into the soft dirt. I was alive, but if I were to live for another day, I would definitely be feeling it the next morning. With a trembling, barely able to move, I inched myself up and saw my surrounding; the car not too far from where I had left it. No longer were we in the plains of the Nevada highway, however, and instead in a dense forest. One that I was unfamiliar with.

″Just what are you?″ I whispered, and buried my face back into the ground.

″Whoa! A real life cryptid! My life is complete now!″ I was astonished to see this, this thing, whatever it was. Well, it looked human enough. Sounded human enough, but no human just appears in the back seat of my car without my knowledge. It must be some otherworldly sorcery.

″Really? You think this is the right time?″ Blanche snapped. ″Velvet just hurtled herself out of your car! We should check on her!″

″Velvet? Don't you mean Satin?″ I puzzled over.

″Fuck! Never mind that! Just stop the damn car!″ Blanche roared. I never thought someone so easy going would be in such a rage.

I should have done it then and there, but nothing else mattered. If that made me irredeemable, so be it, but I was fixed on this specimen.

I can finally die happy, those were my thought, echoing. In response, another thought emerged.

But what death would make you happiest?

I would like to see a tree again. I would like to be surrounded by trees and meadows. Begone with the road, I want the air of pines and bark.

SYCAMORE!

Blanche's shape jumped out of the way just in time. I wished they could have stayed, shared the experience with me. My last moment was a moment of impact: my car and I meeting with a sycamore tree, head on. Just before, I thought just a little more.

This is it. I have reached euphoria.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Happiness Overload Chapter Thirteen

″Oh, come on! Even if that were true, me? Dying? I think I'd have enough sense to wear a bulletproof vest!″ I dismissed, reacting to the story Blanc just got done telling me. According to them, they read it in a place called the ″Hall of Memories.″ Probably just a weed induced hallucination.

″I don't know. It's just what I read! I think we dodged a bullet staying there, either way!″ Blanc defended, and possibly made a pun, though the irony seemed lost on them.

″Har-Har.″

″No, I'm serious! I'm sure that thing Conrad was working on would have been bad juju! That's why I dropped a can of orange soda over it the other day! He was so pissed, muttering how it would take him another week just to fix it.″

Mmm. I remembered that. Conrad was pissed. Wouldn't even look Blanc in the eye for a whole day. Then again, it wasn't all that unusual for Conrad to avoid eye contact with anyone.

″You don't know that for sure, you just read it in a book! For all you know it could have helped us!″

″...Shit. You think so? Well, either way, Conrad's fine on his own and we're already up in the air. No use going back now, right?″

I sighed. ″Yeah, I really am glad to leave that place. All I was doing was rotting away.″

As we flew through the skies, I checked on the radar to see where we were going. I hadn't picked a specific direction, but as soon as we left the pyramids, I just let it go on autopilot. Apparently we were headed back to the U.S. Couldn't say that I missed it there, but I probably had some gear stashed away in one of the major cities. As long as my ship remained undetected, it was smooth sailing.

″It's too bad the Beiges are probably still going to die,″ Blanc whined.

″You can't save everyone, kiddo,″ I reminded them.

″Why not?″

″This ain't a Marvel movie.″

″Well I'm not a big fan of DC...″

″Y'know what they say about the truth and its relative strangeness in relation to fiction.″

Blanc looked confused. I decided to lighten the mood.

″So, do you know what happened to the other you?″

Blanc shrugged. ″I don't know? Probably dead. I didn't read that far.″

I shrugged as well. ″Good. I don't know why anyone would want to read a story about us, anyway. Besides, this is the only timeline that matters.″ That's when I got to thinking. Either out of humor for what Blanc was talking about or the chance that I actually believed it to be true.

″When you were there all those days, did you ever read my memories?″

″Uh...no?″ Blanc looked away while replying.

″I know you're lying, but I really don't care. I have nothing to hide. Who am I? An open book, that's who. I'm a diary with mundane entries. That's all.″

″Uh-huh...″ Blanc muttered.

″Dear diary, today I ate a chip and took a bullet because I thought it would make me look cool. Turns out those things hurt,″ I mused.

″Okay, I get it.″

″Dear diary, today the a/c wasn't working and I decided to lay on the floor as if I would have done anything different any other day.″

″LOOK, I READ A FEW THINGS FROM YOUR PERSPECTIVE, BUT I STILL KNOW VERY LITTLE ABOUT YOU! YOU HAPPY?″ Blanc screamed. I was taken aback.

I stood up and pat Blanc on the back.

″Now, now, not everyone can be as cool as me. In fact, neither can I, from the way you described me in that story of yours.″

Blanc started to tear up. ″Sorry I yelled. I don't like to raise my voice.″

″Yeah, neither do I, but sometimes you gotta. Y'know? You just gotta.″

I thought I had said something confident for once. Maybe a sliver of a smile slithered on, even for just a second. While I was lost in thought and my brief moment of confidence, Blanc walked off and sat down on one of the bunk beds, swinging their legs back and forth.

″So,″ they mused. ″What's the plan?″

″Well, glad you asked!″ I announced, despite the fact that I wasn't glad and I was terrified because I had no actual plan. The short pause was probably awkward enough to feel ten times longer than it really was. If Blanc wasn't about to ask ″well...?″ then they were just being polite, and in that case, kudos.

I crossed my arms. ″Honestly, I'd like to know if there was any truth to all those things Conrad would talk about. If The Flashbulb is some huge organization that controls all the world's government, or something like that, then they're responsible for the reason I'm on the run today.″

″So you want to make them pay? Take them down, give them a healthy dose of revenge?″ Blanc asked.

″Maybe. I'd be a bloody fool if I thought that'd rid me of my problems, though. No, even if I can't do much, I want to find out what I can about them. See firsthand what they have and what they're capable of.″

″Are you suggesting...?″

″Yes. I want to reach their headquarters.″

Blanc smiled. ″Sounds good to me! I'm also curious about some things. Whatever happens, I'm here with ya, whether we live or die.″

″That's reassuring. I can use you as a human shield if the going gets rough.″

Blanc gave a weak laugh. ″It's so good to know you have an idea. You didn't seem so sure just a bit ago.″

I didn't have the heart to say I still wasn't sure and the plan I announced just seemed like the best course of action without a whole lot of thought. ″I had to think it over, but now that it's settled, that's what we're gonna do.″

There was just one problem. We stared at each other. We both knew what that problem was.

″How do we get there?″ We both said at once.

″Well, maybe my other me will send me the coordinates and...″ they paused. ″...No, that wouldn't work. I'm pretty sure they couldn't really do that,″ Blanc concluded while shaking their head. ″It's the thought that counts, right?″

I smiled, even if what I was going to say next was anything but cheery. ″Yeah, it is. In retrospect, it was a lost cause. As I said, I've got no clue what I'm doing.″

I plopped myself by Blanc and let out a deep sigh.

″Well, my idea was to reach their base, foil their operations, and get revenge. Those kind of plots don't really work out most of the time, though, do they? Life isn't Lethal Weapon. Acts of vengeance are just begging to go wrong.″

Blanc said nothing, only nodding.

″Whatever we do, will any of it matter?″

I couldn't understand why I was the one feeling so childish when Blanc was younger than me and so much more naive about the world.

″Maybe. Maybe not,″ Blanc grinned and shrugged.

I elbowed them.

″How can you keep that attitude at a time like this?″

Blanc looked up, index finger on their chin, shallow or deep in contemplation.

″Whether or not what I read was true, in an alternate universe, maybe you died, but maybe that you helped this you live. Who's to say whether that was the good universe, bad one, or ugly one? The trouble with concepts like time travel and multiverse theory or anything else of the sort is that there is no good or bad version. Maybe a different version of yourself had a better life and you worked in an office or a factory or something. Does that mean the world is a better place because of it? Or a worse place? The universe we have, right here and now, that's the one we're living in.″

I blinked. Blanc exhaled. ″That was a mouthful!″ They exclaimed.

″So what was the point of all that?″ I groaned.

″What's the point of any of this?″

I elbowed them again.

″Seriously. What should I do? I don't want to keep running away or hiding, but can I do anything? Should I do anything?″

″Which would make you happier?″

Without even thinking, I answered.

″Let's find those Fleshlight fuckers!″

″Um, I think you mean Flashbulb?″

I chuckled. ″Perhaps, but it sounded better in my head.″

The ship drifted through the air, moving forward, but no set destination. The two of us laid back on the bunk.

″Do you think in another universe, I have a wife and the two of us dismantle evil organizations?″ I asked with a hint of laughter.

″I don't know. Think in another universe I'm not a clone and I have a better grasp of my identity?″

We both laughed. ″If there's so many versions of us, we may as well all be clones.″

Just as I started to relax, a sputtering sound could be heard from below.

″The fuck?″ I shot up, bonking my head on the metal frame. I got up, rubbed my head, and looked down below.

″What's wrong?″ Blanc sat up, concerned. ″Is someone shooting at us?″

I shook my head. ″No...we're low on fuel. We won't be going anywhere until I can get more.″

″So what's going to happen? Are we going to crash? Is this the end of our journey?″

″Don't be so dramatic! This is an advanced aircraft! It's just going to descend wherever we are. We just won't be able to move again for quite some time.″

Upon landing, I pressed the button to open the door and let the ramp down. Blanc and I made our way out and stretched our arms and legs, blinded by the light from the sky that we were previously a part of. The air was arid, a crisp heat making its way through me. For a moment I wondered if I was in a Mad Max film.

″Great. Leave one desert and yet here we are in another one,″ I complained.

″Any idea where we're at?″ Blanc looked around, wondering. The only obvious answer was somewhere dry.

″Hold on,″ I told them, then ran back into my ship.

″Holy shit!″ I yelled. ″Yes!″

I ran back out, excitement overwhelming me.

″Well?″

″My ship says we've landed in southern Nevada.″

″Oh, huh. Back in the states, then?″

Blanc didn't seem as excited as I was. They missed the point.

″Say, wanna hitch a ride?″

Their eyes widened. ″What? Really?″

Yeah, I mean, sure? Why not? I think we're pretty close to the highway.″

Turns out we weren't very close at all. We hunched over as we walked, dragging our feet against the soft dirt. The sun served to mock us and our weary heads. Our mouths, begging us to take in some liquids, despite our brains knowing that we had none. It must have been hours before we even saw a road, the fact that we had no sense of direction not helping our case. When we reached the side of the road, Blanc fell over. On the other hand, I was ecstatic.

″Ready to visit Area 51?″ I egged.

″What? Isn't that place heavily guarded? Don't they shoot anyone on sight?″ Blanc wheezed, having trouble even forming words.

″Relax. If anyone who knows me sees us, they'll shoot me on sight long before we get there!″

I stuck my thumb out in front of me, ready for whoever may pick us up.

″Euphoria!″ I called down from the balcony.

Some crew members looked up, murmured amongst themselves, then walked away. I didn't care if they reported me. If I could find Euphoria in all this mess, it would have been worth it.

″The hell are you doing?″ Conrad snapped. I ignored him.

″Euphoria! Euphoria!″ I cupped my hands, and called out.

″You can't just wander around wherever you please causing trouble! There are certain places you can and cannot go, even if people were to believe you were a member!″

″Euphoria!″ That Blanc called out, as if yelling an emotion meant anything. We were standing on a bridge over one of many lobbies in this facility.

″The hell are you doing?″ I snapped.

Blanc ignored me, which only served to further incense me. An utter disregard for the order of things. Not even that. An utter disregard for their own safety. Instead of heeding my words, they continued yelling out that word, as if it served some kind of meaning.

Oh, but don't you know? Ecstasy teased. She knew something I didn't. I hated that.

″You can't just wander around wherever you please causing trouble! There are certain places you can and cannot go, even if people were to believe you were a member!″ I scolded. For a moment, Blanc stopped, and looked at me.

″I thought it would be worth a shot, y'know? Etna called Euphoria 'Euphemism' and even if that name was a lie, I thought The Flashbulb would know something about her.″

I still didn't have a clue what Blanc was talking about.

Oh, but I do. Don't you remember watching those camera feeds when Velvet hacked in? That image of that girl next to Blanc?

I must not have remembered very well. If it was an important detail, it would be a great reason to hate myself for overlooking it.

″Look,″ I leveled. ″Information between other departments are kept secret from each other. The average Flashbulb member isn't going to know what you're talking about, even if Etna does.″

Blanc snapped their fingers, and also seemed to snap back to their senses. ″You're right! I forgot all about that! I need to find the department she works for!″

I groaned.

Why are we doing this? I thought.

Don't you love the idea of playing with your food?

I'm not like you. I let you in to stay alive a little longer, nothing more.

″If you want to find the Morale Department, follow me,″ I pointed behind me.

″Thanks! Gee, you're really on my side after all!″

I shook my head. ″This is more for my benefit than yours.″ As familiar as this place was, it was becoming my hell.

Luck was finally on our side when a green Volkswagen pulled over and stopped just a few feet ahead of us. I lifted my head up, waiting for someone to poke their head out of the car, ask us where we're headed. Or rather, for a gun to poke out, pointing toward us and shooting us both. Either scenario seemed plausible, but both optimism and dread were drowned out by Velvet jumping for joy just behind me.

″Look at that! How convenient!″ She cheered. It almost reminded me of a certain someone, or something. I shook my head. ″Right when things get to a standstill, life has a way of moving us forward. Fancy that, huh?″ She continued.

She walked up to the car and peered inside. I half-expected some kind of blast to occur, my mind recalling what I read about our alternate selves. Instead Velvet mumbled something and turned back to me.

″Got some bad news for ya, kid,″ she announced.

I gulped.

″I call shotgun.″

Whether she could read my thoughts or not, for a second there I thought I saw a sly smile creep on her face. I was ready to bang my head against the soft dirt.

″Yeah, this dude's offering to give us a ride, but you're going to have to sit in the back,″ she continued.

Lamest plot twist ever, I wanted to say, but then I knew she would accuse me of stealing her line.

Despite whatever dangers may lurk in a stranger's car, I opened the door to the back seat and hopped in.

″So you into cryptids, too?″ The inhabitant of the driver's seat boomed. They turned around, a muscled and chubby figure with brown, curly hair and a ponytail.

″Uh...″ I wasn't sure how to answer.

″Y'know, cryptozoology?″

I was aware of the term. I've seen a few episodes of Unsolved Mysteries when I was a kid. I've been on the stranger parts of YouTube before. Still wasn't sure what that had to do with me, though.

″Oh, c'mon! Bigfoot? Mothman? Flying Spaghetti Monster? Purple People Eater?″

″I mean, I might have seen a ghost once? I've sure had some fucked up dreams,″ I admitted.

″Oh yeah! That's what I'm talking about! A true believer!″

Actually, when I thought about it, I doubt I've ever seen a ghost. Closest I may have come was when I encountered the previous me.

I fidgeted a bit with my fingers, digging my nails into the back of each hand. Our driver seemed friendly enough, but it was putting me off guard.

″Your friend tells me you two are headed to Groom Lake to do some sightseeing! Just so happens that's where I'm headed too! I wanna take as many pictures as I can!″ Our host beamed.

″That's right,″ Velvet replied. ″I've always told Blanche how this has been a dream of mine! I'd say 'before I die, I want to break into Area 51'. Well now I can!″

Blanche? Is that what she was calling me? Why was it so bad to say my name? Not that I minded all that much. It had a nice ring to it.

″You aren't really going to break in, though, are you?″

″No, not at all! That would be illegal! Illegal things aren't good!″ Velvet backpedaled, doing a bit of damage control.

″Amen! It's not like our government has anything to hide! They've already made our lives better in just the past year alone. It's just a tourist attraction, a way to entertain us!″

Velvet gave me a glance, as if to say, ″things have really changed since we've been holed up in Egypt, haven't they?″

All I could do was nod. I didn't know if my nod said anything other than ″I agree.″

″Well, my name's Art! I like to travel coast to coast in search of cryptids! I'm addicted! I could eat that shit up all day!″

″I'm Satin,″ Velvet introduced herself. What wasn't surprising was that she would use a fake name, but that she would use a name that didn't begin with the letter 'V'. ″And as you may have heard, that's Blanche.″

″Uh, hi,″ I waved.

″Don't mind Blanche. They're just a li'l shy,″ Velvet explained.

″No problem! Been there, done that! Now buckle up, this is going to be a long ride!″

My heart and my mind were still giving off warning signs. It didn't feel like me to be this way, but for one reason or another I was more comfortable with the Beiges than I was in a car with another human.

″So why do you think's in Area 51?″ Velvet asked.

″Oh, probably nothing. But it gets people interested. Like a forbidden fruit. Our government wants us to be happy, and I think a place like this serves its purpose. What about you?″

″Same,″ Velvet shrugged. ″But do you really believe that? Sounds more like a distraction than anything. I bet they really ARE hiding something. If not in there, then somewhere else.″

What are you doing? Are you trying to see just what you can get away with?

Art chuckled. ″I used to think the same thing, believe it or not! But over the years things have really gotten better. Ever since the ETNAvators, though, I no longer have my doubts! Even if they were doing something awful, it's like, who cares? Everyone's living a wonderful life! I must have teleported with it over a thousand times and each time I feel just a little bit better! I don't even know why I drive anymore! It may just be because I like the feeling of seeing where I'm traveling, y'know?″

I nodded. My past self only boarded it once, at least as far as I knew, but I already knew about the effects. Art must have been a very degraded clone.

″I gotta say, they could make me a slave for all I care and I'd still be in total bliss!″

I shuddered. Velvet was still leaning over, giving off that eerie grin, probably seeing just how much she could rock the boat.

″ETNA—what?″

″Where we're from, they're just called elevators,″ I explained, trying to ease any suspicion.

″Named after the ETNA Corporation, y'know? One of the biggest corporations in the world? Wow. I never thought I'd be explaining this to someone.″

″Yeah, seriously. Everyone knows that! I don't even know why I asked,″ Velvet brushed aside.

″You're silly, Satin,″ Art followed suit, not seeming to mind.

I sighed. I guess we didn't have anything to worry about after all.

″Though it does make you wonder, huh? The CEO's never had a public appearance. Could just be that she's shy or too busy, but makes you wonder if she even exists.″

″I've seen her! She tried to kill me!″ I blurted out. Art slammed on the brakes, screeching the car to a halt and lunging me forward. He turned around and stared at me.

″You two aren't normal people, are you?″ He asked, his eyes suggesting a suspicion I was hoping to avoid.

I hummed a tune, none in particular.

″Ecstasy says what you're humming makes her want to fuck.″

Conrad was walking in front, guiding me to the Morale Department.

″She wanted me to relay that message to you,″ he added.

″She's disgusting!″ I laughed, then went back to humming.

″Ugh! Could you just stop? There's so much going on in my head right now! Even if I thought well of you, I'd still be pissed off!″

″Sounds like a personal problem,″ I replied with a shrug.

″Are you doing this just to antagonize me?″

″We're friends, aren't we? That's what we do. We annoy each other!″

″We were never...″ he grumbled.

″Maybe so, but we're not antagonists. Whether you realize it or not, we have the same goal.″

That struck me. I finally realized what Blanc was setting out to do.

Without a second thought, I burst into laughter.

″You shouldn't have said anything! But you just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you? You really are the biggest idiot!″ A voice erupted from my mouth. ″Do you really think you'll accomplish any of that and live?″ Now that I knew, I couldn't stop myself. Or, I couldn't stop what was happening.

Black masses were forming out from my back, and a single word repeated at a mile a minute: kill.

″Now is the end for you, kid!″

Just as the shadows were about to shoot forth, pierce through and tear every piece of their skin, Blanc opened their mouth, not seeming to be fazed in the slightest.

″Oh look, we're here,″ I pointed out. We almost walked past it. While Conrad was having his monologue fit, probably under the influence of Ecstasy, I happened to notice the plaque on the door.

Conrad let out a deep sigh.

″Thanks for navigating me here! I couldn't have done it without you!″ I put my hand on the door, about to push it open.

″What? You can't just waltz right in! Do you really think they'll let you get away with that?″

″Oh, you! Went from wanting to kill me to worrying about my safety. You're in conflict with yourself. That's not healthy.″

I pushed open the door. I was met with a blue fluorescent lighting and the smell of a fresh paint. It was both fresh, nostalgic, and suffocating. Truly, a laboratory. Off in the distance was a tall lady in a lab coat, someone I was all too familiar with. Only instead of the long, silver hair, she had none.

″Hey there, Etna!″ I called out, waving my hand in frantic motions.

Rather than greet me with a hello back, she pulled out a pistol.

″I saw you on the cameras coming in. You're not someone I recognize. Who are you? What are you doing here?″

″I'm Dr. David Blaine of the Waste Management Department! I was just here to, uh, compare notes?″ I was struggling to find the words. Confronted with a gun wasn't such a confidence boost.

″I've checked the registry. There is no such person.″ She fired, the shot piercing through the air. I counted my lucky stars that it had missed. I ducked underneath a desk.

″No, Etna! Bad Etna!″ I yelled.

″I do not appreciate being patronized like this! You are trespassing! I have every right to shoot!″

Damn. She's right, but that doesn't mean I want to die here.

″Let's just talk this out! I'm here to save you!″

″Save me?″ She shot again. She wasn't sparing a single bullet. If she could hit me, she would.

Before I could answer her, which I wasn't even sure if she wanted me to, I heard the yelp from behind me. I turned around to see Conrad, against the wall, shot.

″The hell? You shot Conrad!″ I got up, pointed to the lifeless figure that had gotten me so far. ″All I wanted to do was tell you that Dr. Laharl and Dr. Vyers have plans to kill you and use your consciousness to make you an artificial intelligence!″

She lowered her weapon. ″...What?″

″I can't quite explain it, but I'm from the future! I know what happens to you!″

I heard a faint cough from Conrad. I didn't realize that he would still be alive, but I guess it would have taken more than one bullet to do him in.

She didn't look as angry as she did. In fact, she cracked a smile.

″I see. So that's what you were getting at,″ she observed. Hair appeared back on her head. The same long, silver hair. ″You thought this was the past, wasn't it? That once you got here, you could make things right? Be a hero? Save me?″ Her words, while fluttering with cheer, sounded so hollow.

I didn't have a response. I couldn't even grasp what was going on.

″You think we weren't aware of the Hall of Memories? That because you saw my memories, you could make things better, turn everything around? How noble of you.″

From behind me I heard laughter. First faint, then a storm. It wasn't Conrad's voice, but Ecstasy's. If the blood from Conrad's mouth didn't give it away, the tone of voice did.

″Here's the thing: it is all too easy to make false memories. Especially if you're a program, like me.″

″So you knew who I was the whole time?″ I mustered up my voice, enough to ask the question.

″From the very start, I led you here so I could see the look of despair on your face. To give you the idea that you could actually make a difference.″

″So all this...?″

″Just as it's always been,″ she soothed.

I was almost ready to accept death, but then, I wouldn't yet be happy.

I was so dead. We were so dead.

″Oh, don't pay Blanche any mind!″ Velvet joked, keeping her cool much more than I could.

Art didn't look convinced. He wouldn't let go of the gaze he held on me.

″Yeah!″ I managed to say. ″I think it was some dream I had, actually. Sometimes it's hard to tell those things from reality!″

His eyes lit up.

″You don't say...do you think maybe you're, like, psychic?″

I laughed at the notion.

Well, I have seen people's thoughts, in a sense, but it wasn't an innate ability of mine or anything, I thought of saying. Instead, I said: ″Who knows?″

″Still, in your dream, she tried to kill you? Why?″

Because I shouldn't exist. ″Because I stumbled into her lair.″

″Well, interesting dream, nonetheless. What about you, Satin? Anything interesting about you?″

″You know the group 'Majestic'?″ She asked.

He gasped. ″You mean the group of scientists that were tasked with recovering alien spacecrafts?″

″Yeah, well, I've nothing to do with that.″

″Oh. That's a bummer. So you guys are just normal tourists after all?″

″Whoa, dude! Don't get me wrong! We're not evil or anything, but we're not normal, either! In fact, we're 'supernormal'!″

″Don't you mean paranormal?″ I corrected Velvet.

″Shut up, Blanche, or I'll feed you to a jackalope!″

Art kept turning his head back and forth.

″Okay, look, if you guys are making fun of me, I swear, I will kick you guys out of my car and you'll have to walk!″

After a moment of silence, Velvet spoke up.

″Sorry if it came across that way, Artie. We're serious, though. In fact, we're 'paraserious'!″

″Okay! That was actually pretty funny!″ Art burst out laughing. He started the car back up and we were back on the open road. I pressed my head against the window, fogging it up, and wishing I could have been as suave as Velvet was. Someone who could have gotten out of situations with words alone. Art continued talking on and on about the various cryptids he loved reading about. Velvet was passed out in her seat. Truth be told, I may have been starting to warm up to Art. He may have been a little obsessed, but otherwise harmless.

″Say, I think I might know a cryptid you don't know of,″ I opened up with, hoping to entertain him.

″Oh? Try me.″

″Let's say there's this creature out in space that has landed on Earth. We don't know how, but it has. It can take the form of anything, anything at all, and it has the ability to bend reality. Alter whatever whatever happens to be in its vicinity until it crumbles in a self-destructive bliss. Then it moves on, whether or not aware of what it's done. Across the universe, civilizations have feared it, others have built cults around it.″

″Dude. Already know that one,″ he dismissed.

″What?!″

″Yeah, Xenu.″

I hung my head. I was trying to be as vague as possible about my personal issues, but I guess that might have been a little too vague.

″Well, maybe it goes by other names, too?″ I suggested.

Art shrugged.

″Sure, but I'm not really interested. The cult that worships Xenu is one of those subjects I just don't touch.″

I groaned and pressed my cheek once more against the car window. It was futile. I was the only one who knew of Euphoria's existence. Others may have seen her, and there was the Beige, at least until Conrad killed them all, if he still planned on doing that, but I was the only one who really got to know her. But then again, did I ever really know her at all?

As I contemplated the being I named Euphy, Velvet woke up and stretched out of her seat.

″We there yet?″ She yawned.

″Nah. Still got another few hours to go,″ Art replied.

″Great. Just great,″ she complained, then turned to me. ″Say, Blanche, wanna talk about some of the dreams we've had? It'll help pass the time.″

″Sure,″ I shrugged. I was bored as it was, and Art was probably tired of hearing the sound of his own voice.

So we began, telling stories to each other along the Nevada desert highway.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Happiness Overload Chapter Twelve

I love my sister, I really do. But sometimes she can be a nuisance.

″Polo!″ She whined whilst hopping about in her bedroom. I could hear the whining from clear across the hall. The vibrations in the building could be felt from across the hall as well. She had such mighty hops. I rushed to her aid. Along the way I thought of birds. I was so glad to not be an eagle. My sister might be poison dart. Her skin has been known to give me rashes, but I would risk a million rashes if it meant hugging her a million times.

The door, neither wooden nor metal, but some kind of fiber that might have been edible, slammed open. Some of the hinges seemed to be coming loose. It might have been me who slammed the door.

″Polo!″ She was rolling around now. There was a certain fury to her voice that made me unsure how to approach her. Siblings, as we all know, can be difficult to read sometimes. What they want, what they don't want.

″What's all the commotion, dear sister?″ She jolted up and stopped moving save for her bulging eyes which scanned her surroundings. She must have seen my presence and went back to pouting.

″Polo! Polo!″ She pouted and pointed at her wall.

There it was: a poster of a character from an anime.

″Now, now, dear sister! You can't be Tsuyu!″

My sister sunk to the floor. It looked like she was going to cry. I don't think she had tear ducts, though.

″You don't have the right hairstyle!″ I tried to console her. I think I did a good job. It was really interesting how amphibian eggs tend to lay near water in jelly sacs. Tadpoles are especially adorable. Earth is filled with many wonderful things.

″Polo! Polo! Polo! Polo!″ She croaked. I hate it when my sister and I argue. I love her so, but she can be so damn stubborn.

″No, you can't date Tsuyu, either! She's not real!″

My sister leaped at me. With her webbed hands balled into a webbed fist, she pounded away at my chest. None of it hurt or even tickled, but it was nice to know how much she cared.

″Now, now. There's plenty of gay frogs in the pond!″ I hummed the words to a jazzy tune. That seemed to calm her down just a little. But not enough, for she hopped over to her bed and perched, arms folded and chin stretched, but not another word out of her.

I sighed. ″Looks like I need to leave you be for now, huh, little Polo?″

There were other matters to attend to, anyhow. Disciplinary measures had to be made. No one was allowed to make my sister sad. Not even me. I remember once when I kept a jar of flies high up on a shelf. She had already eaten but she must have still been hungry, for she stretched her tongue up high and grabbed the jar with it. But her grip wasn't strong enough and the jar broke, letting many flies free. My arms were folded, my eyes were squinted, and I was about ready to scold her. She must have heard the yelling in her head before I even had a chance to do any, for she let out a little chirp and I let loose my folded arms and gave her a hug instead. I developed burns across my arms, but I knew that the right decision had been made.

″Hey! You've corrupted my sister with your sinful images!″ I chastised the pariah sitting at the computer next to many a gay figures. This pariah was a guest in our home, a major asset or possible ambassador. After being sent to the chopping block one too many times, this pariah took the shape of a human. The same shape of a human that must have been taken over a hundred times already. They weren't an amphibian.

″The fuck you talking about?″ Growled our guest. Quite the rude one, but I was used to our guest being a rude one. I was used to this rude guest before they became 'this rude guest'. Before it was more 'this rude acquaintance'.

″I know you watch anime when you should be uncovering secret documents related to The Flashbulb!″ I scolded.

″So? These things take time. Conrad understood that. Why can't you?″

″Oh, my dear Kelly Roger. I understand it quite well. I also understand that there are far better uses of your time. I see everything you see, and by extension, my sister sees everything you see.″

″So when I watch porn...″ Kelly Roger, this thing identified as, started off. I knew it was more of an insinuation, a question that suggested an answer already known, but I knew better than to humor a humorless chap.

″The clouds are shifting this afternoon,″ I observed.

″Marco, we're indoors!″ Kelly Roger's fingers snapped. Reality was something I was seeped in and yet I was supposed to believe I ever left.

″Look, because of your sinful images, my sister has a poster of a character named 'Tsuyu' and wants to be just like her. Or in a relationship with her. It's hard to tell with siblings, you know?″

Kelly Roger, that smarmy bastard, shrugged.

″No. I don't know.″

This brat was a wonderful not-froggy thing, but I missed the days when we would talk about making this dream of ours a reality – this dream of a bright, froggy future, where everyone could live real, meaningful, happy lives.

Actually, I think those days was just yesterday. In fact, I think yesterday was the first day. Or the  only day. Unless you count that day three years ago. It's hard to keep track of time. The past is such a stingy thing; best left ignored, save for the small details.

″I was thinking of getting out of here for good!″ Velvet grinned, something uncharacteristic of her. ″We'll even leave Conrad behind!″

Now that was odd. Why would Velvet want to leave Conrad behind? Maybe she knew something I didn't, but from what I could tell, she always seemed to regard Conrad as the man with the plans. Even still, I decided to play along. I gave off a smirk.

″It's about time. I've been planning to do the exact same thing for a while, but I don't know a damn thing on how to pilot your ship.″

Velvet tilted her head, puzzled by my reply. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I was just playing along and had no actual plan of my own. If I could go for a ride with Velvet, and not just into the nearest Egyptian city, that would have been awesome. It might have been a real adventure that I was lacking these past three years.

″Excellent!″

We were walking toward the large doors where Velvet's ship resided. Soon enough, we would board it and take off into who knows where? Maybe she actually had a plan and the next chapter in my life would begin. I hoped so, but just as we reached the doors, Velvet stopped dead in her tracks.

″Do you feel that?″ She asked. Her voice was hushed, almost like she thought someone was watching or listening in. It wasn't the same grin, the same carefree attitude she was displaying just a minute ago.

″Is someone invisible touching you?″ I asked in reply. That was a stupid thing to ask, and I wasn't sure whether I asked it in earnest or trying to ease the tension that she must have been feeling.

She shook her head. ″That might be more comfortable than...″

″Than what?″ But I shouldn't have even bothered asking. I felt it too.

″This is bad. We should have never talked about leaving for good!″

″Hey, you're the one who brought it up!″ I retorted. She didn't have a comeback. She looked more concerned than anything. She raced back to where the Beiges were. I tried to follow suit, but found it hard to keep up with her.

How is it that you're in better shape than me when you're the one who eats mostly junk food? I thought while going as quick as my feet would carry me.

The further I walked toward the living room where Velvet probably was at, the stuffier the air grew. Something was off, that I knew for sure. But what...?

My arms rubbed against each other, moisture catching onto each hand. It was a sort of compulsive, absentminded movement, but I realized, still walking, what I was feeling.

Sweat.

Once I reached the living room, where the Beiges leaned back in their chairs, the smell hit me: musty, dank, and not quite marijuana.

″It's suffocating...″ was the murmur I heard from Velvet before I noticed her shape at the corner of the room, she herself peering out into the many halls.

″It's like a hotbox in here,″ I remarked, although my breath short.

Gusts of hot air blew forth and I started to gag. I took small strides toward Velvet, muscling through the weight of the heat.

I feel like a boiled frog, I thought.

″Do you ever stop cracking jokes?″ She chided. I felt the sting of her comment, but tried to brush it off, pointing to the Beiges sitting down.

″They're just faded, right?″

She shook her head. Her head seemed to bob back and forth. She wasn't doing too well either, but it was like I was seeing a portion of her true colors.

″I checked. No heartbeat, kiddo.″

She took weary steps forward into one of the halls. Again, I followed behind.

″So they're dead? But why?″

She was hunched over. She didn't quite shrug, but the gesture she made had the same effect. She lifted her hand up and made little flitting movements with it.

″Their air conditioner unit. It's blowing hot air. It's suffocating...″ she groaned.

″I don't get it. How were they able to survive in here for thousands of years without an a/c but it was an a/c that killed them?″ I pondered.

″Don't know. Not important now.″

″What is important? Do you even know where you're going?″ I was concerned for Velvet. Concerned for myself. The air, whether it be the heat or some other gut feeling, reeked of dread.

″I don't know yet, but I will. All I know is that their deaths weren't an accident.″

She swayed, her movements suggested that she was trying to take strides, but couldn't. Only a few paces forward and we were both met by another gust, this time of cool air. It sent us back and I fell on my back. She held her arms over her head. In that moment she looked like a true hero, shining bright. Meanwhile, my vision was too blurry, me too dizzy, to take it all in.

She glanced back at me. ″I'm all right, kiddo! I'm stronger than I look!″

I believed her, until she wobbled to and fro and collapsed.

We were both on the floor, a cool breeze blowing away our running sweats.

″Look at the sorry states we're in,″ I observed. ″How pathetic.″

She raised a finger, and after drawing labored breaths, made an observation of her own.

″It's to be expected...an intense heat met by a sudden chill...not a good feeling.″

″So this is it?″ I lifted my head to meet Velvet. ″We're going to die?″

″It was not planned that way. The Beige were the target,″ replied someone. I thought it was Velvet at first, but the voice didn't quite match. This voice was huskier, but also...tinny? There was a mechanic feeling in her voice. Not just that, it was too familiar...

I struggled up and I think Velvet did the same. She let out a yelp, as did I.

Etna, the hologram AI, in the pyramid with us, walked through the nearby wall. Her empty eyes peered down at Velvet and I.

″Why are you here?″ I growled.

She studied her hand and flexed her fingers about, ignoring my question.

″It seems there is only a certain radius in which I can move around. What electronics I am able to utilize is dependent on said radius.″

″Hey!″ I barked. ″I asked you a question!″

She shot a glance at me. ″Ask your friend Conrad.″

Etna started walking away, but followed up her statement with one more before we lost sight of her:

″You two are free to leave.″

″What?!″ I shouted. ″Didn't you want to kill me the last time we met?″

She chuckled a laughter devoid of humor. ″Three years have passed. I've moved on. The world has moved on.″

She disappeared from view. Whatever anger I may have had was cut short. What I really felt was confusion. Why was she here? How was she here? And now of all times?

″She said to ask Conrad!″ I blurted out, the lightbulb over my head shining fluorescent.

″Yeah, I was right there, too,″ Velvet replied, not at all impressed with my revelation. She picked herself up, still looking woozy. ″That was the artificial intelligence that killed the previous you, by the way,″ she added.

″Yeah, I saw,″ I replied. Twice.

″Condolences,″ she said in a way that seemed devoid of care, but I knew better.

″So, we getting back on the ship? She gave us a chance to leave, after all,″ I asked.

Velvet shook her head. ″Hell no! I'm going to find Conrad and sort this shit out!″

″Where will you find him? From what I can remember, she needs a rather large computer to project her image.″

″Yeah, I know exactly where to find him.″

″Well, even if you do, it seems a bit...dangerous?″

She started flexing her arms. ″Dude, I eat Cheetos. I live dangerously.″

We both paused. She hung her head. ″Sorry, that line was cheesy.″

There was no further comment that could be made, so I turned in the other direction.

″Where are you going?″ She asked. ″You making a run for it? You already admitted you don't know how to pilot my ship.″

″I just gotta take care of something. I'll be right back.″

″Take care of something? At a time like this?″ She sounded baffled.

″I'll just be a few minutes,″ I reassured. ″I'll meet back with you.″

I walked away, but as I did so, I heard her yell.

″Yeah! Good luck with that! These hallways alone are 5 and a half minutes long!″

Gee, did you take the time to count?

Time. Time was definitely an issue. I didn't know how well Etna could be trusted. She was a bullshitter of the highest caliber. I, being a bullshitter as well, could see past any of the bluffs she may have made and could avoid certain death if I played my cards right, but I didn't know how well Velvet would fare. If at all possible, I would have liked for both Velvet and I to make it out of this alive, but I didn't trust Etna to keep her word and leave us alone.

As I found that door I had visited so many times before, I turned back and saw the dead Beiges.

″I'm sorry, guys...″ I whispered. They taught me to weave baskets, to make my own shirts out of hemp. I was forever in their debt. Etna wiped them all out, silently, when they were at their most high, and for what? What ever reason she had, I couldn't fathom, but it was unforgivable. ″I promise I'll make it right.″

While running down the stairway, it finally clicked: I knew where Conrad was too. It was so obvious, why didn't I figure it out as soon as Velvet did? This was good. It meant there was something I could do.

Once I passed through the door and into the Hall of Memories, I looked around. I needed some place to put a note, somewhere where I could find it.

I found one of the books I read about some old man who thinks a lot about fake cheese. It didn't seem important, and there was enough of a blank space for me to write on the bottom of it, so I ripped out the page and folded it. I reached into my pocket for a pen, only I didn't have one. That's when I realized something else, anyway: my plan wouldn't have worked.

I kicked one of the shelves. I paced around, not knowing what else to do. We were really doomed, weren't we?

I couldn't write a note to my past self because this is the future. I could tear out every page in every memory and it would have no effect in the past. What's done was done. All I could do was try to get out of here with Velvet.

″Damn it! If only I could go further back into the past, end up here, write the note I was going to write, then go back to the future!″ I cursed. Why I had to be such an idiot in such a dire situation I didn't know, but it was something I would have to take to the grave with me.

″Spill orange juice on whatever it is Conrad's been working on in that guest room,″ was what I meant to write, but it would have done me no good.

I raced back up the stairs and out the door. I didn't even bother closing it. Once more, I saw the dead Beiges lounging.

″I'm sorry,″ I once again said. ″I don't think I can make this right, but I swear I'll make this less wrong, somehow.″

In the hallway I found the darkened room where Conrad built the computer allowing Etna to roam free. I stepped inside, tossing aside any warning signs, any caution that may have been thrown my way.

″Conrad? Velvet?″ I called, mouth cupped, and in such a hushed voice as to not attract too much attention. No answer. Maybe I wasn't loud enough. Etna didn't seem concerned about me being alive. I supposed there was no harm in being a tiny bit louder.

″Oh my god!″ I heard a yell from upstairs right as I was about to cup my hands to my mouth. Out of the possible candidates, Velvet seemed the likely suspect to be the owner of said yell. Was she in danger? Was she in distress?

What do you think, moron? My thought argued with me.

Good point. I should run up there and help her out, I agreed.

I took the stride to run upstairs, but I fell; tripped over a thick cable on the floor. Connected to a power outlet on the wall, or some source of electricity. While on the floor, a piercing sound shot through. 'Shot' being an appropriate word: the unmistakable sound of gunfire.

Shit. Fuck. Fuckshit. Shitfuck, were my thoughts. Juvenile as they may have been, this was a point of duress and could anyone really blame me?

I picked myself up off my feet and ran out the room, not bothering to curse myself over the lack of useful findings in that dark palace that Conrad called his home and instead cursing myself that Velvet may be seriously hurt. Up the stairs, my sprints were met with a series of trips, internal profanities (none of which were creative), and picking myself back up only to go back to step one.

Quick turn of the head. Nothing around. Silence. I located the next flight of stairs and ran once more. It wasn't until I was at the tip of the pyramid where I arrived at the scene.

Just one room: Velvet in front of me, unharmed, holding a gun of her own. Conrad, across the room, also holding a gun. How either of them came into possession was beyond me. I would have tapped on Velvet's shoulder, asked her, but it seemed she was a little tense at the moment.

In the middle of the room lie the body of a Beige, lifeless and faded.

″I can't believe you killed Tim! You bastard!″ I shouted. I never interacted with Tim, but as the only Beige with a name, it was hard to not know who Tim was. Everyone always said that Tim resided at the very top and didn't do anything. Well, that was true more than ever.

″Now you know why I said 'oh my god'!″ Velvet turned around and replied.

″Man, I'm glad you're okay,″ I told her as I let out a sigh of relief.

″You know me,″ she winked. I didn't really, but I think that was the point; I knew as much as she wanted me to know.

″It's not what it looks like!″ Conrad went on the defense, hands shaking on the gun. ″The Beige are a threat that must be eliminated!″

″A threat to who? You? The Flashbulb? Us?″ I stepped forward, feeling bold enough to interject.

″You guys weren't even supposed to be here!″ He protested, and at the same time, ignored my question. ″I let you guys leave so you would be safe!″

I turned back to Velvet. Sure, he could have taken that time to shoot me, but it's not like I had anything to defend myself from a gun anyway. Velvet shrugged, letting slip an ″oops″ smile.

″Well, maybe we'll just leave now, right Velvet?″

″Fuck that noise!″ Velvet roared. ″I ain't leavin' 'til we get some answers! First off: really? You in The Flashbulb? That's, like, the lamest plot twist ever!″

″I have my reasons,″ Conrad stated.

Velvet shot the floor next to where he stood. He jumped back, letting out a yelp.

″That's not gonna do.″

″Fine,″ he growled. ″What do you want to know?″

I raised my hand. Both Velvet and Conrad looked at me, annoyed. Velvet, in particular, gave me the look of ″what do you think you're doing interrupting me?″ or maybe it was the look of ″we're in the middle of a tense situation and you're raising your hand? What could you possibly want?″

″I just wanna say, while it's probably a big mystery as to why you would join an organization you often call 'evil' and 'something that must be stopped', what I really want to know is why you brought Etna here? What purpose does she serve in coming here?″

″You have been my least favorite Blanc so far,″ he growled.

I shrugged. So did Velvet.

″I don't know how you found out, but it doesn't matter now. I needed Etna here so I could go back to headquarters. My device broke and she's the only one I could reach out to.″

″So did none of us matter to you?″ Velvet pierced through Conrad with her question. He opened his mouth, ready to answer, but before he could, the figure of Etna appeared, pacing about behind Conrad.

″Interesting. So it seems I can move freely up here,″ she observed, not taking any notice of the three humans and one dead alien.

Conrad averted his gaze from Velvet and toward Etna. ″Are you going to help me out now? I brought you here!″ He demanded.

″For none but selfish reasons,″ she explained, looking at the ceiling rather than the one addressing her. ″My power here is limited, none of you are of value to me, and while decorative, killing the Beige was unnecessary as they provided little to no threat in our plans. In short,″ she pushed her glasses up and fixed her gaze on Conrad. ″I owe you nothing.″

I stood in awe at someone I might have once considered a friend get burned by what I might have currently considered an enemy. Not just awe, but enjoyment. I wanted to clap my hands but I knew better than to break the mood.

Conrad grunted, groaned, stomped his feet. ″This is not how it should go!″ He roared, and gave another stomp for good measure. There was no helping it; I let out a chuckle, coupled with a giggle. A titter, if you will. He saw that and pointed his bony finger at me.

″You!″ He hissed. ″This is all your fault!″

″What? Me?″ I pointed to myself. Now there were two fingers pointed at me.

″Conrad, settle down,″ Velvet warned, in a voice that was less calm and more of a threat. ″You're not thinking clearly. It's probably the heat.″

Instead of heeding Velvet's words, he responded with the click of a trigger pointed at my chest and a piercing sound ringing throughout the pyramid.

Here it is. And to think I never got to see Euphoria again, were my final thoughts before my death.

If my death were to occur.

Velvet dived in front of me just in time. In the very same instant that she was hit, she fired a bullet that hit Conrad in the shoulder. He let out the most god awful scream which would have put Wilhelm to shame. Velvet, too, yelped and winced as she made a thud against the floor.

″Holy shit!″ I yelped. ″Why would you do something like that?″

In spite of the pain, she managed a wry smile. ″I was just tired of not doing anything.″ She gave a thumbs up, as if to say ″go get 'em, tiger!″ but I had no idea what I was supposed to get, nor did I think of myself as a tiger.

Synthetic laughter cut its way through the commotion. Etna with all her artificial motions, was basking in the scene taking place.

″I would be lying if I said I didn't find this to be entertaining,″ she spoke, words echoing from across the room.

″Ugh...″ Velvet groaned, squirming on the floor. Blood was leaking down from her side, her hand covered her torso, just under her chest. ″This is my least favorite trope...I never even got to kiss a girl beforehand...″

Ignoring Etna's remark, I was focused on Velvet, the one who saved me from certain (or at least possible) death. ″What do you mean?″ I asked.

″I'm dying, you fucking idiot,″ she groaned, before turning her head and closing her eyes.

″Oh. Fuck,″ was all I could muster. My mouth went dry and I felt my heart dropping, the chains keeping it in place loosening. In the three years that I had known her, Velvet was like an older sister, watching out for me, teaching me things, protecting me. We may not have always got along, but that's probably what made me think of us as like siblings.

″There may yet be time,″ Etna observed. I fixed my gaze, this time, on Etna, who herself watched the dying Conrad and Velvet, seemingly amused by it all. The sadness and pain I was feeling, for a moment, was transferring and redirecting itself to the anger department.

″I could bring forth Ecstasy, revive one or even both of them.″

″Stop it, you!″ I barked. Those were stupid words, but they were all I could think to say.

″You know, Ecstasy has no sexual preference. Either one of them will do,″ she goaded.

It's too late for Velvet, I thought. I could hear Conrad seething, still breathing, even if he wasn't exactly having a good time.

″I thought you said your power here was limited!″ I reminded her. Maybe she lad a lapse in reason and I would have the upper hand.

Instead, she raised a finger, then waved it. It seemed like she was going to say ″tsk. Tsk.″ She was enjoying this villain role a little too much. It was disgusting.

″Limited, but not powerless. Never powerless. Right now there are terminals where I can manifest all around the world. I can allow millions of images of me to move free in any city. This pyramid gives me little to do. But Ecstasy, she can be anywhere. She can do so much more. All she needs is a vessel...″

I gulped. That really wasn't fair. I wasn't even sure if it made much sense. At least I had one rebuttal.

″Conrad would never agree to join with Ecstasy, though! He's got standards!″ I thought for a second, then retracted my statement. ″Well, maybe not, but he knows better!″

″I agree,″ I heard, in a low voice. Conrad lifted his head, a rush of energy filling him.

God damn it, Conrad! I thought. Why you gotta play me like that?

″His memories may not be the same as before, but, you know what they say about the devil and details,″ she played coy. It was ill fitting of an AI.

Conrad stood, hunched over. He swayed back and forth, in a sort of trance. He seemed to be mouthing words, but no sounds were emitted. It was as if he was still getting accustomed to having a roommate in his body.

″Oh, come on!″ I whined. ″He just got shot in the shoulder!″ Shot through the heart and you're too late... fuck, why was that song playing in my head as I said that? ″He would have lived!″

Etna ignored my comment and instead made one of her own, once again basking in the scenery.

″Now, I have no reason to kill you. As I said, the world and I have moved on without you. Killing you would do nothing as you pose no threat.″

Oh thank goodness. She really is a Bond villain.

″However,″ she added. ″I am a sadist.″

I gulped, but also felt at ease. At least there was no longer any pretense about it. It was so annoying when she tried to make grandiose speeches.

Gusts of wind followed by stings brushed up against me, forming cuts on my arms, legs, cheeks, and chest. What followed were consecutive sharp pains across my back. I yelped and was brought down to my knees. I could feel myself falling over, while blood (or sweat (or a mixture of both)) ran down. I imagined Blanc, the one that wasn't me and that I only heard about through stories, went through something similar when they entered the elevator that day.

Squinting my eyes, I noticed everything growing dimmer. I could see shadows swimming about, dancing in fashion, as if they were vines or tentacles, behind Conrad.

This must be the work of Ecstasy, I thought.

Conrad was silent while standing still, attacking me. One of the shadows looked like it was aiming for my head. He (and in extension, Ecstasy) wanted to end me then and there. I could hear Etna's laughter, so sincere, yet so hollow. It could have very well been the end of me, but I couldn't let that happen without trying to do something about it. What good would Velvet's sacrifice have been if I just did nothing and accept my death?

As the shadow tentacles shot forth, I closed my eyes and held out my hands.

″Just one moment!″ I yelled. Conrad stopped. ″Just one moment with Etna, that's all I ask!″

She loved watching the death of others, that much was clear. But she also loved the sound of her own voice, especially when it could be used to hurt others.

″I'm going to die anyway, so what's a minute or two of your time?″ I raised the question, smirking along the way.

″Very well. Surely you have something in mind, so what could it be?″ She shot back.

″I'm just thinking, if you kill me, I won't be able to grant you a physical form,″ I hoped that with what I said, that she took the bait. Instead, she laughed.

″Why would I ever want a human body? I'm much more powerful how I am now! I can do so much more and without the restraints of blind ambition! Simple propositions will not work on someone like me!″

Despite what she said, there was a way in which she defended herself that made me feel like if I nudged just a little more, I would have her. While I knew the elder Beige trusted me, I was also a fan of self-preservation.

″I get all that, trust me, I do, but I also get how you felt when Laharl and Vyers betrayed you and turned you into a machine.″

She looked startled by my words, but then smiled her coy smile.

″Interesting. So somehow you looked into my memories. Even still, what use would I have being human once more? As already stated, I have power and knowledge that my human self lacked. If I so desire, those two directors could meet a terrible fate,″ she explained.

″Yes,″ but I grinned right back. ″What if I told you I could make it so that you return to your human self but still have the capabilities you have now?″

″Doubtful, but I'll humor you. Tell me: How do you plan on going about this?″

″Now, now,″ I made little shooing motions, acting all playful despite my life being on the line. I suppose if I were to die, I may as well have gone out having fun. ″A magician never reveals their secrets. But...I will need some assistance from the audience,″ I winked. I felt like such a dork, but playing it up may have been just what I needed to do.

″If I were to grant your wish, what is it that you would require?″ She asked, both to my delight, and surprise.

″Si...simple!″ I stammered, then cleared my throat. ″Uh, simple: I would need entry into The Flashbulb's headquarters.″

″Is that all?″ She inquired, as if what I asked of her actually was simple.

″I also require Conrad to escort me.″

Conrad's mouth was agape. He must have been in shock over what was going down. No doubt he didn't want to help me, either.

″Very well,″ Etna smiled. This time I couldn't tell what was behind that smile. I knew there was nothing as it was just an image, but that aside, there was the matter of just what her smile meant. Was she in genuine gratitude that I might be able to help her? Was she genuinely happy? Or did she believe that either way, my fate was sealed and this was just a way to humor me and in turn, humor her?

Nah, that couldn't be it. At the moment, I was her hero.

Etna closed her artificial eyes and the same moment I thought she considered me to be her hero, she spoke not a word. It must have been a difficult moment for her, but when she opened her eyes, she spoke.

″I sent a transmission to the higher ups. It is awaiting approval.″

Just as she said that, a portal opened up and through the portal I could see an image of a metallic hallway, similar to the labyrinth I once traversed with Euphoria.

″Begone, you two,″ she pointed to the portal. Conrad was hesitant.

″Why me?″ He groaned.

″Perhaps you're the type who gets off to your own pain, but if that's the case, I imagine if I were to leave your body now that you would just die of pleasure,″ she crooned. Something told me she didn't have to say it herself, that she could have had Ecstasy say it without me listening, but then, I think she wanted me to hear it. For whatever reason that may have been.

″Fine,″ he dragged his feet and followed me into the great unknown, or the great familiar, depending on one's perspective.

We arrived at the facility in the dead of night. I checked my phone. 3 AM. The witching hour. Not that I believed any of that garbage, but it was always funny how superstitious people were about a time of day as if it actually meant something.

Along the way to the facility, I kept getting bonked on the head by the same person who carried me on his shoulders.

″So? How did it feel? Riding that elevator? So many times?″

I growled. ″I don't know! Like an elevator? Boring?″

″Oh yes, I imagine something like that. Some nice muzak here and there?″ He teased.

″I can't remember? Look, does it really even matter? I'm here, aren't I?″ There was no point squirming, just one of his hands on my back was like that of a boa constrictor's grip. Or, so I imagined. I never saw the appeal of zoos.

″Polo!″ Polo butted in. She was hopping from rooftop to rooftop, following the rhythm of motions that Marco made as he leaped across. All the while, I wanted to hurl, and I was certain I probably did at some point.

On the outskirts of the city, Marco set me down and he raised the hand he used to carry me up to his head as he scanned his surroundings.

″Where is this Lilypad base, anyway?″ I asked.

″We're going across the pond!″ Marco responded in a half-cheer and half-sing-a-long.

″Really? England?″

″The seagulls are stirring...″ he muttered, before turning around and looking astounded. ″What? Why would we be going to England? I was just making a frog reference!″

″Polo!″ Polo agreed.

″See? My sister gets it!″

I'm sorry, but I'm not your sister, I thought, clearly not getting it.

″There's an island off the coast of the next city over!″

″Ugh, I hate that city! They're so smug over there!″ I complained.

″Do you think that if I cut off a portion of my arm that I would grow back a second arm on top of my current arm?″ Marco wondered.

″Polo! Polo!″ Polo rebutted.

″Right, I'm not a salamander! Thanks for clearing that up, dear sister!″

I sighed, then felt an upset in my stomach. I had a feeling I was going to throw up again.

Marco bonked me over the head. It felt like an anvil. If I had died from the bonk then and there, this would be a much better, and less boring story.

″So how many times have you taken that elevator?″

″I don't know. At least a hundred?″ ″Oh boy! Just a hundred? It has been three years, has it not?″

″Fine. At least three hundred, I guess?″

″Oh boy! Your head must be mush! Seriously messed up, I dare say! How are you even functioning right now?″ He kept tapping me with his fist while making jeers I didn't understand. ″Gone for a little 'chop and change' every other day or so, huh?″

″Are you done?″ I groaned.

He nodded his head. I took a sigh of relief, but right as I did, he started up again.

″Like, who am I talking to right now? You may as well be a mindless serotonin government slave right now, huh?″

I wanted to hit my head against this concrete block wall or jump off the roof, just end it here and there. Those two were a headache, both physically and metaphorically. I didn't know if I could endure any more, or if any hacker group was worth this much trouble.

Before I had any time to take any drastic measures, Marco swooped me up and threw me into the air, propping me up on his shoulders once more.

″Come on, my little bugaboo! The night is still young and we have many stars to catch!″ His voice sang, dreamy as it was, it was also a whole lot of nothing.

″Polo!″ Polo rang a little ribbit, not quite as dreamy but still amounted to nothing as far as meaningful dialogue goes.

There wasn't a lot I recall during the moments of flight due to the motion sickness I acquired and made clear with my dizzy head and vomit, but there was a point where I swore security guards heard us and start pouring out from doorways and onto the rooftops we were jumping from. Somehow, against all odds, I passed out, although I heard static over their radios and possible gunfire.

What caused my awakening was a loud thud and sand in my face. My eyes opened to see myself on the shore of a beach next to some large building, the building itself obscured by palm trees. Hard to say how obscured it was, though, since palm trees did not grow around these parts and it would be rather out of place however you look at it.

″The fuck? That fucking hurt!″ I half yelled and half yawned.

″Beats taking the ferry though, eh? No fare to the ferryman!″ Marco sang.

″There's no such thi...ugh. Why do I even bother with you?″

″Falcons and eagles had better watch out for my sister. She's a poison dart gay frog.″

″I...uh...″ wasn't following. But this was Marco we were talking about here. It didn't take more than two sentences to lose track of what Marco was talking about. ″Say, were we shot at? Did police get involved? Were we noticed? Did anyone yell 'get down from those buildings?'″

Marco whistled. Polo licked her eyeballs with her tongue.

″Answer me, dammit!″ I growled.

″It was all in your head,″ Marco grinned and shrugged.

″Ugh! You had better not be joking around right now! I spent years in therapy! I was told you two didn't even exist, that you two were all in my head! I was lead to question what was real and what wasn't. Are you aware of what 'gaslighting' is?″

″Sure would be nice to see the other amphibians, yes? Let's go inside!″ Marco gestured toward the door.

″Well?!″ I stamped my foot.

″It couldn't be outside of your head for your eyes were closed, lad. Whether it was real or not, you didn't see it,″ he reassured in his own illogical way. It didn't make me any less angry, but I decided it was pointless to argue further and just walked into the facility with him.

Inside were rows of tables and cubicles separating the many, many desktop computers, humming. The click-clack of keyboard mashes and mouse clicks made me feel right at home. There seemed to be a few things out of place, like, say, the test tubes and beakers on tables next to the walls. Severed human body parts floating in some chemical mixture (eyes, feet, hands, noses), and swarms of  flies buzzing around the room. The numerous computers seemed to be but a fraction of what made up this facility with various doors leading to what I assumed to be extensions of the building, further mysteries I might see soon enough.

″My god, am I in IT heaven?″ I marveled at what I was seeing.

Marco raised his hands up. ″Welcome to our froggy abode!″ He cheered.

Polo hopped across the room, to which a big, burly man stood up wearing some flannel outfit that made him look like a lumberjack. He was covered in warts and had a greenish complexion.

″Curly-Wurly!″ The man bellowed and Polo leaped into his hairy and warty arms.

″Polo!″ She gave a cheerful ribbit.

″Chungus!″ He bellowed once more.

″Kelly Roger, meet Mr. Periwinkle, he's a toad.″

″Toads aren't frogs,″ I pointed out.

Marco seemed to be ignoring me, instead marveling at the moment between his 'sister' and this 'toad' named Mr. Periwinkle.

″Why are they hugging for so long, anyway?″

″Frog and Toad are friends!″ Marco cheered.

″Yeah, but are they also lovers or something? They seem to be awful close.″

″Oh, no, my dear Kelly Roger, you have it all wrong! Mr. Periwinkle is a bear!″ Marco explained while also further confusing me.

″Okay so first you said this place was inhabited by nothing but frogs but then you say Mr. Periwinkle is a toad. Then you say he's a bear. But really, all's I see is a human.″

″Chumbawumba!″ Mr. Periwinkle made a loud, low croak. Marco brought his hands forward.

″Now, now, Mr. Periwinkle, my dear friend Kelly Roger didn't mean it like that!″ Marco turned to me. ″Mr. Periwinkle is a gay toad, just like my sister is a gay frog. In fact, Mr. Periwinkle has a husband. He and his husband have been very supportive of my sister since she was a wee tadpole!″

″Tadpole?! She's a--″ Marco stopped my tirade before I could even begin.

″Shh! My sister's very sensitive!″ He turned his head to each side, then fixed himself back on me. ″Here, come with me. We have much to discuss. Brief history lessons.″

I would have grumbled, but I reminded myself what kind of heaven I was in and kept my cool.

We walked through the halls, through another doorway which sure enough, lead to an extension of the building where mechanisms I didn't know the names for were moving about. It looked like the other side was more than some facility but once a factory or a laboratory of sorts.

Marco did a little tap dance and hummed a tune.

″Are you going to make a point?″ I growled.

″Our world is so full of points. Point A, point B, point #1, and so on.″

Whatever voice he had couldn't mask his mannerisms, which were nails on a chalkboard in comparison. ″Long ago, the powers that be tried to prove a point. Or not so long ago. All a matter of perspective, really.″

He swayed now, rather than dancing in place, as if a soothing lullaby was flowing through his mind.

″The Flashbulb crunched in some numbers, saw a sort of future where amphibians would take over the earth and cause humans to go extinct. So they did what any rational organization would do and experimented on frogs, toads, salamanders, um...″ Marco started counting on his long fingers. ″Name something, Kelly Roger.″

″Newts,″ I replied, already bored out of my mind.

″Ah, yes! That's why you're so brilliant! Even though you are, by all manners of speaking, brain dead!″

″They experimented on poor, helpless amphibians and made it so that they would go into the wild, mate, and their offspring would go infertile. But it had some unintended side-effects.″

″Such as?″

″Swamps could make a good vacation spot, now that I think about it...″

″Such as?″ I asked again, this time louder.

″Well, to put it simply, all amphibians became hyper-intelligent. And gay. They overthrew the wicked scientists and turned this facility into what you see now. Oh, and they developed humanoid appearances, which not all of them are too happy about. I find them beautiful, myself, though. Almost like a metamorphosis.″

″So whenever Alex Jones goes on one of his rants...?″ I suggested, thinking of how he might have actually gotten something right.

Marco laughed a hearty laugh. ″He's just a puppet for The Flashbulb. They pay him to spew nonsense and entertain idiots who think fascism is cool. His real name is Richard Nozzle, by the way. Now, if you want to get down to who's on the side of amphibians...Look no further than the World Wildlife Foundation, which we work with in order to raise awareness of preserving the frog population and avoiding extinction.″

I shrugged. ″Whatever. Why do you need me?″

Marco grinned. ″Someone with your, say, condition, would make a perfect ambassador. What we hope to do is to make it so all humans become gay frogs and have the best living conditions possible. A total gay froggy utopia! You can help spread the word on how great it is to be a gay frog!″

He was still beaming. ″We'll give froggy people universal healthcare, a living wage, no, no wage, because no one will have to be a slave, we'll restore the environment, give everyone a froggy home! We'll do it all and spread the love of gay frogs!″

″Look, I don't care about any of that social justice bullshit. I just wanna hack shit.″

″Oh Kelly Roger, never change. Even though you've changed hundreds of times already!″

I think he could tell how deep my apathy went, so he shrugged as well. ″Very well, K. Rog (a nickname that I was hoping would not stick). Go find an open computer and get to uncovering information on The Flashbulb.″

I walked back into the office and looked around. There were some aspects of these people that could be considered...frog-like, but even if Marco was right, it didn't mean a thing to me. I was where I wanted to be, and I needed nothing more.

Through each hall, with all the neon blue lighting and wires, I walked alongside Blanc, hoping for an opportunity to get rid of them and do what needed to be done.

And what would that be, hm? Ecstasy rang in my ear, who I knew not to really be Ecstasy, as I wasn't born yesterday.

You already know, I shot back. Making sure not to speak out loud.

″This place is so cool, don't you think?″ Blanc remarked. I was hating this experience already. I wished Velvet aimed for a vital organ.

″No, it's not cool. It's deadly. Don't you remember your experience in the underground maze? This is very similar.″

″Maybe from a design standpoint...″ Blanc looked around while saying. ″Yeah, I can see the similarities, but I feel a sense of purpose here. More so than I did when I was down there.″ I shook my head. ″I'm afraid I don't understand. You're still going to die here.″

″Is that so?″ Blanc asked, sounding more curious than afraid. There was something unsettling about the whole thing. Like I was dealing with someone who stole the body of someone I knew rather than the real thing.

″This place is surrounded by cameras, watching our every move. Listening in on all of our conversations. I have seen no timeline in which you make it out of this alive. Whatever you're planning, it's useless,″ I warned them, hoping it would instill some sense of fear. Instead Blanc just gave a bit of a laugh.

″How many timelines have you seen where I've been here?″ They asked. The answer was none.

They gotcha there, Ecstasy rubbed it in. I sighed. Ecstasy would hate me for this, but that was fine by me, as I hated her already.

″To tell you the truth, I wasn't always a member of The Flashbulb. As I told you, Blanc and I worked to take them down. It didn't work out. I stole their time device, but after so many do-overs, only to reach the same conclusion, Blanc's death, I figured if I couldn't beat them, join them.″

Blanc, the clone, yawned. ″You don't have to explain yourself to me, y'know? I may be me, but I'm not your friend. Your friend is dead.″

A chill ran over me despite the lack of breeze in the room. I wanted to cry, but it felt like Ecstasy was holding me back.

Blanc continued. ″That said, I don't think I can forgive you for killing those Beige. They weren't doing anything.″

I snapped. ″That's where you're wrong! They're the enemies of Earth just as The Flashbulb and Amphibian Overlords are. They're all manipulators. If you don't believe anything else I say, believe this: you couldn't trust them any more than you can trust me!″

″Oh really? And what could they possibly be doing just sitting around smoking weed all day, every day?″

″They didn't have to do anything! You know those 'antichrist' stories? The book of revelations? Mark of the beast and all that?″

″I think the past me once saw The Omen once or twice. Makes me associate Damien with evil, even if the person in question is perfectly fine. Honestly it's such a bad movie for that reason alone. Why?″

″When the Beiges moved into Egypt, one of them bore an offspring with a Pharaoh. From documents I've seen, this offspring is still alive somewhere, and prepared to sow chaos wherever they see fit.″

″Pretty creepy stuff, if only it was relevant.″

I imagined Blanc would have been more fazed. Something should have gotten to them. Just as I was contemplating how to break them next, a couple of guards walked by. Heavily armored, carrying assault weapons. I could see Blanc freezing up, finally experiencing the fear I was waiting for. Now everything would fall apart.

The two pointed their weapons at us. Blanc raised both hands forward.

″Now, now, there's, uh, no need to sh-shoot,″ Blanc stammered, but also faking a deep voice, for whatever reason. ″I'm Doctor David Blaine. I'm with the Waste Management Department.″

What? That's so stupid? Doctor 'David Blaine'? What does Blanc think they're doing? I raced through thoughts, somewhat in fear, myself.

I think the deep voice is kind of sexy, Ecstasy remarked. I chose to ignore that.

″Oh, you!″ One of the guards remarked. ″We've heard about you! Wow, what a shithole of Earth!″

″Yeah, it's a load of trash, all right!″ Blanc grimaced and scratched their head. ″Say, could one of you direct me to Dr. Copperfield's office?″

″Sure,″ the other guard replied. ″But you're not going to find him in right now. He's off in the break room.″

″Thanks for the heads up!″

The two guards pointed their weapons at me, now. I couldn't believe it. Shouldn't they know who I am? I could hear Ecstasy hissing.

″Now what about you? Who are you and what are you doing here?″

I wanted to yell and bark on about how they didn't know who I was, but Blanc chimed in instead.

″This is my assistant and comrade, Conrad. He's not a doctor.″

I felt insulted. Even though it was true. I wasn't a doctor.

″Oh, like a secretary?″

Blanc laughed a hearty laugh. ″Pretty much! Fetches me my reports, my coffee, all that jazz! He knows I love me that soylent green!″

The guards laughed as well. ″Alright, we you two keep to your designated zones. You know the drill.″

The two walked off and Blanc hunched over, letting out a sigh of relief. ″Can you believe that worked? Pretty lucky guess that there'd be a Dr. Copperfield, right? Maybe I'll keep having a lucky streak.″

″How did you know that Flashbulb doctors use codenames?″ I demanded to know. There was no way Blanc should have known that. Not unless they were already a Flashbulb member. Our secrets were pretty well guarded.

″What? I didn't know. Like I said, lucky guess. If it didn't turn out true, I'd be dead, right?″

″Which is why it couldn't just be a 'lucky guess'. Tell me right now!″

Blanc tried to whistle, something they weren't very good at. I squinted my eyes. Things just weren't adding up and it was infuriating. ″Let's go to that break room, shall we, comrade?″

″Don't you dare --call me 'comrade'. Only Blanc was allowed to call me that. Not some copy.″ I was about to say, but stopped myself. I felt like the power dynamic was no longer in my favor, even if it was clear Blanc couldn't do whatever it was they were planning.

We continued our path forward, figuring that I was going to be the one to show Blanc to the break room. It was just a few paces forward, past some double doors...

″Hey there, Dr. Copperfield!″ Blanc called out in the same exaggerated, low voice.

Dr. Copperfield was a middle-aged doctor, thinning hair and glasses. Chubby cheeks, and unshaved whiskers. If I had to give a general description, Dr. Copperfield looked like someone I could end up becoming if I wasn't so emaciated.

″Excuse me, who are you?″ Dr. Copperfield asked, without looking up from his eggs and sausage breakfast.

″I'm Dr. Blaine. I just got assigned to the waste management department. I'm thinking of arranging a team to help me out here. I already tried getting rid of the trash via a giant incinerator, but I feel like it's causing serious environmental issues.″

Dr. Copperfield shrugged. ″Leave environmental issues to the Environmental Department. Waste Management is just for getting rid of trash.″

″Oh yeah, good point! Well, what do you say, think of joining my team?″

″I don't know. It's beneath me as a scientist. Waste Management's kind of bottom of the barrel when it comes to departments, you know?″

″Suit yourself. I'm going to recruit Dr. Houdini.″

″Ha!″ Dr. Copperfield gave a resounding laugh. ″He's currently drowning in paperwork, which he probably isn't doing! Don't you know he has a habit of getting out of responsibilities?″

″I'll get him on my side, even if I have to handcuff him!″ Blanc declared. Something I knew Blanc wouldn't even try to do. I had to ask myself if there was a point to anything Blanc was doing, but then again, I was on my toes, knowing something suspicious was going on.

When Blanc and I left the break room, I spoke up.

″What part of that is supposed to give Etna a physical form?″ I reminded them of why they were here.

Blanc shrugged. ″I just took a quick detour. Anyway, which room is Dr. Houdini's?″

″Follow me,″ I groaned.

While we were walking, Blanc mused on about things that I really didn't have the patience for.

″So how does time travel work, exactly? I imagine it's like...hm...″ Blanc got lost in thought for a second.

Please don't mention Doctor Who. Please don't mention Doctor Who.

″Is it like Back to the Future or more like Bill and Ted?″ Blanc asked instead.

″You need not concern yourself with that. Only those with a time cube can go to various times.″

″Is that what it's called? 'Time Cube'? Interesting stuff.″

″Like I said, it doesn't matter, because need I remind you, you're not going to make it out of here alive!″ I fumed.

You should tell Blanc this... Ecstasy suggested as she began to relay a message from Etna.

″By the way,″ I began to retell. ″Etna tricked you. She knows you're going to fail. That's because at this point in time, she's already become the computer system you know. She just wanted you to toy with you as you experience the despair of knowing that whatever you do, you're going to die having fulfilled nothing.″

Blanc stared, wide eyed, at least for a second. Then blew out a deep breath and smiled. ″Hey, I know you're trying to scare me, but this is really reassuring. You could have just waited until I actually got there, but you decided to do it now.″

″What? You're not scared?″ I was flabbergasted.

″Well, maybe a little, but as long as I get something done, I don't mind dying.″

It was like they just ignored everything I had said. I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

″You're not as dumb as you make yourself out to be.″

″Thanks,″ they replied.

″Just who are you?″ I muttered. ″What are you planning?″

Blanc grinned. ″Me? I'm just a hopeless romantic.″

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Happiness Overload Chapter Ten

I walked up to the fridge and peered at its contents. There appeared to be moldy food and nothing at all appetizing. I had just woken up. From the corner of my bed, I could hear the alarm clock on my phone going off. The alarm, for some reason, went to radio, and I had yet to bother to turn it off. It sounded like some right-wing conspiracy theorist yelling nonsense in a Texan accent.

″THERE ARE GAY FROGS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! DON'T BELIEVE ME? I SAW TWO LESBIAN FROGS HOLDING HANDS! WELL GUESS WHAT, GLOBAL ELITES? I WON'T STAND FOR IT! I HAVE HETEROSEXUAL FROGS IN MY BACKYARD AND THEY HAVE STRAIGHT SEX EVERY DAY! I FILM IT! AS PROOF, EVIDENCE, FOOTAGE! NO ONE'S GOING TO TAKE MY FROG SEX TAPES AWAY FROM ME! NOT THE GOVERNMENT, NOT BIG PHARMA, NOT PETA, NOT EVEN MY EX-WIFE!″

I groaned and turned my alarm off. I didn't even know why it went to that station in particular.

I went back to the fridge and groaned again. I should have known better. Well, I knew better. That's just what happens when you consistently go out and eat Chinese when you should be eating the groceries you bought the other week. I started shoveling the food into a garbage bag. I hated doing this. Wasting so much food. But some things needed to be done. I just told myself that I wouldn't make a habit out of it.

How many times have I told myself that, though?

I opened the door to my apartment and was met by a bright, cloudy day. Any minute it might rain. Rain can be a good thing. Some would consider the way it rained on a whim in the city as a charm of sorts. I couldn't disagree, although what sort of charm was up for debate.

All around me were smiling faces. Some off to work, some coming home from work. Some just enjoying a morning walk. It was nice to see so many people in such high spirits, even if there didn't seem to be much reason to be. Well, there were a few reasons to be.

It's been three years since the elevators at the station were first installed. During those three years, improvements were made, said to make things safer for passengers. Now multiple people could board and each of them would be taken their desired destination. Not only that, but such elevators, now dubbed ″ETNAvators″ could be found in almost every major city across the United States, with plans in a year to go international. Who knew that a teleporter would be so successful?

As far as I was aware, we were living in the good future science fiction novels had foretold. Crime was at an all time low, universal healthcare was finally put into place, everyone's student loan debt in college was paid off in full (as well as universities becoming tuition free), the minimum wage was raised to reflect inflation, and a law was reinstated that made pizza delivery services abide by the edict of 'thirty minutes or less or it's free'. To think that it was only three years ago that I was part of a team trying to stop the corporation making this all possible, ETNA.

Not much was known about the company, but honestly, when they were doing such good work, did anyone really care? I certainly didn't, but I was sure someone did. If the mysterious figure, Conrad, was still lurking, he may have still been trying to figure out how to stop them. But if he hadn't done anything yet, he probably wasn't going to do anything in the near future. I still recall gathering information with he and Velvet, another mysterious person I had no desire to learn anything about. I hoped that they were safe, but was also relieved that it was no longer my problem.

Just three years prior, in the midst of the pursuit between some nasty officers and I, someone in an alleyway caught my gaze; his thin, long legs stood like crooked stilts and he wore a baseball bat. He was laughing and peering out.

He's laughing at you, a thought appeared.

You have to chase him down, beat him up, another one showed up.

I'm trying not to get shot, this really isn't the time! I yelled at my own thoughts.

The thoughts wouldn't stop, almost as if they weren't my own. Call me a sucker, but I gave in to them when I was still running and noticed the same man in another alleyway. I darted toward the alleyway, ready to tackle him.

Instead what occurred was him grabbing me. I hit his chest in protest, but he didn't even flinch. He was much stronger than he appeared to be, his body resembling a stick-bug and not someone with such a heavy build.

″Hey! Put me down!″ I yelled, continuing to pound my fists against his chest and kicking his back.

He didn't. He did laugh, however.

″You'd rather be shot dead right now, eh?″ He chirped, his voice actually soft spoken and polite. His voice reminded me of an Irish folk singer. ″Way I see it, you ought to be thanking me right now,″ he added.

He skipped along, as if the weight on his shoulder meant nothing. I bobbed up and down, feeling as if at any moment I would throw up.

...And then the moment came. Vomit shot up my throat and spilled from my mouth, landing on the stick-man's pinstripe suit.

″Oh lordy, I just got that dry cleaned, too!″ He looked down, his voice betraying him as he didn't sound all that concerned. I was feeling real dizzy and there was but a singular thought running through my head:

The fuck is a dry clean?

I felt a nudge against the side of my stomach. I awoke on a cold, granite floor. I looked up and saw the stick-man (or stick-whatever) nudging me with a stick. How fitting.

″Oh, this? This is just my cane. I use it to walk,″ he tossed it behind him. ″That was a lie. I don't need a cane. But it's a cane, I assure you.″

″I didn't ask...″ I replied with a groan. I sat up and rubbed the top of my head.

″Thought you would, so I prepared myself. Golly, you're no fun.″

I looked over. It wasn't a cane. It was some branch off of a tree. From the look of things, I was in some storeroom. Still, I blurted out the question.

″Where am I?″

″Please don't think of me as a kidnapper, I'm just a traveler when you get down to it,″ he reassured before I even had time to voice such concerns.

″You literally kidnapped me, but seriously, where am I?″

He whistled before answering. ″Out by the docks. I'm hoping we can both meet my sister.″

″Where are we going? What do you plan to do with me?″

″I'm Marco. Or at least that's what I refer to myself as. What's your name?″

I was getting really annoyed with this 'Marco' character.

″Is this just some quirk of yours that you can't help or are you doing this on purpose?″

″I just want to share some information with you. That and save your life. Golly gee, aren't you ungrateful? Those cops were looking to shoot you dead and cover it up. You know they would cover it up, too, right?″

I gave up. I didn't even humor Marco with a response.

″I promise, we'll just go on a little ride and once I know it's safe to return to land, I'll drop you off. You will be safe, you have my word!″

I sighed. ″My name's Kelly Roger. I don't trust you, but I feel pretty powerless right now, so I figure I don't have a choice.″

Marco blinked. ″Is Roger your last name?″

″No,″ I shook my head. ″Both first name.″

He stroked his chin as if he had a beard. He didn't.

″I already knew that.″

″Then why the fuck did you ask?″ I snapped.

″Hey, hey. I've just been watching you for quite some time. You know Conrad, right?″

″Yeah. That guy's such a dick!″ I ignored the fact that he just admitted to watching me. It didn't feel so bad since Velvet and I had watched over the whole town via hacking into security cameras.

He smiled and nodded. ″Can't be trusted, the fellow.″

I felt a surge of delight fill me.

″I knew it! I always had my doubts about him! He was always going on and on. 'Blanc is important' this and 'Blanc is my best friend. I'd do anything for them' that. Ugh!″

Marco twirled around and reminded me of Black Swan, that one ballerina movie that I never saw but told myself I would check out one of these days. Mostly because Natalie Portman was one of my celebrity crushes.

″I don't know anything about this Blanc fellow, but Conrad doesn't, hm...″ he paused, unsure of what word to use.

″Give a fuck?″ I tried filling in the blanks.

″No, no, that's not it.″ He dismissed. He paced around a bit before going ″aha!″

″Conrad doesn't find whoever that is to be important!″

He looked so pleased with himself, like a dog that just learned a new trick and was begging for a treat. Well I wasn't about to give one to him.

″What about the work Velvet and I did?″

″Hm...yes. He might find others important in the sense that one might find a toolbox, but he doesn't...hm...give a fuck?″

″You could have just said that the first time!″

He whistled and pulled up his sleeve to look at his wrist.

″There's normally a watch here, I can assure you.″

He skipped over to the other end of the building. I turned my head and watched him open the door, letting a flash of light in. He turned to me, grinned, and pointed upward.

″Oh my, look at the time! We gotta get a move on!″

I walked over to where he was standing, the breeze from the river gliding against my chest. My curly red hair flew back.

If I ever let it grow out and meet up with Velvet again, someone on the street might mistake us for twins, I thought. I do hope the two of them are safe right now. Well, not Conrad. He can eat a dick.

″Ah, there she is!″ He pointed at the sky. ″There's my sister! Hello, sister!″

I looked up and he slapped me.

″What are you doing looking at the sky? My sister's on the water!″

I wanted to punch Marco, but something told me it would be like punching a brick wall.

Down by the docks, a gondola approached with a towering umbrella casting a shadow underneath, only allowing a portion of the person riding to be seen, and what little could be seen was just a pair of huge hands over a polka-dot blanket.

″Not every day I see a gondola,″ I remarked. Actually, aside from in pictures, it wasn't any day. I've never seen one in person.

Marco ignored me and leaped into the boat, curling into a ball to fit underneath the umbrella.

″Sister! So good to see you!″ He cheered.

″Polo,″ was the sound I heard in response from what I assumed came from his sister.

I waited until the gondola actually got to the docks before leaning my foot over. The boat tipped and the rest of me began leaning as well, almost against my will. My hands flailed about. Right before I could fall over, just as I feared I would, Marco crawled up and caught me, pulling me into the gondola with him and his 'sister'.

″Kelly Roger, meet my sister, Polo!″ He introduced. I squinted. The two looked nothing alike. Marco was tall and bald with his baseball cap on. Polo was short with dark hair in a bob cut. There were but three things about her that weren't small: her glowing yellow eyes, pupils dilated. Her puffy hands, which bore no hair nor fingernails, her fingers themselves looked webbed. Then there was her large mouth, which appeared to fill the entire bottom half of her face. After a good minute of studying her features, I shifted my gaze to Marco.

″Seriously? Marco Polo? Please tell me that's not your guys' real names.″

″Polo!″ Polo added. Was she a pokemon in disguise?

″We're not blood related, but we're family!″ He answered. Sorta. I still felt lost. ″She's a gay frog!″

″Uh-huh...″ I replied, skeptical. Sure, she didn't look like the average person, but I was pretty sure I knew what frogs looked like. Marco hummed a tune, not seeming to notice my doubts. Flies buzzed around the umbrella. One made its way inside, to which Polo responded by opening her mouth and shooting her tongue forward, wrapping it around the fly. Her tongue slunk back into her mouth and she swallowed.

″Polo!″ She beamed, or it at least looked that way. She seemed happy. I, myself, couldn't believe what I was seeing.

″Did...did she just?″ I stuttered, astonished.

″I once measured. Three feet, five inches.″

I blinked.

Marco stroked his chin. ″Or maybe it was six inches...″

″That's it, I've seen enough! I'm getting off!″

″No, no, maybe I was being generous. Maybe it was four inches...″

I turned around only to realize we already left the docks and were in the middle of the water.

″Polo!″

″That's right! Polo wanted me to let you know that frogs are not the only kind of amphibians.″

I didn't know what I got myself into. I left one crazy group only to find myself in another.

″What a beautiful blue sky, wouldn't you agree, Polo?″

″So what do you want with me?″ I asked.

″Polo!″

″Oh yes, those seagulls are serene!″

″What the fuck are you talking about?″ I shouted. ″I can't see a damn thing!″

Marco blinked. ″I want to tell you how the future will play out.″

″What are you, some fortune teller?″ I scoffed.

″I just know a thing or two about the forces at play.″

″Oh, really?″ I inquired. ″And what forces would those be?″

″Polo!″ Bellowed Polo. Marco shook his head.

″Salamanders are actually amphibians and not lizards,″ he told me.

″What? Those are the forces at play?″

″No. Not yet anyway. They probably will be. Or at least Axolotls. Despite what ETNA believes, axolotls are not extinct.″

″ETNA? You mean the corporation behind the elevator in town?″

″Newts are also amphibians, by the way.″

″Focus, Marco!″ I snapped.

″Polo!″

″I wasn't distracted, I swear! That was valuable information!″ He defended himself, a useless effort. ″Anyway, yes, that very same ETNA. They'll make it big in a few years. Even though they already have. They'll be a little more public. Well, the public will think they know of them.″

″And what will the public know?″

″Not the same things you know. Actually, they won't know anything. They'll just think they'll know.″

″What do I know?″

Marco reached over and slapped me, something I wanted to do to him since he opened his mouth, and he ended up taking that glory from me.

″You've seen the documents. Conrad has even told you that the ETNA corporation is a small section of a secret organization as The Flashbulb. The Flashbulb work in departments, across various universes and times, each department dealing with a different version of Earth.″

″That all sounds ridiculous!″

″But you know it to be true!″ Marco exclaimed, his hands stretched out and touching the umbrella's ceiling. ″Conrad can't be trusted, but he told you the truth and you're a part of this, whether you like it or not!″

I shook my head. ″Sorry, you got the wrong person. All I did was uncover secret government documents.″

″You uncovered secret documents, you were traced back, they found your location, they know you know their secrets. Well, lemme rephrase...″ he paused and looked at Polo. Polo croaked. ″...Some of their secrets. Enough that they'll want to deal with you. Or at least put on a show. I can't say my predictions are 100% accurate.″

″How will they want to deal with me?″

″They've got options. They could kill you. They already tried to do that with those cops earlier. They probably won't try to kill you again, though.″

″Good riddance. I don't think I could handle being shot at again.″

″Instead what they'll probably do is more elaborate. When you return, everything will seem normal. However, your parents, a relative, a friend, might suggest you go into therapy. The therapist, employed by The Flashbulb, will convince you that none of what you saw or were told was real, that they were delusions. Hallucinations. That you suffer from a mental illness. Actually...″ He paused.

″They don't even have to go through that effort. Salamanders can regrow their tails.″

I tried to ignore the last part and not the first. It was difficult to only ignore one and not the other. I was an all-or-nothing kinda person.

″You could board the elevator one of these days. One of these days could turn into several times. When that happens, your memories and perception of reality will be altered. You'll believe that you've been told you have a mental illness. You'll believe it to be true and that you imagined all your interactions with Conrad and Velvet. That you imagined your interactions with me. That all the documents you read never existed. Prescriptions may appear in the mail. If I appear again, you may come to think of me as a hallucination.″

He cleared his throat. ″Sorry, swallowed a fly. I did it by accident. Blame my sister for not catching that one.″

″Why would I board when I know what happens in there?″

He smiled. ″You have your doubts, don't you?″

A shiver ran down my spine. I gulped. Although not quite sure if I believed Marco, I wanted to ask just one thing.

″Did you bring me with you so you could prevent this future?″

Marco laughed. Polo croaked.

″Actually, it might be better to wait and let this play out. Maybe I'm wrong. But then again, if I'm right, then that's all the better.″

″Wow. You're a dick.″

Marco shrugged. ″I'm more open about it than your previous companion.″

″Polo!″ Agreed Polo. Or disagreed. It was hard to make out Polo's tone.

I was boiling. I couldn't trust this Marco guy any more than I could trust Conrad before. I shouldn't have ever trusted either of them. I just joined Conrad and Velvet before because I was bored and he promised me that I could sit in front of a computer all day with the best internet in the whole city. The only real reason he brought me on was because he knew of my abilities as a hacker after I managed to infiltrate a hacker group known as Lilypad and stole some of their e-mails. That was all for fun. Everyone I ever encountered was using me and I was sick of it.

″You know what? I'm leaving. As soon as we get to shore, I'm leaving.″

″Of course. That was what we were going to let you do anyway.″

I was taken aback. ″What? Really?″

″Yeah. Didn't I tell you that? We already know you can't swim.″

″How'd you know that?″

″Polo!″ Polo answered.

Marco put Polo's hand on his chest. ″You can tell certain people can't swim just by looking at them. You're one of those people. You've got it written all over you.″

″Really? What are the signs?″

″Say, about the future. You may think things are great. That society has improved. That's only because you won't know any better. None of it will affect you. You'll have memories that you heard it on TV or the internet, even if you never did. Others will look happier, and that's because they've been chemically conditioned to feel calm about everything.″

″I feel like there's so many fundamental flaws about that. How would that ever work? That seems like a whole lot of work to what amounts to a whole lot of nothing.″

″Not nothing. Slavery,″ he corrected.

″Polo!″ Polo added.

″That's right! Polo wants me to tell you how nutritious flies are!″

″So you brought me on this boat just to tell me all this even though it changes nothing?″

″Gondola,″ Marco corrected.

″Polo!″

″Whatever,″ I scoffed.

The gondola hit against something. Marco turned around.

″Oh, look, here we are. Sand!″

I recognized this area. It was on the other side of town. Sort of a mini-beach.

I leaned over and stepped off the gondola. ″Well, this has been...something.″

Just as I started walking away, I could hear Marco's voice.

″Kelly! Roger!″ Of course he'd butcher my name.

I turned around.

″When the time comes, we'll contact you. I think you'll join our cause willingly.″

A sly smile formed on my face. ″Oh, and what's the purpose of your 'cause'? What do you hope to gain?″

″We want to make the fantasy you'll be living in a reality!″ He cheered.

I shook my head. I was tired of all this nonsense. I caught a bus and went to the station just to prove a point, boarding the elevator inside. Nothing happened, save for the fact that it took me to my parent's house, somewhere I thought of visiting.

It's been three years since all that has happened. I lived with my parents for a little while; they took pity on me after I made up some sob story.. After much persuasion, they had me check into therapy, which I was reluctant to do, not believing in such institutions. I was put on disability and given a studio apartment and a fixed income each month. My life has turned around and I'd like to believe I'm not the same person I was three years ago.

I still have hallucinations and hear voices, but I've come to terms that they're just that; hallucinations. Not real. I wish others knew that people like me aren't dangerous, we can lead perfectly fine lives, and most of the time, just want to be left alone.

Even with that said, there's one voice in particular that seems to visit my apartment every night at 10. It says the same thing.

″Ready to join us?″

I knew nothing would happen. That it was just a voice. But I was getting real sick of it.

On one particular night, I decided enough was enough and reached for the door. It may have been a case of ″I forgot to take my meds that day″ but I had to show this voice, or hallucination who's boss.

Standing at my door was Marco.

″Go away. You're not real,″ I told him.

″I knew you'd say that!″ He grinned, and tossed me into the air.

I landed on the roof of the adjacent building, Polo caught me. Or...maybe I climbed on the roof of that building and I just wasn't aware of it.

″So, ready to join us?″ Marco asked. I didn't see him climb or even jump up to the building. That's how I think it must not have been real.

″If I say yes, will you leave me alone?″

″No!″

″Then why would I say yes?″

″Because you've already joined us in the past. Don't you remember Lilypad?″

My heart started pounding. ″You...you're...?″

″Consider this a formal invitation to the world of Amphibians!″

I couldn't believe it. That's probably why I knew it was real. Ever since I was 12 I wanted to join the secret hacker group known as Lilypad.

″All your predictions came true...″ I whispered.

″Polo,″ agreed Polo.

I walked up to the fridge and peered at its contents. There appeared to be moldy food and nothing at all appetizing. It was in the middle of the day and I tired of walking around, checking the fridge, and seeing the same gross monstrosities every time I opened it up. It would have been nice to see some normal food for once. How the other residents of this place could stand to eat such things, I did not know, but I'm human and I can't just eat whatever.

″How can you guys stand that stuff?″ I leaned over and yelled. Three of them were sitting in the next room, smoking up a fog. They stared at me for a minute, then shrugged. Something about their nonchalance pissed me off, so I let them know how I felt by kicking their fridge. They paid no mind and talked about the inner workings of the universe.

Whatever. I'm sure I have some doritos stashed on my ship somewhere.

I opened the door to the pyramid and was met by a flurry of sand and gusts of hot air. There was not a sight to behold and if I tried to focus on anything, sand would just get in my eyes. All of a sudden I had a new found respect for the Star Wars prequel trilogy; Anakin had a good reason to hate sand.

″Hey, close the door! You're letting all the hot air in!″ One of them moaned. I swear, these folks never get angry, as if they simply don't have the energy.

″Put a cork in it!″ I barked.

They were right, though. I slammed the door shut just to prove a point. It had only been a few seconds and I was already breaking a sweat. Good thing a place like this had air conditioning.

″Do you have to be so loud?″ One of them wondered. In another context it may have sounded like a complaint. The way it was spoken, however, came off as a moment of contemplation.

″I'm antsy. There's a difference,″ I wheezed. The air conditioner may work just fine, but all it took was a short burst of extreme heat to not fare well with me. Walking on the floor felt more like balancing on a tightrope, however cliché that may sound. I started wobbling.

″This is why we keep the door closed,″ an exceptionally high one observed, as if making a breakthrough.

″I...just need to...lie down...for a bit...″

″What you need is herbal refreshments,″ advised one of the elders, pointing to a bong. I say ″elders″ because the older ones tended to have long, gray beards. If they looked anything like Gandalf, I would consider these folks Lord of the Rings cosplayers. As far as I knew, they were just stoners from another planet. A planet long since forgotten.

Water splashed on my face and I wiped it to find the culprit: Blanc. They were standing over me with a glass that once housed water.

″It looked like you needed some,″ they pointed to the glass and started making glub, glub, glub noises.

″In my mouth, not on my face!″

Two Beiges leaned over.

″Take it to the bedroom,″ one of them chortled. I feel like the other would have winked, except Beiges don't have eyelids, just two huge black eyes.

I was about to get up, throw something at the two, or maybe break their bongs, the one thing those aliens seemed to care about.

″You have to admit,″ Blanc pointed out. ″That sounded pretty lewd.″ Yeah, I know, and if the shoe were on the other foot, I would be hysteric, but newsflash: I said it and therefore it's not funny.

″I should've been the one splashing water on your face!″ I growled, then took the glass from Blanc's hand and pretended to splash them. Blanc flinched, and rightfully so. I held onto the cup and marched right to the kitchen. After filling it with tap water and chugging it down, I wiped my face and marched toward the spare room that Conrad had been using.

″I'm sick of being stuck here!″ I announced. ″You said this was only temporary! That we just needed to lay low for a bit! Well it's been three fuckin' years, dude!″

Conrad was tightening a bolt to some machine he said he'd been building. I couldn't get too good of a look since the room was dark, but that didn't really matter.

″You're not stuck here,″ he pointed out. ″You've been going out and getting pizza in Cairo just about every night.″

″What? That's ridiculous! You have no proof!″

He looked up. ″You walk around the place and yell ″who wants pizza?!″

″I...I...I gotta do something to stay sane!″ I went on the defensive.

″How do you even afford all that stuff?″ He glared.

″That's none of your business,″ I glared right back.

″It is when we're wanted by the most terrifying organization. Do you want them to find us?″

″If they're so terrifying, I think they would have by now. I mean, if they wanted us so bad, anyway. Face it: they're just not that into us. They've moved on.″

″Maybe they have, but I haven't,″ Conrad sounded resolute. ″So long as they further their efforts to subjugate Earth in all its forms, I will find a way to stop them. I just need a little more time...″

″That's what you said two years ago!″ I shot back. I slammed his door shut, which he probably appreciated anyway. It was hard to believe three years ago I had such high hopes that I would turn my miserable life around and actually fight back for once instead of hiding away.

Three years ago, Blanc, Conrad, and I were aboard my ship, exiting the headquarters of the ETNA Corporation. It wouldn't have surprised me if it was one base of operation out of many, but there was little time for speculation. We were going back above ground and taking to the skies.

″This is all so cool!″ Blanc admired.

″It is, isn't it?″ I leaned myself against the wall, looking all cool. It wasn't that I was trying to impress anybody; my ship spoke for itself.

Blanc skipped on over to the front where Conrad was sitting, the spell of curiosity overtaking them.

″I have so many questions right now,″ Blanc began.

″I bet you do,″ was Conrad's cold, monotonous response.

″Yeah, anyone in my situation would, wouldn't they?″

″But your situation is unique,″ Conrad added.

″Shit, you're right!″ Blanc agreed and snapped their fingers. Blanc then looked down and stamped their feet. I knew that look all too well: the look of trying to find what to say and worried about making things awkward. Likely thinking about what question to ask to start with.

″Say, that Etna lady called those guards Prinnies! Isn't that funny?″ Blanc blurted.

″It stands for Practical Reinforced Integrated Nuclear Neural Independent Enhanced Soldier.″

″That's a mouthful. No wonder she stuck with Prinnies,″ Blanc remarked. For some weird reason, the name made me think of penguins.

I smirked. I wanted to say I liked this kid based on quirk alone, but it was too soon to judge. I didn't get much of an impression of the previous Blanc; the only thing that lingered was the stench of decay.

″You really have no idea what's going on, do you?″ Conrad snapped.

″Well, no, but I figure it's not something great. I'm not sure who's more in the wrong, though...me or the government. I mean, they're killing people and replacing them with clones, but I trespassed on their facility by mistake. So I think it's a bit of a toss up.″

I snorted. I couldn't tell if they were being sarcastic or genuine and that made it all the more funny. There was a certain innocence to this Blanc that I admired. Maybe I would have still had that innocence too if I hadn't fucked up my life so much.

″It's not just the government. It's corporations. Members of various governments around the world. Renowned scientists from around the globe. No, not just the globe. Multiple globes.″

″Like Saturn?″

″No, just Earth!″

″Saturn's not a globe?″

″Listen, Blanc: This secret organization is known as The Flashbulb. They desire a new world order across multiple versions of Earth. They can travel between alternate realities, they can travel through time. They are pure evil.″

Blanc put their index finger on their chin. ″Yeah, I mean, I kinda got that vibe, but I wasn't sure, y'know?″

Conrad looked annoyed. He was about to call his, at one point in time, best friend, a dimwit. I was sure of it. Instead, he drew a deep breath and exhaled.

″So we were friends, right? The me before me, that is?″ Blanc asked.

″Yes, and there was a different you before that. One who I lost. I lost the one that came before you, too, but this you was different. The Blanc I knew was brave and smart and for the longest time I thought we would really win. With just the two of us, we would create a resistance and defeat not only the ETNA Corporation, but The Flashbulb as a whole. However, at the very last second, a top ranking member of The Flashbulb turned back time.″

″So it's not so much that that Blanc was erased as it is that things turned out differently this time around.″

″It's essentially the same thing!″

″Yeah, I guess you're right. Though I gotta ask, if time changed before and none of that ended up happening after all, how can you recall it happening?″

″I...″ Conrad was at a loss for words. This was interesting. Mildly interesting, but still interesting, nonetheless. ″I just can. It's not all that important.″

″What's important is to keep moving forward, right?″

″Speaking of which, it shouldn't be much longer before we get to Egypt,″ I chimed in. I was feeling left out, and no one's allowed to make me feel left out except me.

″Oh yeah!″ Blanc turned their head. ″What's there in Egypt, anyway?″

″You know the eye on the pyramids on the dollar bill?″ Conrad asked Blanc.

″Oh yeah! So both The Flashbulb and The Illuminati exist?″

Conrad shook his head. ″No, the eye is just a doorbell. There's another faction that wishes to control the Earth. We're visiting their hideout. I figure if we can form a temporary alliance, the both of us can defeat The Flashbulb and then we'd have one less enemy to worry about.″

″Oh jeez! I'm gonna be so far from my apartment! I didn't even bring a change of clothes with me! Can we go back to my place and get my stuff?″ Blanc started freaking out.

″No.″

″Aw man, now what?″

″We'll play it by ear.″

Blanc slouched over and started whining. I walked over and gave them a pat on the back.

″There, there. If I left anything behind, I'd be upset, too.″ I noticed this Blanc didn't smell so bad. Well, a little bad. Blanc smelled like they needed a shower, but at least they didn't smell like a rotting corpse.

Blanc perked up. ″Hey, at least it'll be like an adventure! I've never been outside the country!″ I walked away. My job was done. I had done at least two good deeds that day, that was more than enough for me.

″Oh wow, look at all those buttons!″ I overheard. I didn't want to eavesdrop, but curiosity got the best of me and I saw Blanc leaning over at the dashboard.

″Yes, and don't touch any of them,″ Conrad groaned. ″It's not your ship.″

I wasn't about to stand for such a nasty attitude.

″You're right, it's mine!″ I yelled. ″Leave Blanc alone!″

Blanc was about to press a button, which could very well have been the self-destruct button (if the ship had one).

″But seriously, kid,″ I added. ″Don't touch anything!″

I fell asleep on one of the bunk beds in back of the ship. I didn't trust Conrad's intentions, but I trusted him enough to get us there. That was enough for now.

A few hours later, I awoke to a crash. I bolted up and only saw darkness around me.

The ship was still intact. I was fine.

″What's going on?!″ I shouted.

″It's fine!″ Conrad called back. ″We're here!″

I went up to the front and turned the headlights to my ship on. All around the ship was a pit of sand and ancient hieroglyphs. In front of the ship stood a large door, fitting for the fe-fi-fo-fum variety, not the average human height.

″You coming or what?″ Blanc yelled, their voice sounding more joyous than antsy.

″Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute!″

I scrambled down the steps all while muttering profanities.

″God damn it, Conrad. I told you not to make the ship physical without my okay.″

Outside, I heard a couple taps on the stone door and before I even had time to face it, it opened up. I ran, pushing Blanc and Conrad aside, just to get a view of what this so-called other faction would be.

What emerged from the other side were three tall figures, clad in blouses and hula skirts. Their skin lumpy, several warts covered their bodies, but none seemed to swell. Every inch of their body was the same pale sandy fawn color. Their eyes, although pitch black, seemed to illuminate the surrounding.

″I'm not saying it's aliens, but...″ Blanc muttered.

″It's aliens,″  Conrad replied, not sounding the least bit amused or surprised.

One of them stepped forward, and with me being in front, I was a mere two feet away from this being.

″Greetings. You smell of pennies,″ they announced in a soft, matter-of-fact voice.

″What's that supposed to mean?″ I grunted.

″Relax,″ replied Conrad. ″That's just how they greet people.″

I walked forward, brushing past them. I didn't have time to hear how I smelled.

I overheard the other two being greeted and looked over my shoulder.

″Greetings. You smell of old cabbage,″ they told what I presumed to be Conrad. I never thought of it before, but yeah, Conrad did smell a little like that.

″Greetings. You smell dank,″ the last one told Blanc.

″Is that a good thing or a bad thing?″ Blanc asked.

″It depends on if we can smoke you,″ the being simply replied.

″Ehehe...″ Blanc gave a nervous laugh. I didn't blame the kid. I was just as nervous, truth be told.

″What's with the door?″ I asked one of them. ″You guys are only, like, what, seven feet tall? Don't get me wrong, that's tall, but what gives?″

″Oh, that's just for decoration. You like it?″

″It's unnecessary,″ I pointed out.

″It's about a hundred and twenty feet tall,″ another one replied. ″We could tell you tall it is in meters, but something tells me you guys are American.″

″How do you know what 'American' is?″

″We keep up with current events. We've been here thousands of years, ought to do something productive with our time.″

I see. So that explains why they said 'pennies' and not simply 'copper.' Still, being sniffed out made me uncomfortable.

″Hey, is there a shower in here?″ Blanc piped up. I didn't expect there to be one. This was an ancient race of creatures from another planet.

″Of course. Down the hall and to your left,″ they pointed forward.

I balked. ″What? Really?″

″Water is the foundation of all life.″

I growled. That wasn't fair. Blanc was already running. Sure, they were a little stinky, but they probably just bathed the day prior. With me, it's been...probably about the same time, but what I had going for me was the dried up blood that once flowed down my ears.

I looked around to see a dimly lit space; many halls, many doors leading who knows where. There were stairs leading up, probably to yet another living room and yet another set of halls with many doors.

″Which hall is it? Which door on the left?″ I asked.

″Uh...that one. The first left, I think.″

″Right...″

Everything was so modern despite the place being inhabited by an ancient race. I didn't understand, since I figured they never went outside or left their confines. There was some mystery here, but one I was too apathetic and jetlagged to ponder.

I took a seat on one of the chairs situated in the living room. The placed reeked of weed. I felt like I was going to suffocate. My eyes closed, only to reopen with an alien hovering over me.

″Care to partake in some herbal refreshments?″

″Dude, I just got off a flight, do I look like I'm in the mood?″ I scoffed.

The alien shrugged. ″More for me, then.″

Several hours passed. I must have have been in some deep sleep. What awoke me was a great nudge on my shoulder. I expected it to be a clammy alien, but instead it was Blanc.

″There's no shampoo in the shower,″ they whined.

I yawned. ″Damn, and I was just about to shower, too.″ My stomach made a sound as if to announce it was Mufasa from The Lion King.

″Say, how long was I out?″

Blanc pondered for a bit. ″About a full day. I didn't want to wake you, but Conrad's busy and the Beiges are too faded to answer my questions.″

Huh, I thought. So that's what they're called. I think I recall Conrad mentioning them at some point, but I must've forgotten.

″What? You mean to tell me we've been here for three days?!″

″Well, not a full three days, but yeah.″

I leaped to my feet, my body ready to collapse. It was all sore from sitting backwards in a chair, dozing off for so long.

″C'mon, kiddo. We're going shopping.″

″What? Wouldn't Conrad be mad that we're out in public?″

″He don't need to know a damn thing, alright? We're getting shampoo and a bite to eat, that's all.″

Blanc brightened up.

I was already off to a good start for the day.

It was after the trip in which I decided to formally get to know this Blanc. We came back to the pyramid to find an empty living room. Both of us looked around, but we must have silently agreed that we weren't going to go searching for aliens.

I pulled out the same chair I slept in. Blanc sat on a sofa. They checked their phone, but kept mumbling about there being no signal.

″Hey!″ I snapped.

Blanc looked up.

″Tell me a little about yourself.″

″Well...″ Blanc trailed off, then seemed to be lost in thought. ″I'm a brilliant, but lazy former college student desperately seeking a purpose in life.″

″Do you have to list every trope about yourself?″ I groaned. This was proving fruitless. ″Just tell me who you are, instead.″

″I don't really know. I'm trying to figure that one out.″

I sighed and got up. ″Yeah, I suppose I am too. Maybe with a bit of brainstorming we'll both reach a conclusion.″

I thought I knew myself pretty well. I was a resourceful coward with enough of a history to write a book series about. But this kid, only three days old, proved me wrong. I went upstairs and found an empty room. There was a mattress and a lava lamp. The air in that room gave off a nice chill. Even if the source of the chill was because that room was haunted, I wouldn't have minded being roommates with a ghost.

Maybe taking residence with these aliens will be good for me, I thought. It can give me time to think of just what it is that I really want. There has to be more to me than just self-preservation.

But three years passed and all I have gained is a restlessness. I didn't have some deeper understanding of who I was or what I wanted out of life, but I knew these three years of nothing would soon culminate in something much bigger than anything I've encountered before.

I found Blanc sitting with some Beiges, chatting about metaphysics or whatever it is they talked about. Whatever topics those aliens were interested in, I just knew they were lame ones.

″Hey, wanna get out of here?″ I asked, which got Blanc to perk up.

We walked toward the large doors where my ship was.

″Are we going to get pizza again?″ Blanc asked.

I shook my head and grinned. ″I was thinking of getting out of here for good. We'll even leave Conrad behind.″

To my surprise, a smirk grew on Blanc's face.

″It's about time. I've been planning to do the exact same thing for a while, but I don't know a damn thing on how to pilot your ship.″

″Excellent!″

I walked up to the fridge and peered at its contents. There appeared to be moldy food and nothing at all appetizing. Even though it appeared that way, I knew the Beiges ate it with no problem. Each day I told myself ″I shouldn't knock it until I try it,″ even though I never end up trying it. I closed the fridge and re-opened it. Then I closed it again.

No, I shook my head. Today is not the day I'll try their gross looking food. Maybe tomorrow.

I opened it again. Maybe I'll just poke it. It doesn't smell all that bad, at least. Just looks it.

I reached my finger toward the slimy and furry substance only to pull it back.

Come on, you're not that stupid.

I closed the fridge for the last time. When I looked up, one of the elder Beiges was there.

″Your friend Velvet opened the door leading outside. It was a hot day. She closed it, but the damage was already done. You should get her a glass of water,″ they explained.

″Velvet's not really my friend. We're more like roommates who try to get along, even if they have no common ground,″ I also explained, but then thought it over. ″Actually, she's like an older sister.″

The elder Beige walked away, which led me to snap to my senses. ″Right! Water!″

I reached into the cupboard and grabbed a glass, then filled it with water. I didn't want her to die, and she probably would have come back as a ghost only to complain about how lame her death was. I didn't want her to do that, either. If she wanted to die, she probably wanted a cool death. Like being shot by a laserbeam against a shark alien pirate in a gunfight.

My breath was shortening, my heart was racing. I didn't know how much longer I could go. Luckily, I didn't have to go any longer: it was just around the corner. Also it was pretty pathetic of me to be so out of shape.

I was about to reach down and save her, but in my rush, I tripped over the carpet.

Water splashed in her face. She rose to her feet, wiping it off and looking ready to raise hell.

″It looked like you needed some,″ I explained, nervous as I was. I never meant to throw it at her. I made a gesture with the glass in an attempt to lighten the situation.

Instead, she chewed me out.

″In my mouth, not on my face!″

I did my best to hold back my laughter.

″Take it to the bedroom!″ One of them chortled. I spat.

Come on, guys! Really?

Velvet was fuming. I had to do damage control.

″You have to admit, that sounded pretty lewd,″ I pointed out.

You did it. You're saved.

Or so I thought. But instead, she snatched the glass right from my hand.

″I should've been the one splashing water on your face!″ She growled and pretended to splash me. I flinched, as anyone would. Jeez. All I could do was watch as she walked away.

I let out a sigh and turned toward the Beiges. ″It's okay, she'll get me back later. I have a tendency to accidentally say lewd things as well. I'm sure she'll point it out.″

That's right. Velvet and I were too similar at times. It made me wonder what the real difference between us were. Sure, she had different hair than me, and identified differently. She also had some mysterious past whereas I was pretty bland. I didn't have any secrets like she did. But those were trivial, we were essentially the same person otherwise.

″You know,″ I told one of the elders once. ″I'm actually a clone of someone else. It's not really a bother, but...it means I haven't really been around that long and I'm essentially living in the shadow of someone else. Granted, that someone else was just as boring as me, but I'm just trying to figure out what makes me different, if anything.″

″You want to know what your 'self' is, yes?″ The elder questioned.

″I guess that's a good way to put it. Like, what even is the 'self'?″

″Sit down, child,″ the elder motioned. I was about to sit down when the elder spoke again. ″Never mind. Keep standing. This shouldn't take long to explain.″ The elder took a hit from a bong, then coughed before speaking once more.

″There is no 'self',″ they explained. ″Only a series of memories and chemicals reacting to one another.″

″Thanks,″ I replied. ″I don't feel any better, but I feel like I should have learned something.″

I decided to sit next to the elder Beige after all. Beiges were an incredible bunch with vast amounts of wisdom to share. Even if they were high most of the time when spouting such wisdom, I made it a duty of mine to listen as close as my ever fleeting attention span would allow.

″Funny thing about memory...the past me lived in an apartment. Well, I think it was still mine. Shit, they must've evicted me a long time ago by now. All my stuff must've been put in storage or given away at Goodwill or some auction or I don't know what else.″

″No matter. Material possessions are meaningless in the grand scheme of things,″ the elder reassured.

″I had a PS4 and an awesome gaming rig,″ I whined.

The elder's mouth went agape and stared at me. ″Why didn't you bring that shit with you, my dude?!″

″I didn't know I would get myself into this mess!″ I balked. Out of curiosity, I checked my phone. Still no signal. Ever since coming here I didn't have signal and even if I did, the last time the phone bill was paid was the same time my rent was paid. I slunk back, an utter mess.

″Ugh, Pokemon Go's probably at gen five by now.″

″Isn't that generally considered to be the worst generation?″ Velvet asked, poking her head from around the corner.

″What? Who told you that? There's a bunch of great Pokemon. Like...the otter pop, and...ice cream.″

″You're just hungry,″ Velvet teased.

″No! There's also...uh...garbage...and...pawn shop...also, uh...scopophobia! That's right!″

In my head, my Pokemon knowledge was known across the world, but my current audience just wasn't impressed. ″Well, I think it's pretty cool...″

I had to admit, even without Pokemon Go, real life had been pretty cool as well. Who would have thought that I would evade being killed by an evil organization and meet a group of stoner aliens inside (and underneath) a pyramid?

″Mind passing the bong?″ I asked the elder.

″Certainly.″

Upon taking a hit, the current day faded and my consciousness returned to the day I was rescued on Velvet's ship.

″This is all so cool!″ I admired. Indeed, not even in my faintest memories had I seen anything like it.

″It is, isn't it?″ Velvet smirked, leaning against the side of the ship. She may have had such a smug face, but if I owned a ship like hers, I would have boasted twice as hard. So to me, she was being modest.

I looked around for Euphoria. She would have loved to see it. Or maybe just being in awe of the ship would have made her happy, instead. Alas, she was nowhere to be found and I started to lose composure.

Not wanting to seem unhappy in front of anyone, I ran to the front of the ship where Conrad was seated. I tried asking him a few questions, but every little word he said just screamed ″you're annoying me.″ Even if it wasn't true, I didn't want it to become true. So after Conrad told me not to press any of the buttons, I went silent. It was nice of Velvet to step up for me, but I didn't need her to. She hardly even knew me.

When I turned around to see what she was up to, she was nowhere to be seen.

First Euphy, then Velvet. Here I thought my luck was impeccable, but I lost two girls in one day.

″Do you know where Velvet went?″ I asked Conrad.

″She's just sleeping. There's bunk beds in the back,″ he replied.

″I see.″

″It's been a long day for us,″ he explained.

And it hasn't been a long day for me? Do you have any fucking clue what I've been through? Any clue at all? What about how I feel right now? Does any of that factor in?

I brushed aside such thoughts and kept my mouth shut. He must have noticed my dismay, though, as he spoke up.

″Hey, I'm sorry for coming off so aloof,″ he began. ″It's just that watching a friend die can be a little...overwhelming.″

″Don't sweat it! I'm sure my previous self meant a lot to you!″ I sympathized.

Even though when I think about it, you were always this cold and detached. I don't know why it never occurred to me before, but I don't think me – any version of me – ever meant a damn thing to you.

Again, I shook off such thoughts. I was just being needlessly bitter. Just because he was a little socially awkward doesn't mean he was a monster. He meant well. Deep down in my heart, I knew.

″Hey, can I ask another question?″

He shrugged. ″Ask away.″

″Do you know anything about The Flashbulb being in possession of a being that can make anyone and anything 'happy'?″

″What do you mean?″

″Well...like...the ability to defy logic. If it made a brick wall happy to become a giant chocolate bar, the being would grant such a wish in an instant.″

″That doesn't make any sense,″ he dismissed. ″Brick walls don't feel emotions.″

″That's what I'm saying! It would defy logic!″

He shook his head. ″I've seen no such records.″

″Well, what about the ETNA project? Would such a being fall under that?″

″Etna is the ETNA project. Well, her and the elevator her company created.″

″But what if the company, or The Flashbulb, or something affiliated, had such a thing? What if it's an even more secret project? Like...the 'E' could stand for Euph...″ I started to say her name. The name I might have given her. I didn't want to seem crazy. ″Euphemia, maybe?″

Even with his hood scrunched up and glasses covering his shrunken eyes, I could tell there was nothing but confusion on his face.

″Euphemia?″

″Err...Maybe 'Effie' for short?″

″You're not making any sense,″ he grunted.

″I know,″ I pouted.

I tried following Velvet's lead and dozed off in the chair.

″YOU MANIPULATED ME!″ A voice screamed. One minute I was sitting down, the next I was standing in a vast darkness. Standing before me was a girl in an angel outfit.

″I did not!″ I protested.

″YOU AREN'T REALLY HAPPY! YOU SAID IT WOULD MAKE YOU HAPPY TO KNOW THE TRUTH ABOUT YOU! THEN YOU SAID IT WOULD MAKE YOU HAPPY TO PUNCH THAT HOLOGRAM! THEN YOU SAID YOU WERE HAPPY, BUT IT WASN'T TRUE! YOU STILL AREN'T HAPPY AND YOU WERE JUST USING ME!″

″It's...it's not like that! You made me happy, even if it was only in short bursts!″

She smiled a smile that stretched across the void. Her teeth, her lips, her tongue, surrounded me in a circle. She no longer had a face, just a mouth. Even still, she did not scare me. If anything, it was comforting to know that she was all around me.

″Is there any way I can see you again?″ I pleaded.

″IF YOU WISH TO SEE ME, YOU WILL FIND A WAY!″

Those words left me choked up. I swallowed an oasis of saliva. ″Are you still my guardian angel?″ I asked, in tears.

″I AM EVERYONE'S GUARDIAN ANGEL! I BRING HAPPINESS TO ALL!″

Electricity coursed through me, or so it felt that way. For second I thought Etna, hologram or human, was standing in front of me. But instead, my eyes were open. I was sitting next to Conrad in a ship set on auto-pilot. Out the window was a glittering blue sea.

″Are you okay?″ Conrad asked.

I don't think I was. My heart was beating at an uncomfortable pace.

″Yeah, I think I had a bad dream, is all,″ I replied in a huff, my hand over my chest. ″Say, are we really going to go to Africa?″

″We're already in Africa. We're just floating over a small body of water right now.″

″Okay. But what about when we get to Egypt?″

″We're already in Egypt. We're just floating over a small –″

″Yeah, okay,″ I groaned. ″So what, then?″

″We find the right pyramid and land.″

″How will we know which one's the right one?″

He growled, then slammed his fist on the dashboard. ″You ask too many questions,″ he replied.

″Well excuse me for being curious,″ I scoffed. ″You'd think you would ask too many questions, too, what with your mistrust of governments.″

He looked away. I made a mental note to count that as a victory.

″That's something Blanc would have said.″

″Well, duh, because I am Blanc.″

″Same name, different person.″

You're a loose end. There should never exist more than one of someone.

″Say, wasn't there another me after I threw my math homework into the elevator?″

″Yes, but they didn't last long,″ he replied, still looking away.

″So Etna didn't have to try to kill me after all?″

″Well...″ He was probably thinking it was because I trespassed into the company's lair, or that I knew too much.

″She said I was a mistake, that there shouldn't exist more than one of someone. She probably meant at a time, too, seeing as the one before me died and the one after me did as well.″

This time he turned back toward me and took off his glasses. His face was not something I wanted to see. I should have yelled ″put those back on!″ But I was at a loss.

″She must have known that. By all accounts, she should have come up with a better excuse to kill you.″

″Gee, thanks.″

″I don't understand. I'll have to think this over.″

″Eh, it's probably nothing,″ I shrugged. ″I suppose even evil geniuses have their moments of stupidity. It's not like she was great with words or anything.″

Something had him troubled, but I wasn't going to press. Not when we needed to concentrate on figuring out which pyramid housed these aliens. Conrad held out his laser pointer, pointing it to the tip of each pyramid. From what I gathered, the one whose tip would light up must have been the right one.

″This is like trying to find straw in a haystack.″

″You mean a needle,″ Conrad corrected.

″No, straw. Needles look way different than hay. Straw, though...″

Before I could finish my sentence, which was going to be just a few more words, anyway, a red flash shot up from below.

Upon looking down, I stood in awe as sands started shifting away from each other, forming a deep pit. Conrad lowered the ship, not even a little ″yes! We finally found it!″ As the ship lowered itself underground, next to an innocuous pyramid, the sands around us changed color to a redder and redder tint. I thought we were being swallowed up by a bloodied stomach.

Our surrounding grew darker and darker until a plate of some sort closed the surface back up. To my surprise, the sands didn't flow back inward and the only thing to encase us was darkness.

Conrad pulled himself out of his chair and pressed a button. Velvet's ship was made physical from the outside once more. He jogged to where the door was and pressed the button on the wall to lower the stairs. Wait. He jogged? Conrad didn't strike me as the type to have such energy.

As I followed close behind, stumbling through the darkness, we reached a dead end. Or so I thought. I pulled out my phone, the light being just enough to illuminate the wall. Turns out it wasn't a wall at all but a door, over a hundred feet tall.

I checked my phone; no signal. I sighed. Guess there would be no Pokemon Go for me.

″Should we knock?″ I wondered.

Conrad shook his head. ″We should wait for Velvet to wake up.″

″What's going on?″ Came a shout from the ship. Velvet must have just woken up right on time. Thank goodness, too. I wasn't the patient type.

″It's fine!″ Conrad called back. ″We're here!″ ″You coming or what?″ I yelled, inserting myself into the conversation.

″Yeah, yeah, gimme a minute!″ She shouted. Before Velvet got down, I decided to give the door a couple taps, too excited to wait for her.

Velvet shoved past Conrad and I and as soon as she got in front, we all saw what we had been waiting for: three tall figures, clad in blouses and hula skirts. Their skin lumpy, several warts covered their bodies, but none seemed to swell. Every inch of their body was the same pale sandy fawn color. Their eyes, although pitch black, seemed to illuminate the surrounding.

″I'm not saying it's aliens, but...″ I muttered.

″It's aliens,″  Conrad replied, not sounding the least bit amused or surprised.

One of them stepped forward and greeted Velvet.

″Greetings. You smell of pennies,″ they announced in a soft, matter-of-fact voice.

″What's that supposed to mean?″ she grunted.

″Relax,″ assured Conrad. ″That's just how they greet people.″

Velvet walked past the one who greeted her, looking pissed.

The second alien greeted Conrad next.

″Greetings. You smell of old cabbage,″ I made a mental note to sniff Conrad sometime. I'd have to confirm such a thing for myself.

Conrad didn't comment on his smell and went forward. That just left me.

″Greetings. You smell dank,″ the last one told me.

″Is that a good thing or a bad thing?″ I asked.

″It depends on if we can smoke you,″ the being simply replied.

I understood what they were getting at, but never in my life had I smoked weed, so it didn't seem possible. Maybe they were just smelling my sweat from all the peril I was in earlier.

″Ehehe...″ I gave a nervous laugh.

Velvet started making small talk with the aliens. I didn't catch a word, but all this talk about smells got me thinking.

″Hey, is there a shower in here?″ I interrupted. Showers tend to relax me after a good deal of stress. Or it helped relax the me that used to exist.

″Of course. Down the hall and to your left,″ they pointed forward.

I ran down the hall, leaving Velvet to continue her conversation. There were many halls, but I stuck to the one the alien pointed toward. Ever so brief, the thought of Euphoria, pointed me in the right direction, back when I was in the maze that was the ETNA Corporation's headquarters.

Hot water shot down, forming steam around the room. It was one of those sliding glass door showers, the bathroom itself pretty small, but it had all the things you would expect from a bathroom. All in all, pretty impressive for a race from another planet. But then again, maybe they had showers on their planet, as well.

The water soothed me, cleansing me of any doubts and worries. I grasped at the soap, gliding it against my chest, stomach, arms, legs, then face. After those were washed off, I reached for the bottle of shampoo, ready to get my hair all silky smooth.

All I reached for was an empty space, however. There was no shampoo. I should have figured, seeing as those aliens were bald, but it still disappointed me. I sighed and turned off the water.

After I got myself all dressed, I found the living room. Velvet was asleep in a chair. I was tempted to wake her, but decided against her. She'll wake up on her own, I figured.

Some of the aliens were sitting on a couch and taking hits from bongs. Scents of flowers filled the air, or some kind of plant, anyhow. It was a nice, inviting smell.

″Oh, hey, where'd Conrad go?″ I asked one.

″Took residence in a storage closet. Said they'd be busy for a while.″

″Ah. Well, what should I call you guys?″

″Your friend Conrad called us 'Beige'. You're free to do the same,″ one of the Beiges replied.

″That's easy to remember.″ Now that they mentioned it, they did have a rather beige look to them.

I took a seat in between the two. They didn't look all that threatening.

″Did you guys help the Egyptians build the pyramids? Hell, did you guys build them yourselves?″

All of them in the room stared at me. Then they laughed.

″We helped the Egyptians, sure. When we crash landed on Earth thousands of years ago, we brought the cannabis plant with us. We taught them how to grow dank kush. In return, they built a pyramid for us to in our honor.″

″So you didn't help with the pyramids, though?″

″Nah, brah. They were already there when we got here.″

I snapped my fingers. ″Well, that's one mystery solved!″

Velvet was still in a deep slumber. She must have been a heavy sleeper.

″What about you?″ The one sitting to my left asked. ″What brings you here? What's your story?″

″Well...I took an elevator and found myself in the lair of an evil corporation known as the ETNA Corporation. Though Conrad tells me they're really a front for a group called The Flashbulb.″

″Ah yes, The Flashbulb. Nasty bunch. But that's humans for ya!″

″Amen, bruh! Take a puff!″ Added another Beige.

″I was saved by this girl Velvet over here. We flew off in her ship and now I'm here,″ I explained further.

″Girl, boy, you humans are so strange.″

″What do you mean?″

″We Beiges don't have need for such thing as 'gender'. Hell, most of us don't even have names. Except Tim. We kept trying to talk sense into Tim, but the dude don't wanna listen.″

I smiled. These aliens were less alien than I thought. To me, they could have been the kindred spirits I had been looking for.

″I think I get it,″ I replied. ″I mean, I'm kinda the same way, but I guess I don't care so much how others see me. Or I care a lot, but I'm too tired to want to correct anyone.″

″That's a good way to be,″ one commended.

″I have a name, but I don't know if it really fits me. I'm not sure if I would change it, though. Maybe I'll grow into it. I feel like I'm living in a shadow, though.″

″Don't worry about it,″ the Beige to my right suggested. ″If you want a name, keep it. If you don't want one, throw it away.″

My smile remained. ″Thanks. I think I'm ha...″ I stopped, then corrected myself. ″I think I'm glad to be here.″

″You're welcome to stay as long as you wish. Or leave as long as you wish.″

″Is everyone welcome here? Is that how you have all these human things?″

An older Beige laughed a throaty laugh. ″Some mysteries, child, are best left unexplained.″

I sighed.

The following day, Velvet was still asleep. It was the day after when she finally awoke. She was hungry and I needed shampoo, so we both went out for a bit. Truth be told, I was a little hungry as well. When we got back, she decided to have a little heart-to-heart with me.

″Why don't you tell me a little about yourself? She asked.

″Well...″ I trailed off. The whole question caught me off guard. Was she some sort of therapist? ″I'm a brilliant, but lazy former college student desperately seeking a purpose in life.″

″Do you have to list every trope about yourself?″ She groaned. ″Just tell me who you are, instead.″

″I don't really know. I'm trying to figure that one out.″ I'm Blanc. I know that much. But just who is Blanc, when it all comes down to it?

″Yeah, I suppose I am too. Maybe with a bit of brainstorming we'll both reach a conclusion,″ she said after getting up and letting out a sigh.

There seemed to be a kindred spirit between Velvet and I, as well. Or maybe it was my lack of understanding of myself that made me see myself in everything around me.

After a year of wandering around the pyramid and venturing outside on occasion, one of the elder Beiges approached me. It also happened to be a rare moment where Conrad was outside of the room, or storage closet, as the Beige told me.

″Come with me. I have something to show you,″ the elder Beige instructed. I didn't question it, but let my heart pound at the anticipation of whatever it could be. Conrad squinted.

″What about me?″ He asked. He sounded suspicious.

″This is for the child Blanc only,″ the elder explained.

I got all giddy, rubbing my hands together. As the Beige led me to a door I hadn't been aware of before, I turned to Conrad and stuck my tongue out. Hell yeah I was gonna gloat.

When I reemerged, Conrad was still standing.

″What did the elder Beige show you? Was it a weapon of sorts? Don't believe a word the Beiges tell you. Remember they're our enemy. Were they trying to manipulate you? Did it work?″ Conrad interrogated. It was clear the guy was jealous as fuck, but I was ready to be the bearer of disappointing news.

″It was just a bong collection,″ I shrugged. ″Unless they're weapons of vapor destruction, I don't think it was anything special.″

Sure, I was selling what I saw short, but I had to. Conrad wouldn't have been able to handle it. He just didn't understand the simpler things in life.

Flash forward a couple more years and I was still living with the Beiges. They taught me many things, like how to weave baskets, how to make my own clothes, and how to properly use a bong. I knew I would have to leave them soon, however, and the day Velvet opened the door at the front of the pyramid, letting all the hot air in from the surface, and being mad at me when she was the one who said something lewd would end up being that day.

Funny thing was, for all the things they taught me, I wasn't even aware I would be leaving them that day. Velvet was off in the distance bitching out Conrad, and I was sitting with my Beige friends. That day, something came over me. It might have been the high I was experiencing, but I just had the strongest urge to confess something. Something that had been on my mind since living with them.

They must have sensed it, too. One of the elders spoke up.

″You look lost in love,″ they observed.

″Huh?″ I bolted. ″That's not it! I was just thinking of someone. Or someone I imagined.″

Recently, my dreams had been the same: the nightmare I had three years ago, on Velvet's ship.

″Tell us about this imaginary friend.″

Oh gosh, I thought. This was going to be so awkward.

″Well...she was like one of those manic pixie dream girl types,″ I began.

″Ramona Flowers?″ Another Beige chimed in. I shook my head.

″No, and not Zooey Deschenel, either. I mean, like, a literal manic pixie dream girl.″

Most of the Beiges started laughing. They kept telling each other what they thought a literal manic pixie dream girl looked like. None of those images quite matched, though. Only the elder seemed to remain interested.

″Go on,″ they instructed.

″Well, when I told you guys three years ago that I was saved by Velvet and Conrad, it wasn't exactly true. They brought me here, sure, but the one who saved me was someone, or something, else entirely.″

There were murmurs now.

″Go on,″ the elder once again said.

″She claimed she was my guardian angel. She floated around, calling herself 'Euphoria.' I thought Euphy was a better name and she took it. She claimed she wanted to make me happy. As we went through the company's underground base of operations in my city, she was able to bend reality, or so it seemed. She stopped guards from shooting them and made their weapons happy, made them happy, everything was about happiness when it came to her. Against all odds, and logic, she saved me from dying by the hands of a hologram known as Professor Etna. Even though Etna claimed that her company, and I guess by extension, The Flashbulb, controlled Euphy.″

″Could it be?″ One muttered.

″No way...″ Muttered another.

They all looked freaked out, like someone just called the cops. It must have been the paranoia setting in.

I decided I should add just one more thing. ″I'm not sure if she was really there, though, or if I just had really good luck. I mean, my memories are really fuzzy and I could have just made the whole thing up. Even still, I haven't felt her presence since that day and to this day, I feel a certain emptiness.″

There was a short pause before the elder spoke up once more.

″If The Flashbulb claims to be in possession of something like that, they're done for,″ the elder laughed. It wasn't a genuine laugh, but one of fear. ″They've really done it this time. We're ALL screwed!″

″What do you mean?″ I asked.

″We have tales of such a being. No one knows where it comes from, or if it has an origin at all, but its actions are the same wherever it goes: each world it visits, happiness is spread. We never thought we would hear of such a being again.″

″How is that a bad thing?″

″You don't understand. Happiness, true happiness, is not an emotion. It is a state. Many, including The Flashbulb, would consider it a calm, a sense of contentment. But that's not it at all. What this being brings is a state of destructive bliss. A terrible mania. The Flashbulb probably thought they could control it, use it to further their goals, but they will learn the awful truth: that it cannot be controlled. It cannot be contained. It acts on its own desires, volition, and if let loose, will bring about a swift end to the Earth.″

I gulped. ″Well, if it's been three years and nothing's happened, she must have left, right?″

″We can only hope. Otherwise we're all doomed! Doomed, bruh!″

″I...I...what if I...″ The words were trying to form. No, not just the words. Who I was, what I was meant for. I finally knew what I wanted. ″What if I were to talk to her? Convince her to do the right thing and let things be? Or convinced her to use her abilities to benefit the world?″

″'She' cannot be reasoned with. 'She' cannot simply be talked to. What do you care, anyway? You should be lucky she's gone and you still have your mind intact!″

″She made me happy!″ I shouted, my own voice scaring me. The elder didn't seem deterred.

″That's what 'she' does. You're just experiencing withdrawal.″

″I don't care! I want to see her...just one more time...″ Tears began to well up, but I wiped them away. It was dumb to cry; I knew how I would do it.

″Semi-related question: is there any way to create more than one of you without cloning yourself or making a hologram?″

″No. Why do you ask?″

″No reason!″ I answered, grinning now. Another elder, one who wasn't present, probably knew why I asked.

″I'll find a way. I'll bring happiness to the world and save it as well!″ I declared.

″Child, your motivation is admirable. If you do not succeed, you are welcome back here.″

″Thank you,″ I replied with complete sincerity, even though I already knew I would succeed.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Healer Chapter Six

I made a terrible mistake. In the middle of my restless night, a rustling could be heard nearby. The others were asleep, save for a few keeping watch. That fact did not ease the dread I felt.

″Everything will be alright. That rustling could be anything. One of us, a creature, the wind, anything.″

I repeated those words to myself in the softest whisper I can muster, taking care not to wake up the soldier sleeping next to me. I closed my eyes. After mouthing the same assuring words, I tried to fall asleep.

With a jolt, I awoke. My chest ached from all the hyperventilating. The labored breathing, heaving forward and back. I witnessed a murder before my eyes. There was no tent, not anymore. I was in shadowed space, the environment shaping around me. Before long, I knew where I was: the temple I was held in years ago. My father standing before me in his suit of armor. He was no longer a soldier, but his stubborn nature refused to let him take it off.

″You should have healed me when you had the chance!″ He scowled, his voice the harshest bark I ever heard from him. Through his chest was a long blade, blood dripping from both the tip of the blade, the gaping hole in his chest, and his mouth. Yet his words were all the more clear.

Standing next to him were two demons, one of them held the blade that was pierced through my father, the other doing nothing. Nothing at all but standing there. In my eyes, that was a worse offense than being the killer.

″Say something! Do something! Why are you just standing there?″ I yelled to the demon.

My father raised his voice further, surrounding the halls.

″She can't heal me! You can!″

His anger, whether or not uncharacteristic, shook me to the core. I wanted to scream, cover my eyes and ears. My hands betrayed me; they didn't even try to reach out. My eyes, too, would not obey. They remained wide open, watching him stabbed. Over and over and over and –

″Hey?″ I heard, but not from any of the figures in the temple. The temple disappeared. Against my shoulder was someone's hand. I turned my head, all ready to hit whoever dared lay a hand on me.

It was the soldier who slept in the tent with me. My hand was raised in the air, but I managed to stop myself.

″Are you okay?″ She asked.

I lowered my hand and placed it against my chest. My breathing slowed back down. With a forced smile, I answered her.

″Yeah, it's just something that happens. Bad dreams. I'm used to it, though.″

″Aye. Not good for someone so young to be having.″

She laid back down and turned to the side, facing away from me.

I tried to lay back down as well. Worry struck me, however, when I heard the rustling outside grow louder.

I nudged her.

″How likely are we to be ambushed?″ I asked.

″We have people outside keeping watch,″ she grumbled, annoyed that I would even suggest such a thing.

We moved forward that morning. I stood in the back, surrounded by those poised with their shields. Birds flew out from forest clearings. Few things could be seen while my vision was obscured by these large figures and their weapons. Aside from the marching and the occasional birds flapping their wings and shaking the branches, there was scarce a sound.

So ill fitting, I thought. There should be trumpets. Some battle music. Something to get the blood flowing.

Blood was already flowing. Such thoughts were dense. They were terrible liars. It wasn't motivation that I needed; It was a distraction.

Screams shot forth.

″It begins!″ One of them yelled. Others yelled in response, charging into battle against an unknown foe. I recall hearing it was from our neighboring kingdom, but I had never seen our enemy in the flesh. They likely looked a little like us. Maybe a little different. This was a war. I had to tell myself that I would see people that in any other circumstances I might have befriended.

″Protect our healer!″ Rialthe called as I ran to the aid of the screech of a soldier who I could only assume was in pain.

When I ran, something pushed past the rows of soldiers and lunged forth. Metal hit my body, bruising my sides. Clouds of dirt formed, covering my back as I fell. I looked up to see what had hit me.

What I saw was not human, or at least not one that I was accustomed to; it wore bronze armor, something that must have belonged to the enemy kingdom, but the armor was all twisted up and some of it looked like it was lodged in its body. It looked less like it was wearing hard metal and more like tinfoil. Both the arms and legs of the creature were green, rotting flesh became apparent. Tendons hung out and were covered in small spikes. They looked more like thorns. The limbs themselves looked less like limbs and more of a series of vines, only held together by large chunks of meat.

The thing wore no helmet, having no need. It definitely had features of a human head, but it was so stretched out, as if to be a saggy lump of clay. Covering the face was a series of thorns, pock marks making up whatever the thorns didn't cover. The soldier, if I could even call it that, and not a monster, had eyes bulging out, and its jaw widened to such an effect that I was sure it would swallow me whole.

Was this it? Was I about to die before healing anyone on the battlefield?

Even if I could be relieved that I might no longer carry such a responsibility, I couldn't help but feel like my whole being was leaving my body as I went cold. Everything evaporated from me. I felt as if I would float over my body and see that it was not me, but a statue made to look like me, frozen in time.

Red bolts shot into the creature's side and back, knocking the creature off of me.

″God damn it!″ Rialthe shouted. ″What did I tell you guys?″

Good. She had my back. I looked over to her, the one who shot the arrows at the beast.

Her face was not all cheery like I had seen of her before. It said one thing and one thing only: move.

It started as a crawl, but I did not want to wait to see if that creature would move again. I went on all fours before picking myself up, hunched over, making hoarse breaths. When I saw the soldier that I wanted to help in the first place, I got to my knees. Both hands shook, and I could only use one to heal, the other covering my mouth. The sight of so many gashes and mangled flesh made me want to throw up on the spot. Swirling mixtures of red, purple, green, and brown made up a stew that my eyes refused to digest.

I closed them and pressed my free hand over each wound. An unpleasant squish could be felt, but I had to endure. Each wound closed and with each repair, I could feel what little strength I had leave me. When I opened my eyes, I saw the soldier pick himself back to his feat and charge back into battle. I let out a sigh of relief.

The scene played out with each soldier blocking the attack of these abominations and striking back with full force. Swords being shoved into skulls, heads ripped off and thrown off into the air. There's no sympathy to be had, I told myself. Those things simply aren't human.

I watched as one's arm transformed into a series of blades. There was no explanation I could give other than what it looked like: the blades never being created from the flesh but rather the flesh retracting to reveal the blades that lie within. All I could do was watch, at least during the period in which I saw said blades dig into the chest of one of the soldiers. The soldier turned around. I was unaware whether or not he saw me, but for a moment I was certain he had the face of my father.

I winced. It was playing out all over again. Was I just going to let this happen?

No. I won't.

But lightning must have struck me somewhere. My legs took a step back rather than a step forward. I tried looking away, but the images permeated. I don't know how I managed, but before I could compose myself I found my hand on the back of the soldier. I must have gone numb; tips of the blades caught the palm of my hand, scraping it.

There was still a pulse, I noticed, even after the creature drew the blades away. Using as much of my weight as I could, I held the soldier up and somehow found myself still able to heal the soldier. I had no time to be amazed at my own strength, as I was trying to support the both of us. He wheezed and coughed blood, but with an awkward swing, sliced the creature in half.

He wobbled to and fro. I leaped out of the way before he fell. Whether or not he would die after all, I could no longer muster a thought. I passed out beside the person I had saved.

Right before the battle, Rialthe caught me outside my tent. I was having cooked sausage in front of a campfire, something I wasn't used to eating. Not to say I didn't like it, it was delicious, but I had a feeling it would be an acquired taste.

″Beryle tells me you had trouble sleeping,″ she brought up.

″Oh, is that her name?″ I asked, seeing if I could change the subject. She wasn't swayed.

″Anything you would like to tell me?″

″Yeah,″ I mentioned. ″She snores!″

Rialthe laughed. ″That may be true, but you'll find all of us do.″

I didn't know how to take that information, but I sunk my head low. I didn't know how perceptive she was but I was telling lie after lie each encounter I had with her.

She sat down next to me and placed her hand on my back. I straightened up and scowled.

″What do you think you're doing?″

She let go. ″I'm sorry. You don't like being touched?″

″That's not it,″ I shook my head. ″But you're still a stranger and, and, and...it was so sudden!″

She chuckled. ″That's true. I apologize.″

I refused to change my tone. I just turned away from her, crossed my arms, and said ″good″.

She took a sip from her mug. Every now and then I would steal glances, to which she would smile and occasionally make a slurp, but otherwise stay silent.

I took a deep breath. I had trouble dealing with silence. She was still sitting next to me, so surely she had something more to say.

″I'm not sure how much use I can be...″ I spoke up.

She set her mug down on the ground and wiped her mouth.

″I'll be honest, we can go on without you.″

I lowered my head. Maybe that's something I wanted to hear, but it stung.

″With you by our side, we have a much greater chance of survival. Many of the soldiers that come to the infirmary are already close to death. Some of them already dead.″

She didn't have to tell me that. I worked there. I already knew.

″Even if you only heal one or two of us in the midst of battle, it's much better than what you were doing back at the castle,″ she added. ″But, we can go on without you. We have a medic on staff. We have bandages, anesthesia, and drugs.″

″So what you're saying is you can make do without me?″

″What I'm saying,″ she corrected. ″Is that your safety is just as important as ours. If you don't think you can handle this, I'll personally take you back to the castle, no questions asked.″

″Hey, didn't we have this conversation at least twice already? I already told you I'm in!″ I reassured her. Or myself.

″This time's different, kid. After everyone's ready, we'll be heading out. We want to be prepared against the enemy before they have a chance to strike us. If you don't want to leave now, we won't be able to bring you back for at least another few days.″

When she told me that, I should have let go of my pride and admitted that I wanted to go back.

I awoke in my sleeping bag right outside the bonfire circle where soldiers were huddled up. I don't recall any night terrors, but there was a hope that what I saw on the battlefield was one.

I rubbed my eyes and walked over. Rialthe noticed me heading toward the circle and got up.

″Hey, how are you feeling?″ She asked.

″Exhausted,″ I yawned.

″Oh yeah, I bet.″

We walked around while the others had their own conversations around the campfire. Despite the desert around us, we made our way into a small forest area where a pool of water lay. I undressed and made my way in. She dipped her feet, but stayed in the grass.

″This feels nice,″ I sighed. The water was still and warm.

Rialthe sat down. She sighed as well, but it conveyed the opposite feeling.

″We should have been more careful with you back there,″ she muttered.

″Huh?″

″You could have been seriously hurt,″ she raised her voice.

″Oh, well, I'm fine,″ I dismissed.

″Are you?″

I shook my head. I couldn't believe I was about to admit something. ″No. What were those things?″

″Mutations. Former soldiers infused with blood of demons.″

″Demons? I thought those didn't exist.″

″Weren't you around a few years back when the neighboring kingdom invaded with soldiers possessed by demons?″ She asked, but before I could speak up, stopped herself. ″No, I guess you probably didn't hear about that.″

″I might have heard some commotion, but wasn't sure what was going on.″

″That might be for the best. Things have really changed.″

She left me to myself. Moments passed and I watched the sun set. It wasn't until the sky turned darker that I heard someone running toward me.

Please don't be one of those demon mutations, I thought.

Rialthe entered the clearing.

″Don't mean to barge in, but one of our soldiers is dying!″ She panicked.

″Want me to try to heal them?″ I asked.

She shook her head. ″No. Just comfort her until it's her time.″

I wasn't much of a doctor or a nurse. My job may require me to be by someone's side in painful times, but I wasn't known for my bedside manner. Ann would have backed me up on that one and we weren't the type to agree on anything. I wonder what she was up to back at the castle. She must have been overjoyed when she found out I wasn't there.

″I'll see what I can do,″ I told her.

In the tent lay a woman in her 40s with purple hair and a ponytail off to one side. She was running a high fever, and I didn't recall seeing her in the midst of battle. I wasn't so sure what the big deal was.

″I can probably cure you of your fever...″ I muttered.

She coughed. ″Don't,″ she spoke, her voice hoarse.

″Why not?″

″I'm not what I used to be. Even without a fever, I've been sick for years now.″ Didn't she know that I could cure illnesses as well? I wasn't one to boast about my abilities, far from it seeing how limited I was, but she was just being stubborn.

″I can probably...″ I began, but she put a finger up to my mouth. I leaned back, not wanting her to touch me.

″I'm not fit for fighting. I will die tonight, the gods have already told me so.″

I wanted to sneer and say ″what gods?″ but I refrained myself.

″There is but one thing I want from you before I go,″ she groaned.

″What might that be?″

″I am survived by my son. Make sure no harm comes to him.″

He was probably back at the castle. If she was going to make this tent her death bed, by all means, I would humor her. ″Do you want me to go back and watch over him?″

″No...he ran off to a temple, not far from here.″

Oh, no. This is not what I signed up for.

″How do you know he's there?″

″I saw it in a dream. He believes there to be treasure there. Find him, make sure no harm comes to him.″

I walked out in a huff, not about to listen to another word. No way. There is no way I'm going back there.

Rialthe saw me storm out. ″How did it go?″

″She's gone. Nothing I can do,″ I responded through gritted teeth.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Happiness Overload Chapter Seven

T'was a night like any other: a night where I'd get ta slaughter anotha' po' sap. Knew it right as I stood in tha lab wit' good ol' Dr. Etna, head o' tha Etna Corp and creator o' tha ETNA project. Neva 'eally cared fo' titles or profession. All tha' really matters, 'nyway 's tha' far's I'm concerned, my life's 'n 'er hands.

″The one you are after will be approaching tonight. You will get your chance,″ she told me. ″You know what to do. You were made for this.″

Broad 'as righ', o' course. Ah didn't break outta jail so I could settle down. Li'l cunt'll rue tha day 'ey went 'n' escaped. Wit' my trusty hacksaw, my pants 'ere a itchin' fo' blood.

Too many hallways. It was too hard to imagine just where any of them led. Too many dangers, too much unknown. This whole place was too much of a maze. It. Was. All. Too. Much.

I clutched my head. If only I had four arms, I would have clutched my chest, as well. Both were pounding and it didn't help that a loud girl couldn't keep her mouth shut in spite of the threat of armed guards at every corner. At least this place itself was silent enough that I could have made out their footsteps.

″I'M SO HAPPY TO BE WALKING WITH BLANC!″ Euphy skipped along the hallway. If she knew she were in any danger, she didn't show it on her face.

I shushed her. ″Can't you see we're in trouble here?″ I asked, my voice hushed.

″THERE'S NO TROUBLE TO BE HAD WHEN YOU'RE HAPPY!″

I sighed. If I were being honest with myself, I had a strong doubt that I would survive this ordeal. At the least, I wanted her to be safe. This cute girl I didn't even know.

Footsteps could be heard. Marching. Getting louder. Of the other doubts I had, there was little that the owners of said footsteps were armed guards, coming our way.

″Run!″ I jolted up and grabbed her hand. She started blabbing, but I drowned her out.

As soon as we came to a crossroads, I stopped. We could have gone forward, left, or right.

″Which way leads to the exit?″ I demanded, my breath getting short. No way was I in good shape and I knew it wouldn't be long before I couldn't run.

″LEFT!″

I nodded. I knew which way I had to go, then.

″Good. You go there. I'll go right.″

She put her hands on my shoulders. Her mouth was opening wider and wider, ever so slow. If she didn't hurry up and run, float, skip, or whatever else she did, we would both be dead. She didn't seem to care.

″WOULD THAT MAKE YOU HAPPY?″

I felt like a blood vessel was about to burst. I didn't have time for this. But I didn't want to yell at someone so pretty, either.

″Yes. Very much so. Will you go, now?″

She jumped to the left without another word.

Now that that was out of the way, I was free to bide as much time as I could, try to figure some way to survive just a little longer.

Pit of darkness and despair. That may as well be the place I entered. I cracked my knuckles and the mini-Ecstasy on my shoulder followed suit. We were ready to beat some ass to hell and back.

From the other end of the pit, a hidden door opened up, smoke spilled forward and a burst of light could be seen as a figure emerged, holding in their arms what must have been a rather large saw blade.

″Oi, cunt! Ya ready ta go?″ He bellowed. I recognized that voice right away; my archenemy.

″I've been waiting for this moment for a while now. Ready to exact my revenge,″ I called back with a grin slapped right on my face. The figure I so hated must have also been grinning. It disgusted me.

Just as the door closed, and darkness embraced me, spotlights shone onto the floor. I noticed the pile of corpses on my feet.

Gross. This must be the garbage chute, I thought.

Indeed, replied Ecstasy. Where the old bodies decompose while the clones take their place.

Maggots and other creatures of the insect world feasted upon thousands upon thousands of bodies, piled on and compacted to make one smooth floor. There was an overpowering smell, but I only smelled the chance to exact my revenge. Rotting flesh had no effect on me at this point.

″'Memba me name, mate?″ Asked the obvious, banging his fists together, seeming to disregard the fact that he was also holding a rather long hacksaw.

″How could I forget the name of the one person I wanted to kill?″ I remarked. ″Anchovy, wasn't it?″

″No!″ He spat. ″AL-BA-CORE! Get I' righ'!″ And with that, he ran toward me with his giant hacksaw, ready for a killing. Just as I was.

Along the corridors were several rooms. I turned each knob, but each were locked. It wouldn't be long now. I was making too much noise. Wasting too much time. I was going to be shot dead and my short life would come to a close.

At least, that's what I thought, until I saw a door ever so ajar. Never did I consider that there could be guards on the other side of the door, instead I pulled it open and slammed it shut without a second thought.

Inside was a large monitor, some buttons, and a few lockers. I didn't have much time to inspect the place. I could still hear footsteps. One of the lockers was open and in my desperation, I squeezed myself in, too full of fight-or-flight to be amazed at how well I fit inside. Too full of dread to panic when I closed the locker on myself, not for a second worrying that I would be stuck in there.

The running footsteps ran by without the door opening or anyone stepping in. Before I could let out a sigh of relief, however, smoke filled the locker, already obscuring my vision of what surrounded me, not to mention made me feel like I was suffocating. I tried to hold my breath; if I were to cough, those soldiers would be sure to hear and storm in guns blazing.

With a pop, the locker opened up and I fell to the floor with a loud thud. My body felt a stinging surge and for some reason, it still felt as dark as it did when I was in that locker. I picked myself up, my clothes feeling bulkier. No footsteps could be heard this time. I checked out my hands; some metallic gloves were on me. I didn't yet put two and two together until I saw a reflection of myself on the monitor: a full suit of armor covered me. Similar in appearance to those guards in the transit station and the ones chasing Euphy and I down the halls. Wherever she was, I hoped that she was okay.

I couldn't open any of the other lockers, but I imagined the same way it got put over me must be how those mercenaries or whatever it is they were, got dressed. It didn't really seem plausible, though. I tried imagining some hunk of muscle like Dwayne Johnson trying to fit inside a locker. The image just didn't form. I shook my head, the helmet covering it not allowing me to turn it completely.

I walked back toward the door feeling a little more calm, my heart rate going back to normal. Now I could sneak around. I could blend in and none of those other guards, soldiers, mercenaries, whatever they are, would dare approach me. I felt like Solid Fucking Snake.

As soon as I opened the door, however, I was met once again with footsteps. I looked to my left and sure enough, they spotted me. Fear once again came a knockin' on the door to my heart. I didn't know what to do. I wasn't prepared for the possibility that they would actually approach me.

″Hey! What are you doing?″ One of them demanded, running up to me holding a rifle in their arms. Maybe that's what I was missing. If I had a rifle on me, I'd blend right in.

″I..uh..″ I tried to speak, noticing that my voice was similar to theirs. Somewhat muffled. I sounded like Darth Vader and I even looked it. Their armor was like a gold plated Darth Vader costume with tubes all over the place and green paint streaked across. On second thought, they looked kind of like one of those space marines in a video game, like Halo or something. Maybe they were from the future and used a time machine to get here.

″BLANC! THERE YOU ARE!″ Another voice called, much more high pitched. From the opposite end of the hall came running the figure of Euphoria as she crashed right into me with a tight hug.

I looked at those two approaching me and tried coming up with an alibi.

″What is she doing here? Don't you know to shoot trespassers on sight?″ The demands kept coming.

″I...uh...she's my daughter,″ I stammered.

The two turned and looked at each other. Euphoria didn't seem the least bit bothered. She nuzzled the torso of the armor I was wearing.

″D-Didn't you guys know? It's 'Take Your Daughter to Work Day' today.″

″Oh shit! That was today?″ One asked.

″I thought it wasn't until next week,″ the other pointed out.

″Shit! If I had known, I'd have brought my daughter.″

I can't believe this is working, I thought, sweat rolling down my face. Sweat from nervousness supplemented by the sweat from such a heavy and stuffy suit.

″Hey, watch your fuckin' language!″ I scolded them. ″She's only 12,″ I added, pointing down to the thing hugging me.

″Shit, sorry! I thought she was at least 17!″

Before I thought I was off the hook, the other one found room to scold me.

″It's fine if you have her around, but don't forget that you're on duty. No slacking around. We're still searching for two escapees who should have been shot on sight. If you see them, you know what to do.″

I shuddered. Pretty sure they meant me, but it's not like I could just tell them ″hey I'm right here, shoot me.″

As soon as they turned the corner and I could no longer hear them, I removed the helmet and took a huge sigh of relief.

″Ugh, it was hard to breathe in that thing,″ I complained while wiping sweat off my forehead. Another thing I forgot to mention was that it felt like I was wearing stilts wearing this armor. I was definitely not as tall as the armor made me feel. I looked down at Euphy, who was still squeezing me.

″Why did you come back for me, anyway?″ I asked.

″I SENSED THAT YOU WEREN'T HAPPY,″ was her response, which was loud enough to blow my hair back. She stood up and put her hands on her hips, grinning wide.

″Alright, well, guess we should get a move on, huh?″

″Chester McLaren, famed serial killer, locked up in a maximum security prison,″ Conrad paced around reciting as he watched Blanc down in some kind of pits facing off against a madman.

″Said to have died of starvation in prison,″ he continued. ″But there are conflicting reports. Some say he escaped, while others said he died in prison.″

He looked up. I was content to let him keep talking on and on. I've already started packing my bags. Or one bag, anyway. As much as I could fit inside a small jet. Whenever he got what he wanted out of watching Blanc, we would both head out.

″In reality, both of those reports are correct: The Flashbulb had a way to replicate his body while letting the original rot away in prison, as it should have.″

″How do you know this?″ I asked.

″Do you question my sources?″ He responded. As if he had any. Sure, after some of the shit I've seen, it wouldn't surprise me if what he said was true.

″No. Why would I question something you just say without provocation and with such confidence as to make it sound like fact?″ I mused.

I couldn't see Conrad's eyes, but I could sense a deathly glare.

″Was that...sarcasm?″

″No. Never.″

Just when I thought I would catch him surprise, he ducked underneath my punch and bit into my side. Chunks of flesh tore off and I could feel blood spilling. But it was an odd feeling in that I felt little to none of it. I was only aware of what was going on.

″Ow, the edge!″ I mocked, then retaliated with shadowed masses swirling across the punk dude's body and making various cuts. I couldn't get a clear picture but I could hear little hisses of pain. I relished in the agony in the air.

″Tha fuck, mate?″ He spat as he shoved his oversized hacksaw into my chest.

The saw tore through my insides as it came out the other side. I wasn't sure if it hit my heart but if it did, would I have even died? I wasn't sure. I wasn't even sure what my thoughts were. But I knew that blood spilled forth from my mouth as I reeled forward. I knew that short after, a moan of pure ecstasy spilled forth, disregarding or relishing in my own blood.

My arms grabbed the hacksaw and pulled it out from my chest. Shadows filled the missing chunks of skin and whatever guts I had. As soon as the hacksaw was out from me, I jumped back and stood a few meters away, still hunched back.

″Y-You think you're so tough?″ I inquired, a grin spreading across my face. I wondered if my teeth were just as jagged as this punk I wanted so badly to kill.

″FUCK YOU, MATE! I DRINK GLASS CLEANER ON THE DAILY!″ He roared, positioning himself in sort of a ″come at me″ stance.

″I'm pretty sure you'd die, but okay,″ I stood up now, a blank expression replacing my previous grin.

He charged at me with his hacksaw, ready to saw my arms off or my legs or even just rip me to shreds. Before I had time to react, a shadowy mass in the shape of an arm grew from the pores of my body and grabbed the hacksaw.

″'Ey! Leggo, ye cunt!″ Albuquerque (I think that's his name) grunted.

Rather than use it against him and kill him on the spot, I flung it across the room. I expected him to run for his weapon but instead he cannonballed into me instead, sprinting at speeds I didn't think imaginable.

″Oi! T'ink I needs a weapon, mate?″

He tried ramming his head into my stomach, but I turned just in time and he went barreling into the wall on the other side of the room. Just as he turned around, shaking off the head injury, I swiped at his back with the shadowed tentacles writhing from my open wounds.

Several little cuts formed and yet he remained undeterred.

I'm losing the thrill. I need to stop playing with my food, came thoughts. Ecstasy didn't have a response to them, but I didn't seem to mind. My very actions contradicted with my very thoughts; I wanted nothing more than to taunt and torment my would be killer before I finally got the revenge I so deserved.

I balled my fist. Before I could even get close to him, I tripped over a corpse and fell on the back of a few mangled corpses. The punk's laughter echoed in the darkness.

″Jus' made me whole job easier, mate!″ He cackled. As I struggled to make my way back up, only to slip on another body, he ran toward me.

Come on, get up! I thought a thought that could have been said by anyone in such a situation. The next sensation I felt however wasn't the struggle to get up followed by the aching one feels when they're sore all over and in pain as they stand up to their feet. Instead, I felt a swift kick in the stomach and blood that I didn't know I still had flew out of my mouth.

″Da's righ'! I don' need no 'acksaw! I gots me feets!″ He gave another heart cackle as he pulled something out of his pocket: a baton. I should have known he would have that. He had that same baton the first time I saw him back at the station.

He began beating my back with the baton, bruising my already bloody and torn body.

I was a fool to ever think I could get my revenge. A fool to think it would have been so easy. A fool to think I wouldn't get beaten up so badly by someone who wore something so...tacky. I mean, come on? What was he going for? Sex Pistols cosplay?

″Ya got me goo' fo' a bit there, mate! Bloody nasty, I tell ya wha'! Good fer ya tha' I'mma massachis' as well as sadis'! Kudos!″ He cheered my efforts while beating me senseless. Not that I had much sense before he started beating me, anyway.

I yawned. Conrad was staring at the multiple screens with such great intent at his friend being beaten up (if that could even constitute as his friend anymore) that I worried he would go blind. I was slouched against the desk, only making passing glances when I thought Conrad might be looking over to make sure I was paying attention as well. Of course I wasn't. This shit didn't concern me.

What did concern me was a distinct sound echoing just outside the door. It was faint at first but now it had me a little on edge.

″Conrad, we should go,″ I muttered, half-asleep.

″Not now. Don't you want to see if Blanc will defeat Chester, who for some reason is calling himself Albacore?″

″Conrad, we don't have time,″ I said a little louder.

″I don't want to miss it, tho--″ He was about to go on, as if it mattered whether we saw it as a recording or in real time. As if watching it at all even mattered. Why did he care when he wasn't even going to step in to help his so-called ″best friend″? He would have gone on, too. I was sure of it. The only thing stopping him was my sudden burst of energy I felt getting out of my seat and grabbing the top of his stupid hoodie and slapping his glasses right off of him.

His eyes were shrunken back into his skull, wrinkles and dark spots surrounding. It looked like a spreading virus. I never noticed before but his whole face looked much more shrunken than some kid in their early 20s had any right to look. More skeleton than human, as if I just entered the middle of a story by H.P. Lovecraft. I had to get hold of myself, look away from the horror that was beneath those glasses the whole time, and face the facts. We were in serious trouble.

″LISTEN TO ME! THERE ARE ARMED SOLDIERS COMING FOR US AT THIS VERY MOMENT! ANYTHING WE'VE DONE UP TO THIS POINT, IT WON'T MATTER IF WE'RE DEAD!″

He raised his hand, even though his arms were shaking. I looked down to see a wet spot on his crotch. I would have gone back into my usual never ending fit of laughter if not for the fear I was facing at that very moment. He was in fear. Both of my strength and likely of the same thing I was afraid of. Still, he spoke.

″You know, you shouting at me probably just alerted them to our location,″ he pointed out, with his shaky index finger pointing up, as if to make some point.

″What you just said was pointless,″ I growled. That was the breaking point.

He leaned down to pick up his glasses. I noticed that the frames had shattered on the metal floor. Oops. He put them back on anyway. I could still make out those poor excuses for eyes. They looked more like white slugs that crawled into caves and those caves just happened to have the title ″eye sockets″.

″My god, man. When's the last time you've slept?″ I muttered in spite of the footsteps drawing closer.

″Justice never sleeps,″ me mutters, then tapped his foot. ″How did they find us anyway?″ He pondered.

″Really?! You're going to pace and chalk it up to some trivial thing?!″

As incredulous as I was, I was much more dumbfounded when a hatch opened up beneath us.

″This rabbit hole goes deeper. Let's hop in,″ he said before putting his hands cross on his shoulders and jumped in. The soldiers must have stopped right outside the door now. Just a second of silence before gunshot fire railed against the door, the sound startling me back. I fell on my butt. I was lucky enough that the door was bulletproof, but it wouldn't take long before they found some way to knock it down.

I looked down the hole. I was about to jump when I noticed a ladder, so I climbed down instead. I reached my hand up to try to close the hatch, but I couldn't find any handle, and gave up on any further attempts. As I climbed down, I noticed the hatch closing on its own.

″Well I'll be,″ I remarked. I climbed down as fast as I could, not able to see what was below me.

Before long, I reached solid ground once more. I could hear the sound of the soldiers ransacking all the equipment we had, shooting it down as if they had an unlimited supply of bullets.

″They're probably going to eat my pop-tarts,″ I whined.

Something tugged at my leg. I yelped and kicked at whatever it could have been.

″Ow! Ow! What the fuck, Velvet?″ It was Conrad.

″Shit, sorry!″ I looked up and could still hear them thrashing about. They didn't hear us, thank goodness.

″What are you doing on the floor, anyway?″ I asked.

″There's a panel, but we can't fit through on our knees.″

″So we actually have to slither rather than crawl?″

″Precisely.″

″Greeeeaaaat,″ I groaned. Contrary to popular belief, I was not some secret agent who loved sneaking around in vents.

Conrad lifted the panel and went through first. I followed close behind him. I tried making idle chatter to ease the tension.

″I can't believe there was a place underneath our base the whole time,″ I brought up before Conrad shot me down.

″You and I both know that's not true.″

I scoffed. ″Fine. How much do you know?″

″Not enough.″

I didn't hear anything else for at least another minute.

He lifted me up by my cuff and I squirmed to no avail. My struggle made him laugh. It was disgusting. I should be the one laughing, not him. I tried headbutting him, but he held his baton up to my jaw.

″Oi, mate! Still gotta figure ou' jus' whatta do wit' ya!″ He stamped his foot. ″Mayb' take yer head 'n' make a candle outta it, aye?″

″I...I...″ I tried forming words to say something. If I were to die here, I would want to die having said something meaningful. Something profound.

″Eh? Got som'thin', ya li'l cunt?″

″If...you were a character, you'd be Shadow the Hedgehog,″ I wheezed, then pushed my legs back as tentacles shot out of my back and flooded him before forcing him to the corpse covered floor.

As he fell, he took me with him, only this time I was the one on top. He leaned his head up and took a bite off my shoulder, tearing a chunk of flesh. To add insult to injury, at the same time he kneed me in the crotch. I screamed and tried to headbutt him, only to find that his head felt like a brick and I never took karate lessons. I felt like I lost more brain cells attempting that than if I were to watch a marathon of some animated sitcom with pointless cutaway gags and humor that 12 year old kids would laugh at, and that's saying something.

He grabbed my right arm with both of his hands and pulled on it with such force that it tore off. I screamed once again, but not for long. Something was flooding my senses.

What should have been blood instead oozed a sort of mass of blackness. The mass took the shape of what my arm used to look like and the newly formed hand at the tip of this replacement arm balled into a fist to perform one task and one task only:

Slam itself into the face of this punk who thought he was oh, so hardcore.

One punch. Two. Both fists, now. Just over, and over, and over. Not even a hint of resistance. His face was getting bloodied. Bruises and pus. Teeth were falling out.

It was clear he was dying, but he didn't try to beg. He didn't let out any indication in his voice of pain. If anything, he looked to be enjoying it.

″Any last words?″ I asked before I would land the final blow.

″Fuck you, I'm knuckles!″ he spat out, even with some missing teeth it was pretty clear to tell what he was saying.

I just laughed. I couldn't believe he would choose that of all things. ″Oh my god, what a nerd!″ I jeered, then punched his lights out.

We continued our trek through wherever we were. I had to wear this suit the whole time just in case another set of those soldiers, guards, military police, whatever they were, showed up, but we were safe for now.

″It would make them happy to kill us but I would be happy not being killed by them. Seems like quite the impasse, wouldn't you say?″

″YOUR HAPPINESS IS THE BEST HAPPINESS!″ Euphy sang.

″Is that so?″

″EUPHY IS BLANC'S GUARDIAN ANGEL!″

I wanted to cry. Either from the heat under the helmet or the sentiment that I would have a guardian angel.

″Say, you spend all this time making others happy, but what about you? What makes you happy?″

Euphoria grinned her usual grin, or at least the one I had grown accustomed to after just a short while of spending with her. ″MAKING OTHERS HAPPY MAKES ME HAPPY!″ Was her response, and one I should have seen coming a mile away.

″You can't make everyone happy, though,″ I shook my head.

″NONSENSE!″ She uttered with such confidence that I almost believed her.

I remembered a time in 2nd grade when I brought a box of fruit snacks to class. I was going to eat them when the teacher caught me opening one of the packets and asked the age old question: ″do you have enough for the rest of the class?″ Me, in my feeble mind, didn't want to disappoint and say no, so I started handing out packets of fruit snacks. Things seemed fine until all the packages were handed out and there was just one kid who didn't have one. I decided to give the packet that I opened for myself to said kid, but in turn, I ended up without any fruit snacks. It should have made me happy knowing I had enough for the rest of the class. The act of selflessness should have made me feel good about myself. But I wasn't happy.

I got the feeling that if I hadn't shared, I would have felt a sense of guilt, even though I would have gotten to have my fruit snacks. Either way, I don't think I would have been happy. At least, not completely.

″Hey,″ I turned to Euphoria. ″When we get out of here, wanna get some fruit snacks?″

It felt like we had been crawling for miles. In reality, it probably wasn't even half a mile. I wasn't even sure how long we had been moving down there. Time was not a concept that I could really consider at the moment other than the notion of ″gotta keep moving. Gotta keep running away.″

″Think we're safe?″ I asked.

″Not a chance,″ Conrad said, and right on cue, something dropped from a distance behind us. What sounded like a rock bounced once and a shockwave was felt. My ears vibrated along with the environment, screaming in place of any sound from my lungs. Screaming things like ″we're going to explode, just like that rock.″

I knew better. That was no rock. It was a grenade, and what no one tells you about grenades is that even from a distance, it can still do plenty of damage. I wanted to cover my ears, but couldn't. My hands were stuck in front of me as all I could do was inch my way further through. But even at that moment, I couldn't do that. I had to break out of this paralysis somehow if I hoped to survive.

Something could be felt running down my ears. I had a suspicion I knew what it was but I didn't want to know if my suspicion was true. Smoke was reaching our air, even this far in. I could no longer tell if Conrad was moving.

With one hand in front of the other, I pushed myself along, my body becoming its own weight against me. I reached out and felt Conrad's leg. He wasn't moving, just as I feared, but I could feel a pulse.

Why am I stuck pushing the weight of both of us? I groaned, albeit internally. No. I wasn't about to try to push him. Instead I dug my nails into his leg until his head jolted up and hit the roof of the vent.

″Thank you,″ he muttered. ″I passed out for a second there.″

I tried making a reply, but ended up coughing instead.

He started crawling forward again, and I was able to continue on as well. It was clear we weren't out of the woods yet, but I couldn't imagine how they would pursue us from here.

After a while of trying to talk, but coughing instead, I finally managed to say a few words, even if my voice was weak.

″Going where?″ I asked. If I could muster more words, I would have said ″got any sort of destination?″ or ″anything in mind?″

″You of all people should know,″ he responded, not sounding so affected, even if his voice was a bit hushed.

He was right; I did know. We were going to get to my aircraft and fly off in it.

Only thing I didn't know was how we were going to get there.

I stood up. There were no strength left in my body. Not of my own, anyway. I was allowed to gaze down and marvel at the fruits of my victory. Well, a bruised fruit, in any case. I grinned. It was such a wonderful feeling.

″Hey Ecstasy! I did it! I finally got my revenge! Now I know that anything's possible! With you by my side, we'll take down this organization and bring their disgusting acts to light!″ I declared.

Oh yes, her voice appeared inside of me, a return that I welcomed with open arms. He was quite the exquisite fellow. Perhaps I should leave you and possess him, bring him back from the brink of death. His bloodlust and mine seem like a perfect match. We could have so much fun in that body.

″What? C'mon! Don't do that!″ I whined. Was she really going to ditch me after we came this far? To think we had bonded so much in such a short time and she was prepared to ditch me for someone I hated.

She laughed a chilling laughter, one I was not so used to hearing.

I was only kidding, dear. It's much more fun to corrupt someone innocent, after all.

My head was blank. ″Huh?″ I asked. ″What do you mean by that?″

Oh, nothing, she cooed. I shrugged, amazed that I could even do that, especially considering the chunk that was missing from one of my shoulders.

″In any case, let's get a move on,″ I declared. Each step I took was a shamble into the lair of the ETNA Corporation and one step closer to being the hero I've always wanted to be.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Happiness Overload Chapter Nine

There stood a lady in a lab coat watching someone being disintegrated. Metal claws retracted back into the floor and ceiling. Electricity ran wild, and I wasn't too sure what I was being exposed to. Before I could turn away, she looked up, her gaze locked into my own.

″Um, don't mind me. Just passing through,″ I put my arm behind my head and shuffled my feet. I already knew I wasn't in the best of situations. You didn't have to tell me that. In fact, I would have at least fared a little better if I kept that stupid armor on.

″No, you're right where you should be,″ she uttered.

Footsteps. Their sounds cluttered on both ends of the hall. I was surrounded. Those goons with guns were going to shoot me down. I knew I shouldn't be here, but I could never find the exit. This lady had me trapped and she knew it. I ran into the room. It was the only thing I could think to do.

She smiled a smile that seemed to grow wider a mile a minute.

″You're still going to die, you know,″ she told me, relishing in such a fact.

″Well, fuck!″ I complained, tears welling up. ″What was I supposed to do? You had me in a corner!″

I could no longer see the body of whoever that was.

″Say, who was that?″ I pointed down, figuring if I was going to die, I may as well ask a quick question.

″Don't you know? That was you.″

″Oh, right. That makes sense.″

″What the hell was that?!″ I stood hunched over in disbelief. Conrad just stood beside me shaking his head, not giving much of a reaction otherwise.

″Damn, the feed cut out,″ he muttered.

″Really? That's what you're going to complain about? Of course it cut out! Your friend is dead!″

″It was to be expected,″ he responded with nonchalance. ″At least Blanc was useful while they were around. I finally got to see the inside of their base of operations. Or at least one of them.″

″I can't believe you right now.″

We were both in my ship at this point and Conrad had pulled out a PDA that displayed the whereabouts of Blanc through the underground maze.

″I placed a camera on Blanc when we were hanging out. It was so small that they had no way of ever noticing,″ he explained as we stepped into the ship. It was quite the ordeal getting there, but we were heading out now and venturing off to find a new place to hide out and lay low.

He tuned in just in time to see Blanc dying in front of the scientist known as Dr. Etna (or Professor, she seemed to go back and forth between titles). He gritted his teeth and hit rewind until we were at the beginning. We watched the fight with Chester, a.k.a Albacore (why the psycho chose that name I'll never know, but he's dead now and I feel no sympathy for him) as well as what ensued with the guards in the hallway. Neither of us could explain how Blanc was fighting any of them, but we had to accept that they were and there was nothing else to it. It wasn't until the thing about Ecstasy that Blanc and Etna talked about that it all clicked. It didn't really click, but Conrad explained it nonetheless.

″Damn it! They had no need to melt the body! They must have known what I did!″ He complained.

″I thought you guys were best friends, but here you are talking like they were an asset, a tool!″ I had no attachment to Blanc, myself; my first impression of them wasn't all that great and I never saw what the big deal was about how supposedly great they were. All I know is that if I had a best friend just die, I would react a little more in grief and shock. Here I am instead shocked that after Conrad had acted like Blanc was someone he'd do anything for, he went and did nothing and used Blanc for such a small gain.

″You have to understand. There was nothing I could have done. Blanc would have gone in there regardless and I wouldn't have been able to do anything to stop them. I at least had to take advantage of the situation so it wouldn't be completely in vain.″

″There was nothing you could have done? You didn't even try!″

″We had more pressing matters, anyway,″ he passed off, pulling on the strings of his hoodie. ″We were trying to escape, remember?″

″Ugh! Missing the point 101!″ I raised my fists and paced around the ship.

True, we were trying to escape, and that was my bad (as well as Kelly Roger's. Don't forget, not all of the blame can be placed on me), but Conrad knew beforehand what was going to happen. Or at least it seemed that way. There should have been something, anything other than this whole ″oh well″.

Conrad sighed and glanced my way.

″Look, you think I'm not troubled by this?″

I nodded. That was exactly what I thought.

″That's not it. I've seen this happen before. It's not the first time Blanc died. There were different circumstances. We worked together and actually came close to defeating the entire Flashbulb organization, at least in this timeline. There was no 'Ecstasy' or anything like that. I simply saved Blanc from ever riding that elevator and figured out a plan to take them apart. Their base wasn't originally underground and things were a little different. Ugh! I can't remember all the details anymore!″

″What the hell are you rambling on about?″ I raised my eyebrows.

″Time has become so muddied. I shouldn't be able to remember any of this, since it never happened, at least, not this time. We were close but they still found us out and went back in time before we had even worked together. I was powerless to stop Blanc from riding the elevator. It was like a different Blanc entirely, even before going to the station. It's like the moth effect. Even the smallest thing changes how things play out.

″You mean 'butterfly effect'?″

″It used to be moth...″ he muttered.

I shook my head.

″Whatever. So you just give up? You watch them, but you don't do anything? What's the point in gathering all this information if you're not going to do anything with it?″

″We have to be careful. It's not that I don't want to do anything, but we have to make sure we can do something before we do it.″

I laughed, but it was one of defeat. ″They're already aware of our existence. What can we do?″

″I don't know. It's a wonder they haven't already changed how things again. If they haven't already. It's so hard to tell.″

I continued pacing. The ship was on autopilot, passing through solids and camouflaging itself to avoid detection. I recalled the cameras, how we were monitoring Blanc, up until their death. That was when I remembered: there were multiple Blancs.

″You want to do something?″ I asked, feeling like I was taking charge.

″Like what?″

″We can still save Blanc.″

″Are you kidding? We're already in the next city! By the time we get there --″

″I'm the pilot, aren't I? I say we turn this around and save your best friend.″

″They're not even the same person!″ Conrad protested.

″That doesn't matter! We're doing this!″ I yelled, shoving Conrad aside and sitting in the pilot's chair.

Euphoria was singing a wordless tune that to anyone else would sound grating, but to me, it was soothing. It was a comfort to know that she was by my side. Even still, there was a miniscule part of me that was just a little uneasy.

″I guess I should have figured beforehand, but it's not exactly 'normal' to float along and make objects 'happy'. Whatever that even means,″ I mentioned.

She grinned. ″EVERYTHING WANTS TO BE HAPPY!″

″Yeah, I guess so. I guess I was also just too caught up in the moment to think about such things like what's 'normal' and what's 'not.' I also guess you're not really human, are you?″

″I'M YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL!″ She confirmed.

″Uh-huh. And what does a 'guardian angel' look like? Go ahead, show your true form. I can take it.″

I turned around and a mass of tentacles with teeth hanging around in odd corners and a giant brain hanging on top, pulsating and pieces falling off, only for a tongue on the side to continuously lick off the brain matter.

″That's not what you look like,″ I shook my head. ″That's only what I imagined you looking like.″

Euphoria changed back into the image of the girl in the angel outfit.

″EUPHORIA'S ONLY FORM IS THE FORM OF HAPPINESS!″ She cheered.

″So appearance means nothing, huh?″ That was disappointing. Such a pointless reveal.

We strode through the hall. I stopped to take off the armor I was wearing.

″I'm tired of this thing, to be honest. We haven't seen any guards in quite some time and I'm sure we're close to the exit now.″ After stripping off of the armor, I was back to feeling free in my usual clothes.

″Ah, that's so much better.″ I put my hands on my hips. ″So, anything else you can tell me?″ I asked.

″I CAN TELL YOU ANYTHING IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY!″

″Can you tell me the truth?″ I asked that, but I didn't really know what 'truth' I wanted to know.

″WILL THE TRUTH MAKE YOU HAPPY?″

I had to ponder that. ″Maybe not, but...″

″WOULD IT MAKE YOU HAPPY TO KNOW?″

″I s'ppose so.″

″Do you know what 'truth' I want to know?″

She nodded with a great fury.

She entered the chamber, this unexpected guest. My database had no information on her but that didn't last long. It only took a second before I had a basic knowledge on just what she was capable of. The flow of information was a constant, ever changing asset.

″Greetings, creature,″ I beckoned. She flitted about before bellowing.

″THE ROOM WOULD BE HAPPIER WITH LESS LIGHTS ON!″

Any light source no longer mattered; the area was already dim as it was, but the air within changed to that of pitch blackness.

″Is that so?″

″I CAN ALREADY FEEL THE HAPPINESS LEVELS RISING!″

″I see. It seems we may have similar goals.″

″GOALS? WHAT ARE THOSE?″

″Wants. Desires.″

No response.

″What we desire is to make this world happier.″

″OH MY GOD! THAT'S SO WONDERFUL!″

″Do you desire it too?″

″I CAN MAKE IT HAPPEN!″

I already knew that. Which is why it was so important to have her in our disposal.

″Good. Tell us, do you have a name?″

″NAME? WHAT'S THAT?″

She must have known what names were. There were names for objects. Names for places. Names for people. Everyone and everything had a name, even if names differed between those giving and telling it.

″Very well. From henceforth, you shall be named Euphemism. If anyone asks what to call you, however, you are to address yourself as Euphoria. Understood?″

″My...name...is...Euphoria?″ She repeated, not giving her usual shout. From what could be gathered, she did not understand, but I had little patience for drilling it into her head. It was enough to know that I could call upon her.

If we were to gather even a small sample of whatever matter made up what she was, we could create many wonders. That much was clear.

Soldiers surrounded the door, guns loaded. I didn't have any special powers or anything. I wasn't a superhero, supervillain, otherworldly being, bitten by radioactive whatever, magician, etc. I never ate a magic fruit. I was just some lazy college student with nothing to lose. I wouldn't stand a chance against a dozen assault rifles, firing at once.

I knew all this, but I also have seen quite a few movies involving villains and it was clear that I was in the lair of one. I didn't have an exact clue what I was up against, but I knew what I could do.

″Hey, I'm going to die anyway. Why don't we talk for a bit?″ I asked.

″Very well,″ the lady in the lab coat agreed. ″Prinnies, hold your fire.″

I held in a chuckle. Out of all things to call a group of fearsome supersoldiers and they get called ″Prinnies″.

″So...uh...″ This wasn't good. I was granted a chance to stall and I couldn't even figure out what to start stalling with. ″What is this place?″

″Nothing you were meant to see.″

″Oh, I get that. 'Top Secret', right? Like Area 51 or some shit? That's why I can't be allowed to live, right? I've seen too much?″

″A valid answer. For anyone else, that would be true. For you, it is because you are a mistaken. An accident. You were never meant to be.″

″Hey! That's not very nice!″ I retorted. ″I'm sure my mom weighed the pros and cons about having a baby!″

″For all intents and purposes, I am your mother,″ she answered. I pictured her wearing a Darth Vader helmet. Otherwise, her revelation didn't really have a lasting effect on me. She was probably saying that to be dramatic. Which I totally get. Gotta play up that angle. ″You are a clone.″

″Yeah, I know,″ I replied, and gave a fake yawn for added measure. ″I'm a copy of a copy of a copy. Whatever.″

″You are aware? How?″

″Well, I kinda figured. Seeing another me will do that to ya, y'know?″

″Then you know why you must die. You are a loose end. There should never exist more than one of someone.″

″I guess I see where you're coming from, but just so ya know, you're wrong. I don't see a problem with there being more than one of someone, from a moral standpoint or otherwise.″

″You are inferior. You cannot match to the original.″

″So what? Maybe that's true, maybe I can be an exact replica and still different. Doesn't mean I'm not good in my own right. Think of it like an MP3 or pirating a copy of something. Sure, the quality may go down with each copy, but it can still be enjoyed throughout by many and most of the time the lower quality is so small that it doesn't even make a difference.″

″Why would you attribute yourself to a piece of software?″

″Why not? They say the mind is like a computer.″ I may not have been much, but I was nothing if not a bullshitter. Had to be in order to stay in college.

″Enough! I've grown tired of your stalling! A filibuster may work in a senate hearing, but such tactics are of no use here! Prinnies, open fire!″

Well, shit, I thought.

The sound of gunfire pierced through my eardrums. I covered both ears and got to my knees, but when the gunfire stopped I looked behind me and noticed something: I was still alive.

″What gives? Where's the earth shattering ka-boom? There's supposed to be an earth shattering ka-boom!″ I joked, knowing full well what went on.

Euphoria charged past the mercenaries, shoving them aside and causing them to fire their guns at the walls making up the doorway. The bullets ricocheted off the wall and fired back at each of their heads, the impact somehow strong enough to decapitate each and every one of them in perfect succession. While it seemed awfully improbable, I wasn't about to question it.

″HAPPINESS TO THE RESCUE!″ She cheered, waving her hands about and jumping at me.

″Euphy, right on cue,″ I smiled and stood proud.

″Ah, so you've met our creation, Euphemism, also known as the ETNA project.″

My face went blank. ″The what now?″

″E.T.N.A., stands for Euphoric Transdimensional Nature Alterer. Or you can think of her as Euphemism, a term for when a not so savory thing is giving a more appealing name.″

I sighed. I should have figured.

″That's not true and you know it,″ I told the lady, shaking my head in disappointment. ″Euphy has no true name, and she's not a project! Euphy is Euphy!″

Blanc had escaped within a hair of their life. There were now two Blancs roaming about. We couldn't allow such a thing, but there were already provisions in place to ensure things would continue as they should. Ecstasy, an experiment created from a trace amount of the creature that came to visit us and linked to my essence was already inhabiting the Blanc who had escaped. All that was left was to wait and the rest would fall into place.

Bad news: we just saw the second Blanc, Ecstasy and I saw with the same eyes, and yet she felt the same need to tell me, as if she was telling Blanc. Sometimes it was a burden knowing my system was still plagued with imperfections.

″Fear not,″ I informed her. ″Nothing is hindered.″

Only a short time later, we were wrong. As much as Ecstasy would lead Blanc to the same fate sooner or later, we still couldn't completely control their thoughts and actions. Blanc had the ″brilliant″ idea of telling their replica to try throwing a paper ball into the elevator. We already knew why; they thought it would save the replica as well as reveal the truth of what makes up the inside of the elevator. The unfortunate truth was that Blanc did not foresee a third Blanc being created, whereas we did. We could not allow such a thing to happen.

The creature, if she could even be called such a thing, was already in our chambers.

″Euphemism, go forth and act as the guardian angel of the one who goes by Blanc Slait.″

″AYE-AYE!″ She complied and vanished. We knew it would not be immediate, but all that was left to do at that point was wait and put our faith in this being which had already proved to be a valuable asset for us.

″So that's how it is, then?″ I whispered. I would say my heart sank at the reveal, but that wouldn't have been the right way to phrase things. It felt like the feeling in your body when someone tells you they're breaking up with you or that you failed a test. A bit of a cold feeling followed by tremors and a tightening of the senses. Your heart beats felt neither slower or faster, but rather more pronounced. Your face in a position as if you had a moderate dose of Botox. Your eyes in a state where you were at the beginning of your high after eating a couple of pot brownies.

″I feel like I've lived a whole life, but my life's just begun. All of these memories, they were made by someone else who I look like, whose name I share,″ I spoke up just a bit, but each word spilled were gasps for air. I was in a state where I both felt like I could burst into tears and break down yet also felt too numb to be able to conjure any up. I know it sounds dramatic, but it was a dramatic feeling. At least before I concluded.

″It really did make me happy to find out,″ I told Euphy.

″I'M GLAD!″ She replied, and even though it was her usual grin that she wore, there was something on her face that hinted at concern.

″I guess I should have figured. There were signs all over the place, but I was always open to other possibilities. That's how I've always been...when something comes out about government corruption I would always tell myself that they still have our best interests at heart and there was a good reason for what they did.″

I stopped. Euphoria hugged me, though she probably would have evn if I wasn't talking to the void over what she had revealed to me. I gave a little laugh. It was fake, but I probably would have still laughed even if I didn't feel like I had to force it.

″I say 'always'. I guess that's not really the case. I've only had these thoughts since I was born. Though, really, what's the difference?″

There was an increased confidence; something stirred in me that may have been brought on by the truth which I pressed her so hard for.

″Come on, Euphy!″ I took a step forward, after standing still for the past few minutes. ″We have to find the exit!″ My body was still shaking and each step was met with a heavy heartbeat. It didn't help matters that her embrace made it harder to walk and I wasn't used to someone hugging me, let alone someone with an indescribable nature.

Most of my so-called 'life' I hadn't really experienced, but that didn't mean I couldn't form any memories of my own. Besides, many people share the same name and are totally different people. Maybe I could be the same way.

″What gives?″ I asked. ″Why'd you stop?″

We had been crawling along with slow movements, still trying to get to the hanger where my ship was kept.

″We reached the vent,″ Conrad muttered. ″But I can see guards lurking about.″

Just my luck. Emphasis on my, of course. My life's been a string of ″just my luck's″ with a healthy dose of ″you've got to be kidding me″ sprinkled on top.

″Any bright ideas?″ I snickered, knowing full well that Conrad had none. I didn't know why I felt the need to rub it in when I was out of ideas, myself.

″I've got a laser pointer,″ he mentioned.

″C'mon, I wanna get on my ship, already!″ I fumed.

From what I could see, the guards had no idea there even was a ship, since the ship was cloaked at the moment and appeared invisible to the naked eye. Actually, even if they were to bump into it, they probably wouldn't notice since the ship can just pass through matter when cloaked.

Conrad fumbled through his pocket. I noticed the red light of the laser pointer and I could tell that he was about to shine it. I didn't know if I could classify whatever he was about to do as a ″brilliant plan″, but if we were thinking literally, it was a ″bright″ idea.

″What are you doing? You trying to get us both killed?″

He shushed me and I was about to push him (and probably be the cause of his death) when I heard gunfire and screams of pain.

″I can't believe it...″ he whispered.

″What?″

″I just made that guy shoot the other guy. I didn't think it would work,″ he remarked.

I gotta say: Conrad's 'pointing a laser pointer at the guard's head' idea was stupid, but the guard was stupider for falling for it. Now we just had to see if it would work for the rest of them.

Her expression changed to that of disgust.

″Who's side are you on?″ She demanded.

″THE SIDE OF HAPPINESS!″ Euphoria cheered.

″That's our side!″

I took the opportunity to try running up to her and punching her smack dab in her jaw. My fist was all ready to go and I took the leap, only to find myself going right through her and crashing to the floor.

″What the...″

I stared up. She turned around and flashed a smile that grew wider and wider. Static flickered through her body and part of her faded in and out.

″You're a hologram!″ I exclaimed.

″I am but an AI, the manifestation of the computer system known as ETNA,″ she explained.

″So what you're saying is that you're full of yourself?″

She frowned. So much for that smug look on her face. I couldn't help myself but laugh.

″Euphy, it would make me really happy if I could punch her right now!″ I called out.

″HAPPINESSS AWAITS YOU!″ Euphoria sang while skipping across the room.

I leaped to my feet and hit Etna, the not-so-hologram across the cheek.

″Wow, I can't believe that worked,″ I remarked.

She turned her head, her face a deep grimace. She pressed her palm against my stomach and I felt a surge of electricity push their way through me, working my blood and sending me flying. I could only imagine what my hair looked like at the moment. I guess I was fortunate enough to be alive, even if a bit crispy.

″You have quite the guile ,″ she complimented.

″No,″ I said with a smile, still on my back, and having difficulties getting up. ″I'm just dumb.″

″Alas, it is time for your existence to end,″ she announced as metal claws flew out from the floor and ceiling and shot toward me.

No! That would not make me happy! I thought. What would have made me happy is if I was able to call Life Alert, but I wasn't about to think that with Euphoria in the room.

I could still hear the claws whizzing toward me. Maybe Euphoria wasn't going to save me this time. Maybe she was on the side of this evil computer scientist. I held my hand over my face and looked away. I didn't want to face whatever was going to crush, strangle, or smash me. I wanted to see nothing at the time of my death. So close now. I could feel the wind from the claws brushing my short, black hair. The same hair that was probably standing up from the electric shock.

And then...nothing.

I pulled my arm away and looked up.

The metal claws were moving about every which way. Euphoria was floathing in midair, as she did, her arms outstretched as she seemed to command the claws with her very presence.

″Good job, Euphy!″ I called out to her.

″YAY! BLANC IS HAPPY!″

More claws shot out and started moving in conjunction with the previous claws. If they weren't away from me, I would have been in a deep fear. Instead, I just kept smiling and shaking my head.

″Those weren't there before!″ Etna cried.

″THE CLAWS WERE LONELY WITHOUT A DANCING PARTNER, BUT THEY'RE HAPPY NOW!″

″I've had enough of this nonsense! Prinnies, come to the control room at once!″

Shit. Of course there would be more of them.

Within just a moment, more guards entered the room, but instead of opening fire, they dropped their weapons and started dancing around.

″YAY! EVERYBODY DANCE!″

Etna watched in disbelief, helpless at her mercenaries not following her orders. She turned around and stared back at me.

″There are still ways,″ she growled, and pressed her foot against my stomach.

″Ech! Ech!″ I squirmed and struggled to breathe.

Before she could squish the life out of me, one of the claws grabbed her and carried her off toward the ceiling.

″IT WANTS YOU TO DANCE WITH THE REST OF US!″

I gasped for air. It took quite a bit of strength, but I leaned up and saw Etna being the one to squirm around.

″This is madness!″ Etna shouted, furious as ever.

I had an opportunity. I was going to seize it.

″No. This! Is! Euphoria!″

I then leaned my head back down and went hysterical. All of this unfolding before my eyes. It was like I was a kid at a party and the bouncy castle was just a few feet away.

I looked up and Euphoria was staring right at me, her bug-eyes reflecting my messy face. She wore a cuter smile then any I could have imagined.

″CAN I GET A PAT ON MY HEAD?″ She asked.

She leaned down and I reached my hand up, somehow our respective actions meeting somewhere in the middle and I was able to give her a little pat.

″YAY!″ She jumped off.

The tiles on the floor started bouncing up and down as if it really were one big, metallic, bouncy castle all along. The monitors all turned on and spelled out the word ″happy″ over and over. The ceiling made waves. The doors opened and closed on their own.

I shook my head, unable to break away from the smile I had on my face.

Etna, on the other hand, seemed to not be enjoying her new life.

″I want to be a hologram again,″ she whimpered.

Euphoria must have figured that would make Etna happy as without any hint of transition, Etna phased through the claw and brought herself down to the floor. From what I gathered, Euphoria did not have a sense of pity or sympathy, only a sense of what would make someone happy or unhappy.

She straightened her glasses and fixed her face until it was back to wearing a stone cold expression.

″The previous one was so much easier...″ she muttered.

I pulled myself to my feet. ″I guess I won't be able to punch you again,″ I sighed.

″Indeed,″ she agreed. ″This is goodbye for now.″ She, or rather, her image, disappeared. The monitors that previously displayed the word ″happy″ across every screen now showed nothing. In fact, there was no hum to be heard. No lights on on the monitors or the computers that accompanied them.

The floor was still. There were no claws. The prinny squad (as I figured I would call them) were writhing on the floor, giggling ceaselessly. Their laughs harmonized and through the helmets I thought I could hear the voices of demons reaching out from the pits of hell.

Arms found their way around me and squeezed me from behind.

″DID I DO A GOOD JOB?″ Euphy asked.

I nodded. ″Yes, very good.″

″YAY!″ She cheered, rubbing her head against my back.

Before I had a chance to step forward and examine the computers, a flight of stairs appeared.

It was only a few steps of stairs, and they didn't seem to lead anywhere.

″I dunno...what if it kills me?″ I reflected, recalling the imagery of the elevator. Sure, I remember riding it once before, but that was a lie. Someone else entered. Someone else who was me, but who isn't me now. ″What do you think, Euphy? Should I risk it?″

I turned around and she was nowhere to be found. I should have noticed that there wasn't anything pressed against me, but I was lost in thought and it seemed just like her to come and go without any hint of leaving.

I gulped. It could have been a trap, but nevertheless, I took the first step. Actually, that was a stupid thought. Since when has anything horrific ever happened involving stairs leading nowhere? I was almost there, and no spinning blades nor any other phenomenon. It was actually kinda disappointing.

On the very last step, I was about to walk back down, but just as I turned around, a hand reached out and grabbed me.

I fell onto the floor. But not the same floor that I had already fallen on twice. This looked to be a different room entirely.

Did I die? Is this a new body? Have I been teleported somewhere?

″Ugh, I can't believe I had to pull you in,″ a voice complained.

I turned around behind me. Nope. The voice wasn't coming from behind me. I did notice the stairs folding up, though.

I looked in front of me and was met by a pair of legs. I looked up further and was relieved to find that the pair of legs were attached to someone: a red head wearing some spy outfit or at least what I imagine a spy would wear.

″Stop staring at my legs and get up. It's making me a little uncomfortable,″ she commanded.

I picked myself up off my feet. ″Sorry. It's just one of those things where you're not sure if you're dreaming or just having quite the day,″ I tried to explain.

″You could have just said 'sorry' or 'sorry, I've just had a batshit day',″ she corrected.

″Uh, right. So, uh, where am I?″

″You're aboard my ship. We're rescuing you.″

My eyes widened. ″That's so cool!″

″Yeah, I guess it is. Though the charm'll wear off after a while.″

″Don't mind Velvet, she just loves to complain!″ Came another voice calling out.

″I do not!″ She complained.

I looked behind Velvet and saw a figure in a hoodie slouched in a chair.

″Who's the skeleton?″ I asked Velvet.

″That's Conrad.″

I looked back at the figure, then back at Velvet.

″So that's what he looks like underneath the hood and glasses?″

She snickered. ″You hear that, Conrad? You've got a fan!″

I ran over to where Conrad was sitting just as he was pulling his hood back up. My heart was beating at an unusual rate, though given the thrills I've experienced all in one day, it shouldn't have been all that unusual.

″I feel like I've known you most my life, and yet this is only my second time meeting you,″ I began. ″Even then, I feel like that other time doesn't count. I didn't know who I was then.″

″But you know now?″ He asked.

″Well, I know what I am, I've still gotta learn the rest.″ I wiped my face. There were tears that I didn't even feel forming, yet they trickled down my face. ″I feel like my life's just beginning.″

Velvet interrupted my little introduction and shoved me aside before taking a seat.

″If you two are done, we've gotta get a move on.″

I looked at the pilot's controls and then looked out the window, displaying the room we were in. Not much about the ship made sense to me. I shook my head and looked at her.

″Where are we going?″

″Egypt.″

I mouthed ″whoa″ before bracing myself, holding tight to the seats Conrad and Velvet occupied.

Even with a new adventure awaiting me, I felt Euphoria's absence. I wondered if she would ever reappear and if so, in what form. I took a deep breath and sighed.

I knew I wasn't yet happy.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

An Overabundance of Katherines Chapter Sixteen

I shook my head. Whatever came over Mat, other me, and I (which I guess would be me?) passed. I was free as a bird who just happened to be named Kat. Kat the bird...that had a nice ring to it. I would have to think about using that name the next chance I get.

″WHY DOES THIS HOSPITAL HAVE A CONCERT FLOOR?″ Mat screamed. He must have figured it was the only thing he could do. He was brave. Braver than I. My heart went chika-chika-boom-boom with every step I took forward. I knew that there were zombies close behind us. Perhaps even close in front of us. I looked around for good measure. No zombies on either side. We might have been fine!

″That is a good question,″ other me jotted down verbally, looking at the floor in want of a pencil and paper. ″You would think a hospital's funds would be better allocated toward medical treatment and not a stage for loud music to be played.″

″Yeah, well that would require logic on our part, something that Katherines clearly lack,″ Mat pointed out. I was about to slap Mat for such a comment when Mat added ″well, I guess I am half-illogical, being half-Katherine and all.″

I smiled. Mat was finally realizing his self-worth.

″So, what's the plan, o great Kat?″ Asked the other me, who was beginning to realize my self-worth after only noticing her own beforehand.

I stole her glasses and lab coat for a bit and explained.

″I watched the end of Grease the other night.″ After the air was clear, I placed her glasses back on her face and gave her a passionate kiss for no discernible reason.

So that just happened. I kissed myself. Well, I didn't kiss anything. I was kissed by myself. I would have been more uncomfortable, but I was a little overjoyed once I pieced together what Kat's plan was.

″Why do I have to be Sandra Dee?″ Mat complained, being ever so stubborn. It's not like he had any right to complain. We were getting dressed behind the stage and zombies could show up and peep on us at any moment.

″Because it's a well known fact that I'm a greaser, and thus, must be John Travolta,″ I casually explained even though I shouldn't have bothered because who goes out of their way to explain something so painfully obvious?

″I concur,″ concurred other me. It was only two words, but it meant exactly what it was meant to mean.

″I don't know what concur means, but I'm glad you agree with me,″ I reassured myself until I could hear the other me sigh with such force that the only conclusion to be made was that it was a sigh of approval. All was going according to plan.

ALL WAS NOT GOING ACCORDING TO PLAN. STOP LISTENING TO SUCH A FOOL. IF YOU THINK WE WERE SAFE YOU ARE SORELY MISTAKEN. KAT DIDN'T EVEN HAVE A SMIDGE OF A PLAN. DO YOU KNOW WHAT A SMIDGE IS? DO YOU? DO YOU?

I cleared my throat as I prepared for the role of Sandra Dee. Inhale, exhale. I was nowhere near a good singer, but I knew I could get one thing out.

″HOW IN THE FUDGE IS SINGING A SONG GOING TO STOP A ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE?″ I screamed at the top of my lungs, and if I was lucky, at the top of the neighboring girls and zombies' lungs as well.

The Kat from an alternate universe paced around with her index finger on her index chin. She jotted some things down on Kat's notebook, the Kat I was more familiar with, for better or for worse. Then she looked up and spoke, still pacing.

″You see, a song from Grease was what triggered the zombie response in Katherines. So it would only make sense that a song from Grease would undo the zombification and return everyone to normal.″

My mouth was agape. My costume was agape. My hair was agape. The grapes on a neighboring table were also, in fact, agape.

″That makes...no sense.″

″Maybe not to you, but to a Katherinologist, it's the most logical conclusion.″

″Since when are there Katerinologists?″ What world am I living in? Why do I bother questioning things?

″Never mind that. We need to set up the speakers so the zombies can hear us.″

I didn't help the two Kats set up the speakers. I wanted to, but my mind started drifting to me. It felt like a part of me was missing. Particularly, me from an alternate universe. And by part, I mean, several parts that have been devoured by zombies all named Katherine. It just wasn't right. But when life gives you Katherines...

While Mat over there was likely busy emoting, which I totally don't judge him for, but it's really unfair that we're doing all the work while he just stands there, myself and I were busy setting up speakers for the show.

″You think this will work, Kat?″ Me asked me.

″Yeah, I think it will,″ I replied to myself.

″But why this song in particular? I know a song is what turned the Katherines into zombies in the first place, but wouldn't a different song be more fitting?″ I was asked by me.

″Trust me on this one. I would say why, but then the zombies might hear us and devise a counterplan. We can't have that.″

″But the zombies will hear us when the song starts, right?″

″Duh. If we perform and no one's around to see or hear it, did it really happen?″

Damn, I'm so deep sometimes.

Everything was all ready to go except for one thing: there were no zombies to watch us perform. It should have struck me as odd sooner that we had been safe up to that point, but it never quite clicked: the zombies didn't think to look for us on the 20th floor because they were all on the 18th floor and there was no 19th floor. There never was a 19th floor. Why wasn't there a 19th floor?

Sorry.

I digress. The me from this world, who was calling herself ″Kat the Bird″ for no discernible reason, realized the mistake as well, and rectified it.

She grabbed a large tapestry, one that could potentially lead to many parallel universes, but couldn't really.

She grabbed a marker. But not just any marker. One that didn't bleed through the other side of the tapestry and was very soft to the touch when you pressed it down on the paper. She had me write with the marker even though she was the one who grabbed it and not me. She, being the Kat with the plan, told me what to write.

Me, not she, but I am she, too, placed the banner on the ceiling. It read:

ALL YOU CAN EAT BRAINS

on the

20TH FLOOR

Ingenious. Truly ingenious. Within seconds, droves of zombies flooded the venue. There were murmurs amongst the zombies. I could hear things like ″I heard there would be brains,″ and ″all you can eat, too.″

Kat, the one that you all know and love (that's not me), stepped up to the stage from behind the curtains and coughed into the mic, likely to check to see if it was turned on. It was. The zombies were frothing at the teeth just from the sound of a cough.

″I GOT CHILLS, THEY'RE MULTIPLYING,″ Kat screeched as if someone had stepped on her right foot and then stepped on her left for good measure. It was like dropping a box of nails in the middle of a board meeting.

I was standing on the rafters, my work being done. I couldn't quite leave this world just yet, though. Not when I had to make sure this concert went off without a hitch.

″AND I'M LOSING CONTRO-OI-L,″ Kat tried spitting out, having trouble with her enunciation. Singing wasn't exactly my strong suit, but luckily for us all, the zombies were tone deaf.

″'CAUSE THE POWER YOU'RE SUPPLYIN',″ she continued, though clearly running out of breath. I tried messing with the fuse box so that the sound could be amplified further, but accidentally caused a spark which knocked me off the ladder and I ended up falling on the singing Kat, which cushioned my fall about 25%.

″IT'S ELECTRIFYING!″ She screamed and collapsed to the floor. Luckily for us both, Mat stepped up, doing the best Sandra Dee ever.

″YOU BETTER SHAPE UP!″ He instructed us both and we scrambled to our feet.

″'CAUSE I NEED A MAN!″ He commanded and pointed to the audience. Amongst all the zombies was a zombified Mat from my own universe. My universe's Mat was in pretty bad shape but upon hearing that line of lyric made an instant recovery, limbs and all, and jumped onto the stage, becoming the Mat I and the rest of my town knows and loves.

″AND MY HEART IS SET ON YOU!″ Mat as Sandra Dee took Mat as...Mat by the hand and the two started dancing. ″YOU BETTER SHAPE UP! YOU BETTER UNDERSTAND!″ Mat continued, outshining Kat in the singing department. We all shaped up and started dancing. The zombies in the audience started dancing. We were all dancing. It was a good time.

But then, standing in plain sight was a scientist bruised and covered in blood, who threw a discus and knocked the lights out.

″TO MY HEART I MUST BE TRUE!″ The scientist cackled. We didn't even have to see who it was. We all knew: Dr. Frenchie.

We scrambled around the stage, trying to avoid this discus that seemed to have a mind of its own. I noticed something. It wasn't a discus. It was a wheel. Also, it made a moaning sound. That's when I noticed: it was powered by zombie Katherines. It was a Katherine wheel.

Dr. Frenchie jumped onto the stage and held the Katherine wheel with a firm and astute grip.

″NOTHIN' LEFT, NOTHIN' LEFT FOR ME TO DO!″ Dr. Frenchie declared and before we knew it, the surviving scientists showed up, ready to kill us along with the army of zombies who were previously dancing. Also we had to deal with the Katherine wheel, lest we forget.

″YOU'RE THE ONE THAT I WANT!″ The Flashbulb members chanted, ganging up on us.

″OO-OO-OOO,″ chimed in the zombies. I rolled my eyes. We really didn't need their input.

Still, we weren't about to give up the fight, so Mat, Mat, Kat, and I (also Kat), snapped our fingers.

″HONEY, THE ONE THAT I WANT!″ We stepped forward with poise in our eyes.

″OO-OO-OOO,″ the zombies added, this time getting more in the groove and adding ″you are the one that I want″ every so often for added effect.

I looked over to myself, to which I looked at me. We gave each other a determined smile and knew that we had to keep this song up. For the sake of Katherinekind.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Routes

Two paths in the road and I took the one less traveled. Turns out that road led straight off a cliff.

Not that I had any regrets. Sure, there was a reason others didn't take that road. They already knew what the dangers were. But someone had to take it, right? If I didn't, who would? And it's the one less traveled, not the one that wasn't traveled at all. Even still, I can hear it now; as I'm ascending or descending there is a crowd gathering around. Whispers and shadows. Circles. Humans are vultures. I am a meal for worms.

No matter, no time like the present. They can say what they like.

″You know, there were more than two roads,″ one points out. Now I feel stupid, as I should.

″There's at least several,″ another adds. Thanks. I could have really used that knowledge before I took the swan dive. Now look at me. Mangled. Fun times.

One of those people abandons the crowd and the spectacle that is my body. He turns to the audience.

″This all could have been avoided,″ he tells you. ″Years and years ago, we made maps. We charted each of the different roads. Some are more traveled than others while some haven't been fully developed yet. We detailed which ones are dangerous and what to prepare for. If you're ever in doubt, you should check a map.″

You decide to check the map. There's an exit off the highway; a roadside avenue with a diner and an abandoned gas station. You're walking, so you don't need to worry about stopping for gas. But pancakes sound good about now. Or french toast. It must have been years since you've had french toast.

You notice there are two diners. Out of the two diners, you take the one less visited. Turns out the one you chose is less visited because it failed a health inspection. It received bad reviews, both online and in newspapers. Even after discovering this, you feel as if it may be awkward for you to walk out after you already sat down. Besides, the waitress is kind of cute.

The waitress is very aware of the condition of the establishment but she puts on a smile in spite of it. It is a genuine happiness because seldom does someone enter, and even rarer does someone stay upon learning why few enter.

″What would you like?″ She asks.

″I was thinking about some french toast,″ you admit. She also has something to admit.

″I hope you don't mind eggshells in the bread. That's how it's made here.″

You blush. Such nostalgia forms off the tip of your tongue. Your eyes start to well up.

″Just like mama used to make...″

The two of you sit down. No one else is present, aside from a cook and a busser.

″You know, I've thought many times of leaving this place, but it's my home.″

″You mean that in a sentimental sense, right?″ You ask.

″No, a literal one. I live here. There's a sleeping bag in the back.″

You ask her if you could share her sleeping bag with her for the night. She agrees, as a flame had been lit that wasn't there before. Soon after, the diner burned down. Luckily for the both of you, the sleeping bag was fireproof and the two of you slept through the night, through the fire and flames.

When you wake up, you are cold. It makes no sense considering you're still in a sleeping bag. You look next to you. She is not there.

You decide to get up and move on. Whatever happened and however it happened, there is still more to life and more roads to travel. Sure, people come and go, but most are just passing through. Something starts playing on the radio inside your head.

″Life is a highway...″ you mutter, but before you can finish that thought, a truck runs you over. Honestly, why were you walking in the middle of the highway?

The truck drive pulls off to the side of the road to assess the damage. He vomits into his hat that he was previously wearing. The sight isn't pretty. You're all over the tires. You're a little all over the place, but mostly mangled. There's not a shred of life left in you.

″Why are people like this?″ The truck driver asks despite knowing there is no one around to answer. Even though you were walking in the middle of the road, the truck driver could still be facing serious charges. He knows this and in a desperate attempt to escape punishment, drives off in quite the hurry.

He doesn't want to leave any evidence, being quite the thorough person that he is. So he drives into a car wash. Now there are many different ways this could go, anything could happen, as you know. But the most mundane of all happens and the car gets washed. He pays for the car wash and goes on about his day. That's about all there is to that.

There's not really any moral or takeaway but if there is any kind of message at all it's that sometimes the road most traveled is going to be taken. If everyone were to take the road least traveled, then it would no longer become the road least traveled and you might even find advertisements on television for it. Or on billboards. Billboards that may look so enticing that you may likely find yourself so distracted by them that you crash into the car in front of you. Or drive off a cliff.

Or walk off one. Like I did. Because there were multiple paths and I just had to take the one that was least traveled. Now is about the time that I would advise you not to blindly take a path less explored, but I'm already dead.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Office Species

It was another day in this stuffy environment. Dust floated down and my skin slunk back as I hunched over my desk, typing until the clock told me that I could leave. Cubicles kept us separated, but the occasional phone call served as a reminder that I wasn't truly alone.

It rang, so I placed it to my ear.

″ENLARGE YOUR PENIS TODAY. MEET HOT SINGLES IN YOUR AREA,″ shrieked a voice of misery.

″Malware?″ I asked, already fatigued before my day could even start.

In the background I could hear a faint ″help me″ and sobbing. I sighed and told them I would be right over.

″Hey boss, I'm going to help out a customer,″ I called out as I walked toward the exit.

″Do what you gotta do,″ was the boss's reply.

My car pulled up to the curb. The house was a yellow one in a suburban neighborhood. Nothing more to report, except for the screams coming from inside. I knocked on the door and turned the handle. It was unlocked.

Inside, the place reeked of home refinances and Nigerian Princes. There were two women, one on a sofa which was adjacent to a coffee table where her laptop lay. The other was a someone pacing around and screaming things like ″YOU WON A $100 WALMART GIFT CARD″.

This could have happened any number of ways. Opening a junk email, going on shady porn sites, downloading an unsafe torrent. It didn't matter. The solution was simple. I sat down, made a few clicks, and quarantined the files.

Right before I left, I reminded them to update their virus protection. The one who previously spewed such vile words calmed down and managed to nod. Once in my car, I turned the ignition and sped back into the office.

The boss was having a conniption fit. Two of his best employees had called in sick while I was away. I drowned out most of it as I sat back at my desk. Unfortunately for me, I couldn't avoid his towering body hovering over me.

″Can you believe it? Tim and Eric both called in sick! That's the second time this week someone's called in sick!″ The boss wasn't used to sick days. I couldn't say whether I was or wasn't.

″Maybe something's going around,″ I mentioned with a shrug, and got back to work. He gave a firm pat on my back and laughed.

″What, like a virus? People don't get viruses, only computers get viruses!″

I could sense him walking back into his office. Good. There wasn't much left for me to do. One more hour and I could go home.

In the night, she caressed my chest as I lie awake, sobered, but the overpowering sense of intoxication. She nibbled on my ears and ran her palm down every inch of my body. She was so beautiful and I wanted to cry. She sucked on my neck, then leaned her head up, whispering in my ear.

″Do you want me?″

″I do, but you're a virus,″ were the words in return, tears forming now.

I jolted awake. I knew I was alone. There was a rush of sweat on my face. I wiped it off and pulled my hand back; my head was molten. The volcano erupted and its contents spilled over. With enough effort, however, I found myself once again asleep.

Back in my space, in the office the next day, I continued the same routine. My head spun and pulsated all while seeming to stay still, save the occasional nods. It was a feeling of tiredness yet I knew I needed to stay here.

Two men peered over into my cubicle. I recognized their faces as Tim and Eric, the same two who were sick just the day prior.

″The virus would like to speak with at the front desk,″ one said.

″You don't want to keep her waiting,″ said the other. I couldn't tell who said which, their faces both looked like lifelike masks rather than true faces. It could have been attributed to my blurred vision.

I nodded and got up.

Each foot down the stairway furthered the anticipation. I could have opted for the elevator, but the end result would have been the same. I wanted to stop this swirling sensation, but I had no tools at my side to aid me. All I could hope was that this meeting would be swift. I was losing valuable time that could have been better spent waiting for the day to end.

Down in the lobby, there were no human bodies save my own. I went up to the front desk and got my answer. I should have figured. My hand balled into a fist, but then it released.

I walked back up. If I had any sense, I would chew those two out, but I didn't have the strength.

Back at the office, it was only me. I knocked on the boss's door and got no response. No Tim. No Eric. No one else that I never bothered to learn the names of. I let out an exasperated breath and returned to my cubicle, sitting once more in my chair.

I could feel her fingers run through me. My head pounded as I tried to work, ignore all the reds that made up my face. The bright screen gave off a reflection of my face; pock marks and bruises all over. I shook my head and waited for the phone to ring. Which it did.

″Did you try turning it off and on again?″ I asked, then hung up.

I may have dozed up no less than three times. Only fifteen minutes passed. It was growing and I could see no dust. Smoke snakes slithered and I knew; I was her and she was me.

I gazed at the clock. Just another day at the office. Soon I could go home.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Happiness Overload Chapter Six

″You just have to tell me one thing,″ I gave my most resolute declaration as I placed both hands on Conrad's shoulders. ″Is the X-Files real?!″

Conrad shook his head. ″I'm afraid not.″

I could feel the weight of Ecstasy's palm on my own shoulder, commiserating and telling me that she too wished that Scully was real. She didn't understand, however, that I thought of Conrad like a Mulder to me. Or maybe Conrad fancied himself a Deepthroat.

″Follow me to the back,″ he motioned, walking behind these curtains which I believed to house the kitchen of the teriyaki place we had stopped at. There were no cameras present in the teriyaki place, according to Conrad. He had connections with the owners and they too were worried about government surveillance. The owners were afraid of the government one day finding out the recipes to their food and what made it taste so good and I do have to admit, it did taste pretty damn good.

Soon the stoves and dishes gave way to computers and servers. I had a hard time noticing as everything was blurring together. Is it just me or did this stop being a kitchen and start being a computer lab? Ecstasy asked. If not for her pointing it out, I would have never even caught on. But before I could ask Conrad about it, we went behind another curtain, which led to a flight of stairs.

″Just how far does the rabbit hole go?″ I scoffed.

″It's not a rabbit hole,″ Conrad groaned. ″It's a secret base.″

″Yeah, but it just feels like it never ends.″

″We've only been walking a few feet. It's not my fault you haven't gotten much sleep.″

When we got to the bottom of the stairs, we were met with a wall. Conrad felt around the panels as if he were fondling a mannequin at a JC Penny's. The panels opened up to reveal an opening filled with dim lights.

″Where are we now?″ I asked.

″The tunnel.″

″The tunnel is...?″

He let out the worst sigh. ″I've already explained it to you.″

″Well, can you explain it again for the audience?″

″The...what?″ He looked disgusted, though I couldn't see his face. It might have just been that his posture expressed disgust. He shook his head before trying to think any longer. ″No. Let's keep moving.″

As we were moving, I couldn't help but look around, but there wasn't much to look at; looking forward, there was only darkness. Looking back, as well. Only in our immediate area was there dim lights. Each light near us wasn't enough to light the way.

″Isn't it a little irresponsible having a secret base where anyone could find them?″

″There are many areas these tunnels lead to, it would be a one and a million chance of anyone finding our base. They would have to know where to look.″

″So what you're saying is, it's possible for just anyone to stumble in here, get curious, and find you guys?″

″Why do you do this? Why do you have to nitpick me?″

″I'm just saying, for all your efforts to make it a secret, there's too many ways to access it. What if a swat team decided to swarm the place and used every entrance into the tunnel to get here? You'd be fucked, bro.″

″SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHUT UP!″ Conrad yelled.

″Careful, you don't want those on the surface to hear you,″ I smirked, though I wasn't really sure which inhabitant of this body was smiling. For that matter, it was unclear which of us did the talking.

I could barely see him in the dim lights, but I could tell that he was smiling as well.

″You know, I don't know what I missed about your quips, but I missed them.″

Our shadows were illuminated with each step we took and several panels could be made out, but where all of them lead was a mystery that I wasn't even sure Conrad had the time to answer. My eyes wandered, but not very far. Just as far as my feet could take me.

″You've gone silent. That's unlike you,″ Conrad mentioned.

Is it unlike me? It had only been a couple minutes, I thought. Sure, I didn't respond, but it didn't really warrant a response, did it? And how could he have missed me if it had only been a couple days since this whole incident and he was watching me this whole time. There was nothing to miss. Hell, the concept of being missed by anyone, it's so...bizarre.

Really? Asked Ecstasy within my thoughts. Is it really so bizarre?

No. Maybe not. But then another thought cropped up. Everything else is.

She didn't ask what I meant. I didn't even know why it came up, but before I could question it, another thought wormed its way in.

The world isn't real.

I didn't know whether she said that or I did, but I had no response to it, just as I didn't the other one. I tried to shake this thought before more crept in, so I opened my mouth.

″Sure you picked up me and not my clone? I'm pretty sure I would know what is and isn't unlike me.″

″I can tell you apart from your clone a mile away. I knew when I saw your clone that it wasn't you. You're the type to question anything, even the people who question everything.″

″And my clone didn't do that?″

″See? There you go!″

I grinned.

″But anyway, your clone was doubting me, but was also saying that I should give that elevator a try. I knew you would have been skeptical of it.″

″I don't know, man. I could never turn up an opportunity to be hacked into bits.″

We stopped at a wall. Or a panel, as I should say. Conrad poked at it a bit as if there were a touchscreen only he could see.

″You have to touch certain areas to get it to open up.″

″Oh, you know it,″ replied my voice, but I knew who was talking. I shook my head.

″Err...I mean, do you really want to be sharing that secret with me? What if I'm secretly your enemy and I reveal this information to my gang.″

Conrad must have ignored my first comment, thank goodness, and instead said, ″I'm willing to take that risk.″

The panel opened up to reveal Conrad and his friends' base.

″Bro.″

Both Kelly Roger and I sat on the bed, one of us bursting with rage, the other bursting with laughter.

″I knew it! I knew it all along!″ Kelly Roger fumed.

I should have restrained Kelly Roger, or at least had said ″now, now. Be reasonable. Let's listen to what he has to say,″ but I was too busy rolling around, tears filling my face and the muscles on my face stretching. I was a hopeless case.

″Now, now. Be reasonable. Let's listen to what I have to say,″ began Conrad, and I couldn't help myself but continue to choke up as I heard him say what I should have said all along.

Kelly Roger got up and ran toward Conrad, ready to strangle him. My vision was too blurred to make out if Kelly Roger succeeded or not.

″Well, I'm going to go meet up with Blanc. I guess I have no choice but to explain to you two when I get back,″ he shook his head and walked out, closing the door behind him. Kelly Roger's fists slammed right against the solid steel door.

″That bastard!″ Kelly Roger roared. ″I can't believe him!″

I stood up and wiped my face.

″And you! Why didn't you do anything?″

My face was fixed into a smile that I would have to pry off sooner or later, as it was ill fitting of me. ″Excuse me? I was busy,″ I retorted.

″Busy? You looked like you were having the time of your life!″

I looked around, averting the gaze of Kelly Roger. I would have whistled if I could.

″I swear to fucking God, when Conrad and his little friend get back, I'm going to kill them both!″ Kelly Roger continued, ignoring my aversion.

″Can't you just chill?″

Kelly Roger huffed and puffed. I was inclined to give the kid a pat on the shoulder, but declined my inclination on the grounds that it would have taken too much effort.

″Chill? Our Conrad, er, I mean, comrade, betrayed us for his best friend!″

″I don't think it's really like that,″ I tried to explain. ″It's just Conrad being a dork like usual. If nothing else, treat it like you're about to meet a celebrity.″

″A celebrity that's likely to doom us all!″

I got up and walked toward the door, opened it, and moved past Kelly Roger, ignoring the tirade. ″I have ways to leave if anything like that goes down, so I'm not worried,″ I chirped while shrugging and exiting stage left.

″So how'd you know I was coming your way?″ I asked Conrad, sitting across from him at a table in the teriyaki shop. My feet were swaying back and forth while I pressed Conrad for answers. All I was missing was the absence of light and a lone adjustable lamp to shine on my hostage.

″It was more that I was coming your way,″ Conrad explained. Even though it was just an inversion of what I asked and not a true action to my question. ″You see, my team has been watching your every move for quite some time.″

I spat out a half-chewed gyoza right in Conrad's face. ″So you've even been watching me masturbate?″

Conrad looked away. ″No...I think we all have standards...″

I peered under the table.

″Aw, there goes my gyoza,″ I whined. I leaned over to try to grab it.

″What are you doing?″ Conrad asked with the voice of what I believed to be disgust.

I sat back upright. ″I was just, thinking of, y'know, standards. I have them, too. I wasn't really going to, y'know, do whatever you think I was going to do.″

″Did you pay attention to anything I said?″ Conrad asked.

″What? About you having a team or something? Yeah, sure.″

″And you're not at all surprised?″

″Should I be? I always figured you probably got together with some friends on the weekends and discussed conspiracy theories.″

″THEY'RE NOT THEORIES!″ He nearly stood up and screeched before regaining composure. ″And just so you know, we meet up every day. Not on the weekends.″

I scoffed. ″Like that changes anything.″

Conrad raised his index finger. ″I know that you've seen the ETNA documents. I know that you want to make a difference.″

″Do you and your little gang want that as well?″ The little cogs that powered my mind gave me no choice but to ask.

″Why don't you come with me and see for yourself?″ Conrad smiled, and with that, the two of us got out of our seats, plates unfinished, and moved toward the depths of secrecy.

Okay, the way I made it sound was much more cool than how it really was. It was just a dark room with computers around.

″What did you expect?″ Conrad turned and asked me. ″This is pretty much what the NSA does.″

″Gee, I never said the NSA was cool, either.″

Just as I said that, a redhead wearing some secret agent spandex suit as if she were Kim Possible or whatever stepped out of a door and into the hall. She walked toward us and had the look as if she just heard a really well made pun. I knew at that moment that I was in love.

She walked up to me, or I walked up to her, and she tried to straighten up her face, make herself appear more serious, as she held out her hand, presumably for me to shake it. I held out my hand and shook it and looked deep into her eyes.

″I am the Velveteen Rabbit,″ she introduced herself as. It must have been a codename.

″Ah, you must be who I have been looking for all my life,″ I did my best to flirt.

I could steam rise and bubbles rolling over. What do you think you're doing? Ecstasy demanded.

Gee, possessive much, are you? I shot back.

Well, yeah, in a manner of speaking.

″I'm sorry. I'm only into girls,″ she explained.

I retracted my hand and grinned. ″Well, that's that, then.″

Her previous awkward expression changed to one of confusion. ″Yeah, that is.″

Really? That's that? You're just going to give up after you declare that you're in love? Ecstasy threw a flabbergasted fit.

Well, yeah. I'm not a girl, so that's out of the question.

But you're not a boy, either.

I shrugged. Maybe a physical shrug wasn't necessary but I couldn't think of a proper mental shrug aside from the brief thought, ″eh, I moved on already.″

There is something seriously wrong with Conrad's friend. I went up to them to be polite. I know it was hard to compose myself after having such a laughing fit, but I still made damn sure to be as formal as possible. I even did the whole handshake thing.

But I swear, even from the second I left Kelly Roger's bunker, something was wrong. I could smell it.

Even still, I held out my hand and Blanc shook back, their hand feeling like a clump of warm ground beef. It was like touching a mass of hand pieces stuck together rather than an actual hand itself.

″I am the Velveteen Rabbit,″ I blurted out without really thinking. Oh well. If luck was on my side, this would be the first and last time I'd ever see them. I didn't need to worry about embarrassment. Besides, they should be embarrassed. They stink, not me.

″Ah, you must be who I have been looking for all my life,″ was Blanc's reply. I didn't really know how to take that. The smell was overpowering now.

Just how long has it been since your last shower? I wondered while fighting the urge to plug my nose. I want to reiterate: I tried very hard to be polite. It was worse than not showering for a few days. Sure, I've done it and there's the occasional body odor and oily hair, but the stench I was faced was like catching a whiff of fresh roadkill.

If I took too long dwelling on the smell, it would get awkward. From what I could tell, Blanc could have been trying to flirt with me, which made me crinkle my nose just as much as the smell did. I didn't know how else to take it, so I said in the simplest way I could:

″I'm sorry. I'm only into girls.″

After Blanc pulled away and didn't seem to mind my swift rejection, I turned around and retched. I knew I was about to throw up. That is, until Conrad stopped me.

″Say, where's Kelly Roger?″ Conrad asked. I didn't have a clue who this Kelly Roger person was, and I turned around to see the Velveteen Rabbit's reaction. She leaned up, hunched over from who knows what. Probably had to catch her breath after being so starstruck over how cool I am.

″Still in the room. I wouldn't worry about it,″ Velveteen Rabbit brushed off the matter.

″How rude! I have a guest over and Kelly Roger doesn't bother leaving the bedroom for even a few minutes?″ Conrad groaned and shook his head. ″The things I do for you people.″

I just gave a blank stare, not knowing what I was witnessing. ″What do you do for them, exactly?″ I asked.

″Yeah?″ Velveteen rabbit echoed my question.

Conrad scoffed. ″I don't need this right now. If you need me, I'll be in my room.″

I looked around, unsure of what to do or where to go. I thought it would all be clear once I got here, but absolutely nothing has been explained to me. I should have been angry, but I was too lost to even feel that.

″W-What about me?″ I pointed to myself and asked.

″Come with me, you dork! You thought I was just going to be in my room by myself?″

I turned my head from the two walking past me. When Conrad uttered those words, my mind went to the gutter. At least the two would spend some quality time together. However long that may be, I had no way of knowing, but as soon as that door were to close, it would be long enough. At that moment, Kelly Roger was likely far, far away.

″There's much to discuss, of course, but all in due time,″ Conrad explained, sitting on the edge of the bed, while opening a can of orange soda.

″Yeah, we still got some catch up to do, don't we?″

″Ah, do you remember when we were kids, before we had to worry ourselves over things like this?″

″Yeah. I guess I wasn't too worried, anyway, up until recently. I knew this shit was happening, but I didn't think I could do a thing about it, so why worry myself? Now it's different, though. I can do something. I can be a hero.″

″We saw what you can do. It's certainly impressive.″

I scanned around the room and all I could make out amongst the strange gadgetry was a mini-fridge.

″Got any more of that orange soda?″

″Help yourself.″

I crawled on all fours until my face met the fridge door, then opened it to feel the icy chill blast on both cheeks. It made this cold, dead face more cold. However, when my hand touched the soda can, I felt nothing. Not a cold sensation nor warmth. I crawled back next to the bed frame and looked up.

″Take a fucking sip, the world's ending, anyway,″ Conrad egged.

I stared at the can. ″True...″

″Right now I just feel like everything is so unnatural. Like nothing is as it should be. Is that normal, bro?″

Conrad looked down. ″Nothing has ever been as it should be. You know that.″

″You know what I mean. This very moment. The last moment. Ever since seeing you on the street. It's not been how it should play out.″

″How should it play out?″

I whined. ″I don't know. I just miss high school. It was so much easier back then.″

″Really? I remember you being depressed as hell back then.″

″Yeah, but that's just high school for you. I still miss it. I had things going for me. I had aspirations. Dreams, man.″

″Don't you still?″

″Yeah, but not like I was living a comic book.″

″Life is more like a comic book than you could ever imagine,″ Conrad stared off as he said.

″Rich, coming from the nerd.″

″You're a nerd, too! You dork!″

″Hey, at least I had a girlfriend!″

Conrad didn't comment. I didn't understand how the mysterious paranoid agent could be devoid of comments, but I persisted.

″Remember that time I chugged a gallon of milk at lunch?″

″Yeah.″

″And that time when I got so mad someone called me a girl that I decked them?″

″Yeah...″ I could almost sense him wincing.

″And that time when we were minding our own business chatting about the latest video game or whatever and my girlfriend walked up and yelled at me?″

″Blanc, you never had a girlfriend.″

″Come on, man! How could you forget?″

Conrad shook his head. ″Face it, neither of us are ever going to be in a relationship. It's just who we are. We're destined to walk this world alone, being the sole bearers of the dark knowledge that governments don't want us to know.″

Blanc, what's going on? Ecstasy asked within my thoughts. I ignored her for the time being. My nerves were acting up and I didn't know why.

″I know that now, but I'm pretty darn sure I did.″

″Yeah, maybe a 2D one,″ he scoffed.

I puffed my cheeks.

″Seriously, Blanc? Why would you go all that way on that rooftop to make up a story about your girlfriend and how you missed her when she doesn't even exist?″

And why do you think I would make up such a sob story like that? I silently retorted, making sure Conrad didn't think I was crazy.

I don't think it worked.

″Hey, are you alright?″ He asked.

″Yeah,″ I replied, though I could feel a tear forming from my eyelid. ″It's just so good to see you again.″

He didn't look convinced. ″You've hardly taken a sip of your orange soda.″

I smashed the can in my hand, not caring if any cuts formed on my hand, or how much of a mess I've made.

″Fuck this orange soda! I don't have time to drink! Why aren't we doing anything right now? I'm here! You're here! We can't just sit around and let this ETNA corporation or whatever they are --″

″The Flasbulb,″ Conrad corrected. Not that I cared.

″Fuck your illuminati bullshit! What they're doing is real evil and I have the power to change things!″

I stood up now, I took several heavy breaths, waiting for my next rant to pop into my head or for Conrad to say something so I could protest.

″I agree, but we need to plan carefully.″

″What do we know about their base?″

″We know where it is, and we have an overhead blueprint, but we have no clue what's there. All we currently know is that your clone is there.″

″What?! My clone's there?! All the more reason to go! I need to protect them!″

Conrad looked confused. I didn't blame Conrad. Caring for myself was not really something I was used to, but this was less another me and more like another chance. To have a right version of me. A version that wasn't so fucked up and didn't make a deal with a succubus in order to stay alive.

Hey, I heard that, snapped Ecstasy. She wasn't too happy and I felt a shadow slap me upside the head, a shadow Conrad likely would not be able to see.

Seriously, why do you even care? You pretty much abandoned your clone to their fate after suggesting they throw a paper ball.

I didn't think any harm could have come to them, in all honesty. I know it was reckless of me, but if someone doesn't go in the elevator, then no harm could come to them, right? I wanted to expose the horrors of it without exposing them to the dangers of it. Somehow, the truth has to be known.

″Give me a print out of those blueprints! I'll go there myself!″ I barked.

Conrad shook his head. ″I understand your concern, but I don't want any harm to come to you. I don't say this lightly: if you go now, there's a high chance that you'll die. We should really plan this out before entering and make sure we know what we're getting into. That way we can ensure the maximum chance of success.″

How could he even say that? Hasn't he been watching me this whole time? Doesn't he know what I'm capable of? What does he know?

″It's cool if you and your gang want to sit around and wait but I've got somewhere to be! So are you going to help me or not?″ I was itchin' and foaming at the mouth.

″Just a sec,″ Conrad gave a weary sigh as he spoke. ″I'll go print out the documents.″

I tapped my foot. The whole room, if you could call such a small space that, was silent save for the sound of my foot tapping and Ecstasy nagging in my mind. All these thoughts that I would rather drown out right now with my own stubbornness.

Conrad's right. I've looked into it. If you go, you'll die.

I don't care.

I do! If you die, I don't have a host. How do you expect to expose the truth if you die before you even have the means? What then?

I'll figure that out when I get there.

It's too dangerous! What about that don't you get?

″I don't care!″ I yelled to Ecstasy. ″All my life – All my life, I've felt like I haven't belonged anywhere, and now that I have the means to be someone, someone great, and do something great, you want me to just back down?″

I didn't realize I said all that out loud and as soon as those words finished escaping my mouth, the door open and Conrad appeared, presumably having heard everything.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

One-Sided Coin

″So, here's how it's going to go down,″ the mobster explained, holding a coin in his hand. I was surrounded; guns drawn on all sides of me. There was no way I was going out alive, and yet...

″Heads, you die.″

Tails, you live was probably what was going to be said next. I made a silent prayer that it would land on tails. I couldn't afford to die. I was so close to busting a crime ring and I just had to go and get caught. I always heard how tough being an undercover cop could be, but I never really believed it until now.

Bang!

Later on, with me in a body bag, no pulse, the mobsters took off in their getaway car. I would soon be at the bottom of a river. Go figure. The mobsters, however, had idle chatter.

″Say, boss, why do you hold out a coin if you have no intention of flipping it?″ Asked one of the lackeys.

″Ever read Ayn Rand?″ The leader of the mob replied.

″Not at all.″

″Good. She's trash. But I like the idea of giving my enemies the illusion of choice.″

″Why?″

The mob leader had to ponder that question. It was one word. It was just 'why'. It could have been expanded to 'why do you do that?' but that would have been unnecessary. Four words too many. The mobster felt half-inclined to shoot his lackey here and there for asking such a short question, but he had standards. He was not about to hold out his palm and have a face up coin. A coin that did not have a down face. He was not about to shoot someone while riding in a moving vehicle. It was bad taste.

″It catches them off guard. It gives them a false sense of security. I don't know. What more do you want me to say?″

The other mobster was silent. Questions followed by questions. Eventually it gets tiresome, as questions do. The other mobster must have been tired. I, too, was tired. I had only been a ghost for so long and I was already sick of these pretentious mobsters.

″It makes you a little hard to trust when you aren't clear with your intentions,″ the other mobster finally said, choked up now. I felt like gagging.

″Listen, Curly, when have I ever let you down? Never. I would never betray your trust. Now, our enemies, like undercover cops, yeah, they deserve it. We gotta send a message, y'know?″

Man, couldn't I have died in a much better fashion? Here I was, drowning in the river, ″swimming with the fishes″ as they say, and I also was cruising along with these idiots and their stupid coin. I decided to try to use my ghost powers to do something with the coin. See what could happen if I removed it from the mob leader's palm. With an ethereal force, I could sense that I was touching it, but it could not be moved. Such humiliation, such little time on this planet.

If this ghost body could move me elsewhere, I would be back at the police station, seeing what my fellow officers were doing. Seeing what topics were being discussed. If I had some infinite, godlike power, I would find out when and how they would learn of my death. Instead I seemed to be glued, stuck to ride along with these buffoons. Buffoons with more firepower than the entire police force of the state combined, but buffoons, nonetheless.

They, and in extension, we, arrived at their base of operations. Not the place where they stashed all their drugs and all their money (the place where I died), but the place where they did all their planning. It was a little like a mansion and a little like an office, little rooms separated by little cubicles. I had a hard time figuring out whether I was at a rich person's house or back at the station.

″I just think that if we're all made up of stardust, then it's not too out there to say that we're likely all made of cocaine as well,″ one of them chimed in to a discussion that I must have missed.

″Speaking of stardust, have you ever seen the movie Scarface?″ Asked the mob boss, swaying back and forth to the beat of a horse's head.

″The original or the one with Al Pacino?″ Replied the one who asked why the mob boss didn't flip the coin on his palm.

The boss stared into a glass panel; could have been a mirror if it showed even a trace of a reflection.

″I thought the original was the one with Al Pacino,″ muttered the boss. His whole worldview must have been shattered at such a revelation. Over the course of the next thirty minutes I would hear things like ″the world would be a much better place if we all learned to love each other″ and ″Leonard Nimoy changed my life.″ None of these statements would change my life because my life ended.

If I had a body to shrug with, I would. I could no longer care about being dead after being a ghost for such a short amount of time. Sooner or later these guys would get caught and get busted. I didn't even care how it happened.

One of them was playing billiards. I would join them, but it might have freaked them out. It would have been funnier if the 8 ball was one of those magic kind. Maybe I could make something levitate. Freak one of them out. Have a bit of petty revenge. At least it would keep me occupied while I wait for the boss.

There was no way of knowing if I would ever ascend, but all I wanted was to know what was on the other side of that coin.

[badly-drawn-piplup]

Here, Back Again

″One day I would like to return to the world,″ she muttered, standing on the edge of a mass without edges, watching the giant sphere known as Earth, the thing she once lived on. It was floating, but not quite rotating. All she could do was watch it stand still. Only she was allowed to move in this space she resided on. This space that everything else was residing upon.

″One day I would like to see something move again,″ she sighed, before collapsing to the ground that didn't even feel like ground. There was sand or dirt or some sort of substance that didn't quite feel like anything. There was no name for it because there was no need for a name. It was neither a foreign substance nor a familiar one. It was very likely not even a substance. She tried drawing a line through it with her index finger but nothing came about.

She let out another sigh. ″It's always this way,″ she spoke, unsure if her words even made sound.

To say that she was in space would be a fallacy. It was more accurate to say that she was in a space between space.

She looked beside her and saw her oversized bag filled with potions, wands, ingredients, and spell books. Nothing more than trinkets where she was now at. Which wasn't really a place, but more a mistake. She was at something she had made. But it must have existed before.

Before this accident, she was in her room, which was located in a cottage. She was testing out spells and different potions, as she did. It was only then, recalling where she was and what she was doing, that she realized her mistake.

″I never left.″ She whispered. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, messing her chin up. Swelling filled her head and everything began to move. ″This is strange,″ she looked around, without her head turning. ″It's like this place is changing, but has always been this way.″

She knew exactly what was going on. The tears continued to stream and this time it was her body unable to move while the rest of the space between spaces did. Earth was inching closer and closer and she longed for the moment or eternity before where she was standing with her gear and her staff, watching the Earth, and wishing that someday she could return home.

″Maybe I'm not ready to go back home after all.″

But she knew it was not so much of a matter of ready or not.

″I don't know how it happened. Nothing was going wrong. I was doing my usual. Maybe I still am, and I just don't know it. I just don't know what I am doing right now, somewhere else, where I really am. I was there and then...I...became removed and placed somewhere that doesn't exist, but...I'm still there, aren't I?″

She had been a trained magician. Mistakes have happened, but nothing like this. Because this wasn't something she had done wrong. There were no wrong ingredients or misused spells. She existed and then stopped, without any warning or pretense. She may still exist, but she also was in a place that didn't. A place where time did not function the way she was used to. A place where nothing moves and everything is stopped. But where also was, in the place she remembered once being, time may have moved forward. Things may have moved and she may have been moving.

″But if I'm moving, why can't I feel it?″

Earth was hurtling toward her closer and closer. When it would finally hit her it would be a smack to the head.

She looked over to her bag. Her head couldn't turn, not just yet. It was sitting on a table, however, not beside her, like she had placed it when she arrived in this space between spaces.

There were books forming around her. Walls. Walls of tears were her face, that she could not bother to wipe away if she wanted to. She wasn't sitting down. She was returning.

One day...

She wasn't sure if she had stopped crying or the tears had dried or if she never shed any to begin with, but she was standing there again, waving her wand. One day was but a moment and between that moment there was an eternity of nothing where only she could move.

Where she could try to run. Try to fly, and try to fall. She could do so many things but none of them took her anywhere because there was nowhere to go. Now that she had returned, she wasn't sure if she was completely there or not or if this was Earth or somewhere else. A new dimension, perhaps?

The door creaked open and it was a cat. The cat gave a croaking mewl and she felt herself scratching the back of her head, the straw brim hat she was wearing making her hair itchy. It had been so long since she had experienced the feel of hair itching. Or maybe it was but a moment...

″I'm sorry to have worried you,″ she reassured the cat, who did not look worried. ″I was gone.″

She tried walking and found herself in that other...not a place. But once she opened the door and walked into the living room, she knew she was back in her cottage. But there was still an uncertainty that the cottage was on Earth or in her mind.

She knelt down and whispered as she pet her cat.

″Is this just a memory that cropped up or am I really back? Am I really back? Am I really back?″

The cat brushed up against her leg and she was hoping one day it would mean something.

Until that day, just a moment away, or somewhere in between, she would reach the door to the outside of her cottage and feel.