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Quote by @zeerambles

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“Running Off Of Fumes” by Bita Riazi

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TBC Moodboard 1/??

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Witness and Counselor

WC: 5599

TW: Death and Violence mentions

It had been...a long time since I’d heard from Thee-I-Dare.

I tried not to let the thoughts in the back of my mind tell me that it was my fault that it was that way. That he had found my choice lacking. That my reaction to things had been...unnecessary and unwanted. It warred in me, how anxious I was to hear back about something regarding what he’d said. When had I ended up so dependent? That wasn’t...something that I wanted to be. Ever. Hadn’t we already been cautioned on that enough about them? And yet...There were still questions I had, now that I’d had time to think about everything.

Thinking...Right. As always...that was what had done me in. 

Too much time to myself meant that the doubt started to creep in like an old house left to settle. Termites in the wood. Resolve cracking like a bad foundation in the face of sudden doubts and questions left to rise in an echo chamber.

I told him I was angry. That hadn’t been a lie. The sharp sting of all that he’d told me had burned like salt in an open wound. The days had stretched. The sting had lessened. Kyle, Muse, and Kirby frequently cast me curious looks in the boxcar or on missions. I knew as well as they did that I’d...gotten quieter. Some nights it was easier to hide. But as time went on it’d just been harder. Harder to pretend that I was alright.

I began spending more and more time in Hoadly alone. Splitting off from the boxcar before any of my friends arrived. Trying to avoid them if only for the sake of allowing myself time with my thoughts. A quiet, crueler part of me whispered it was unfair of me to subject them to my worries and fears. I’d talked a little with them sometimes but...There were some things I just couldn’t...wouldn’t explain to them.

Kyle...he adored Thee-I-Dare. I doubt that anything I would have said about my situation would have changed that. Or at least..I hoped not. I wouldn’t want to be the one who set him on a path of gnawing uncertainty like I was. This was not a road I wanted anyone to share. Muse and Kirby...well. Both of them had made their feelings clear on Thee-I-Dare. A deep seated distrust, and even hatred. I didn’t...I didn’t know what to think of him some days, but I did know that I wanted to hope for the best. Hope that he was true to his word. I wanted my trust in him to remain steady and sure. Yet something still sat heavy in my chest regardless.

I recognized it for what it was about the time that I felt the low swing of hopelessness. Grief. Or a form of it anyway. I was no stranger to it, but this old friend had come wearing a new guise and I hadn’t seen it until that moment. A realization that things were...not going to be as I had hoped. That there were obstacles and things beyond my reckoning in my way. But what did that mean for me? What did that mean for the things I was going to do?

The answer didn’t come in the silent nights. It didn’t come in the long, drawn out days where I struggled to stay awake and pretend everything was normal. It was...an impossible choice. But I knew that I would still...have to try. I would have to do something. I just...I didn’t know what. Not yet.

In the void left behind by the familiar faces I knew, I supplemented them with the advice and camaraderie of strangers. I ran missions that went later into the night, when the early blush of dawn began to creep fingers across the sky. Kids I’d never seen before came along beside me, and some of them became familiar and dear as those I already knew. It was to two, Juniper and Mur, I tended to gravitate towards on those late nights.

Juniper had theories. Lots of them. Mur...he had ideas. It was a very familiar dynamic. But in a way that Kyle was not, Mur was thoughtful and a little more suspicious. Curious and brazen in his wording, he was more tempered than what I was used to in my former teammates. It was one reason why I talked to him a little about what I’d experienced, and about why the absence of the Voice I’d pledged to follow bothered me so deeply.

It helped. At least...until the brazen kicked in.

---

“Hey! You need to go talk to Sparrow! She misses you!” I’d looked up at the sound of Mur shouting my name in the boxcar, only to find him standing arms crossed in a stubborn stance in front of the mirror.

My heart stopped. “Mur! NO!” I yelled, trying to drown him out mid-word. I knew it wouldn’t do me any good. That wasn’t how Lights worked. At least...I didn’t think it was.

“You have a lot to answer for, Thee-I-Dare!” Mur finished, just as I managed to get my hands on him and drag him from the circle.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I yelled at him.

He was grinning down at me. “Getting you results!” 

“I told you that I didn’t need anyone asking about me!” The panic seizing my chest made my breath come in pants. The words were a struggle to get out.

Mur’s expression faltered, taking me in. “Wait...you were serious?” At my frantic nod he cringed. “Oh...God. I’m so sorry, Sparrow I-... Look. As soon as I get a Light I’ll send him another. ‘Hey, just kidding!’ y’know?”

I put my face in my hands, taking a deep shuddering breath as I tried to calm down. “Yeah. Sure, Em.” The words were weak and broken. 

Great. Now not only was he not speaking to me, but now he would probably figure I’d been talking shit about the quiet to others. 

‘She misses you!’

I flinched away from the thought. Too close. Far too close to the truth there. This was...not what I needed right now. I would have to figure out something to do. Something to say. Damage control.

“Sparrow, I’m sorry.” Mur tried again. I waved him off.

“It’s fine. I’ll deal with it. I’m...gonna go. I’ll catch you in a few days, okay?” I called over my shoulder, vanishing into the night. Vanishing into a mission. I just...had to be careful not to vanish all together…

The dim rays of the filtering dawn found me standing in front of a mirror, Light in place on the altar. I apologized for the hasty words someone else had sent on my behalf. I didn’t need them to fight my battles for me. To summon him. I was patient and could wait. He was already limited. He was already doing the best he could. He had so many who were reaching out to him. What use was one more voice raised to bother him? I could cope.

There was plenty to do in Redacre in the meantime, and armed with that knowledge and a steeled determination to wait, to not draw further attention to myself, I returned to my solitude in Hoadly.

---

It’s fine. 

Given a few weeks, I started to fool even myself. Took the time to tamp it all down. To turn my gaze to other things. The mystery of Colm. The broken symbol. The strange Hunter. The Unknown Caller. There was plenty to tide me over. New aspects and facets to turn over carefully in my mind as I explored the depths of the Maze and diligently collected signs and evidence of CHORUS’ stranger, darker handiwork.

Or at least, that’s what I told myself, even as I took the time to try very hard...not to think. About any of it. It was easier that way. My focus was simply...in the moment. On the things I could do now. The path in the Maze and the places I’d been, my senses sharp for the sound of footsteps nearby, and the delicate sound of tumblers clicking in the lock. A gentle ‘click’, and I was pushing the door carefully open into the room filled with lockers. My eyes were peeled for any signs of Lucids as a bloody red light clicked on and off overhead like a forgotten alarm.

A laptop I’d spied through a window was perched, forgotten, on the top of one of the long sets of lockers. A quick vault onto the worn metal, and a quick snap of my phone’s camera, and the missing person’s report on the screen was recorded for later. I slid back to the ground, rising from a crouch. Absently, I reached up and carefully shut the laptop, considering the picture I’d just taken, and taking a moment to flick through the rest as I started to stride off again.

He took me by surprise.

YOU ARE NEVER A BOTHER TO ME.

My heart thundered in my chest and I took a half step back, startled. “Jesus.” I hissed, drawing in a ragged, steadying breath. He was here. Never a bother, he’d said. I clenched my jaw. So he had heard that. Grand. Now...now what? Uncertainty rose, cloying, in my chest. “Hi…” the words sounded meek, and I did my best to add more strength to my voice to no avail. “Been a bit.” The hush of my own voice pressed in on me, and I wanted to kick myself for my own obvious hesitations.

You’re fine. You’re supposed to be fine!

IT HAS. ALWAYS TOO LONG.

I wondered if that should comfort me, that he seemed to dislike the absences as much as I had. But I also could barely think past my own unease, the nerves. I knew the things I wanted to say. To confront him about...but…

I resisted the urge to scrub at my face, deciding to tamp that all down, as I was best at, and speak instead as I walked. Alternative forms of distraction. “Yeah...you’re spread a little thinner these days.” What was I even saying? I could barely form a thought, as I tried to find...somewhere to go. My concentration fragmenting as I pushed through the Nerve Center and down into one of the String Relays. 

JUST SLOW. WE MUST MEET, CONFER. ONE BY ONE. TEDIOUS.

Right. He still didn’t have full reign. Couldn’t speak freely to those who called to him unless they beckoned. “Right. Limited by...the Lights.” A Sleeper stood at an instrument console, bringing me up short. I paused, considering quietly before giving a shake of my head and moving to turn around and head back in the direction of the ladder. I had no idea where to go. Where I could just...stand to speak to him that would be safe. The surface above me seemed suddenly so very far away, and I felt...cornered. It was a strange and uncomfortable feeling. One that I wasn’t used to in Thee-I-Dare’s presence.

I hated it very much.

YES. HOW ARE YOU, SPARROW?

Silence greeted him in reply, my hesitation ringing clear. 

Say something! My brain screamed at me.

Tact flew out the window in the face of earnestness. “I’m not...sure how to answer that. Not unless you want a really loaded answer.” I wanted to take the words back, even as I let them out. But it was too late now. “You left me with a lot to think about, last time.” I finished, standing in the midst of Nerve Center. The loud ring of the disc above did little for my fraying nerves.

I AM JUST ONE WEARY OLD VOICE. YOU NEED NOT LISTEN TO SUCH.

The drawn out hiss and rasp of the disc above me set my teeth on edge and I fled down into Ingestion, back in the direction of String Supply. I may not have needed to listen to him, but...he was a friend. I sought out his advice as often as my friends. Perhaps that was a dangerous reliance but...His words carried weight. Too late for me to realize that I’d landed myself potentially neck deep in the danger of the Voices they all warned us of.

Little fool.

I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what he expected me to say. By the time I found my words, they were halted and stumbling. “Maybe not...but…” they broke off on a sigh as he stirred forth, the words rising again behind my eyes, within my head.

I AM SORRY IF I SEEMED CALLOUS.

The apology surprised me, and my head came up at it, blinking into the length of the hallway. I’d thought they were above that sort of thing. All of them. Even him. Admitting they were...wrong, even if it was just in the way they carried themselves. “It…” I took a deep and steadying breath, letting it out once again. The words were finally sorting themselves in my head as I carefully stepped up the stairs in String Supply.

“It was more than you being callous, though...It...Look, I understand that you want to help keep us realistic about the things going on here...But if you’re gonna do that? I’m going to keep you honest too.” I valued the fact that he wanted to keep me on the same page. That he kept me from getting carried away on a falsified idea of my own mind’s creation. But if he was going to lie to me like I lied to myself...I wouldn’t be able to stand for it. The exchange was moot.

I thought back to everything over the last few weeks, the things I’d turned over in my head that had hedged into doubts, into uncertainties. Would it be wrong to call him out on them? What would it mean or say to him about me, that I was keeping a sharp eye out for these sorts of things? It was too late now to back down, though. I’d already said I would keep him honest. I might as well bury the knife, even if it was in my own chest. “I’m pretty sure that...some of the things you said...have been saying lately…” I went on in a slow, careful measure. “I’m not sure...if you’re going against your own word or if you’re just bleeding all over the place with your ideologies.”

There was a lengthy pause as I hefted myself onto the rafters above, the white painted beams that overlooked the Throat became the place that I settled down, straddling the wood. Always perching somewhere high, little bird. I shoved the wry words away into the back of my head. 

His extended silence kicked my nerves into gear again and I rubbed a hand down my face, muffling my words. “I was mad about it before but now I’m just...tired,” It was as much of a confessional as I would ever give. It was so dangerously, perilously close to the truth of everything I felt over the last month. “And not sure what to do with this. I don’t know where it stands with you.” I trailed off my mumbling, looking out at the yawning chasm far below. I shivered involuntarily and drew my jacket tighter around me.

YOUR VOICE FADES, SPARROW.

I blinked, hit with a simultaneous bout of relief and embarrassment. He’d missed it. All of that. Not for the first time, I wondered how his senses worked in relation to mine. Or was it...in conjunction? I didn’t know. Regardless, the apology from me came swiftly. “I’m...muttering to myself.” It was as much of a casual brush off as I could give it. A reprieve granted to me from the universe. “I think the day took a toll. I’ll speak up.” His time was limited as it was, I didn’t need him to deal with me mumbling on top of it all as well, even if it had saved me this time.

I AM YOUR WITNESS, COUNSELOR.

I couldn’t help the small, tired smile at the descriptions.

WHERE HAVE I SPOKEN FALSELY?

The smile faded and I let out a long breath. “Well…There’s a couple of things I can think of.” I trailed off, letting my thoughts gather as I let my eyes fall down to the ground below. Things he’d said. Things he’d done. The way I’d been told he was acting by others in the Club. He’d called himself a mirror to us and our emotions...but sometimes there was something off even in those reflections. It made me cringe a little to think I had caught him lying. To prove that the liar was what he was and always would be...But I also needed to let him know that he wouldn’t be able to slip this sort of thing by me. That I would be watching, and paying attention.

“Well, the first thing that I know of is...you...A long time ago I asked you a hard question about you not wanting to die?” An old conversation. He thought that we were better off without him and his kind and yet… “And then...you pull martyrdom onto the table and you’re starting to sound a lot like Die-For-You, now.” He’d asked something of Krystal. She hadn’t been able to hide it from me. She’d taken me aside and told me point blank. 

“Thee-I-Dare asked me to talk to In-Her-Teeth. To tell her that if she helps him against SAO, that he’ll give himself up. That she can have him.”

He would die. 

I flinched back from the thought, feeling the very idea begin to choke up my throat. 

Not now. You need to…Just talk, Sparrow. Think about this later.

I took a shaky breath, my voice thicker but finally unsticking from my throat. The next was...important. “And then, you tell us all the time that you don’t judge...and yet you have condemned an entire group of people. That sounds a lot like judging, to me.” He’d condemned the Lucids. Normally...I wouldn’t have argued. I’d seen them. Had no love for them myself. But now, with that niggling thought in the back of my head that my own dad could be one of them, enscripted amongst the ranks...The stakes had gotten so very very high. I couldn’t wish him harm. I loved him too much. I’d already lost too much from my dwindling family.

DOES ONE SIT IN JUDGMENT OF A TIGER?

I exhaled a harsh breath, steeling myself as the words burned across my mind. Firm though they were, I didn’t think he intended to be unkind. Merely stating...the truth. He’d told me he could lie about it. But that he wouldn’t. I could only hope that promise continued to now.

WHAT THE LUCIDS ARE NOW...THEY WILL NOT HESITATE.

Something fierce sparked up in my chest. Anger. Anger at him and this...this entire situation. He made them sound like cold blooded killers. Shuffled them all neatly into a box of one particular idea and tendency. “They’re people!” I snapped, the bite in my tone surprising me.

WHEN MY MAKERS PULL THE STRINGS...THEY ARE WEAPONS.

The fire in my chest banked. It was tempered, but it hadn’t disappeared. I sat back, jaw setting. So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?

“Is that what we’re all supposed to be? Is that why it sounds like killing being brought to Redacre is supposed to be the most interesting way to ‘shake things up’?” I thought back to Seed-The-Grudge being allowed on the table, to The-Measure-Cuts being interested to see what she brought to Redacre. The rest of her siblings being alright with that. The Hunter prowling in the dark unchecked...I felt disgust twist deep in my chest along with that burning swell. The Maestro wanted human weapons. Did the other Voices want the same thing? That I was supposed to be alright with killing my own father or watching him die was...very telling. “Is that what’s expected?” The echo of my own voice bounced back to me from the Throat and the walls around me. A sleeper passing below paused.

Too loud. Take it down a notch, kid.

I took a shaky breath. Let it out. Counted to three. 

“‘Cause I can’t do that. I’ll find every other way first.” Stubborn. So damn stubborn. But...it was all I had right now. What could I say to a god? A Voice? An ancient thing that had likely debated this sort of thing with wiser men and women time and again through centuries…

I tried not to think too hard about that.

I TOLD YOU. YOU CAN ALWAYS RUN.

The fire guttered, extinguished. I slumped on the beam. Again. Again telling me to run. To get out of here. No soldier. No fighter. Just a scared little bird yelling on her branch about her morality with no place here, even as she tried to protect those she loved.

“I don’t think running is really an option either. What am I going to do outside of Redacre by myself? Where would I go? Who would I have? If I even made it out at all?”

A fourteen year old kid in the mountains of Virginia, alone and without anything or anyone to her name. Where the hell was I supposed to go from there? How was I expected to survive that? I didn’t even have the guarantee of a Voice in my head at that point. Just me. Against the world. It was too daunting to begin to consider. I drew my knees up to my chest, wrapping arms tightly around them.

SPARROW…

I felt it like a tired sigh, and I hunched deeper into my tight posture. Clenching my eyes shut against what I was sure would be another lecture did little when the words burned themselves across the back of my eyelids.

MANY TRUE GREAT STORIES BEGIN THUS. ALONE. NOTHING TO YOUR NAME...EXCEPT CHOICE.

I cringed back from the idea. “So you’d paint it as heroics.” I was the furthest thing from that. A hero. I was a kid. I was barely passing algebra. I had no idea what the fuck I was doing, and I was talking to a Voice in my head. By all accounts, I was insane. There was nothing admirable or great about this story. I was just as likely to become a milk carton kid as the next teen in our scrappy Club. Voice in my head or otherwise.

“That breaks every choice that I made to start, here” I rubbed tiredly at my eyes. “Do you know why I joined the Club, long ago? It was to find out what happened to my dad...and then, my motivations are...completely thrown to the wayside when I hear that I can’t fix this. I have to find a way. I have to try.” I felt my voice beginning to break, and paused, swallowing the knot in my throat. “People make choices every day. It’s what we do. Who’s to say they can’t undo the choices they’ve already made? We’re not static.” We’re not gods. We can change.

I had to believe I could fix this. Had to believe I could save him. What did I have if I didn’t? Where did I go? What did I do otherwise?

NOT HEROICS. WHAT DO I ALWAYS SAY?

I was silent, and though we both knew the answer, it came regardless.

SURVIVAL.

 I clenched my jaw, eyes sliding shut and huddled deeper into my dad’s large coat. “Survival at the cost of others?” I asked, the words were soft but the accusation was there, bleeding into the tones.

IN YOUR VISION...WHAT IS VICTORY?

“Victory here?” He’d caught my by surprise. I blinked into the dim light of the Maze, thinking. The answers I came up with were...remarkably childish. “Probably the most naive version of it.” I responded, feeling foolish. Feeling terribly, terribly young. “Things work out. We break the doom harp...No one has to die…” In some pretty, golden universe, somewhere. Maybe that would happen. Not here. Not in Redacre. I refused to let my eyes do more than sting as I sat feeling like an idiot for my answer.

THE INSTRUMENT? LONG BEFORE IT…THEY STILL WON. TIME AND AGAIN. DEEP DOWN, MOST OF YOUR PARENTS...THEY DO NOT WANT OUT. NOT TRULY.

I listened, thoughts flashing. One stuck out sharply in my head. The laptop in the boxcar, our stolen evidence and logged conversations. The discussion between the Dead Skeptic and Bells. “‘It takes a particular kind of person to come to Redacre.’” I recited miserably, my voice low and barely even audible to my own ears.

YOU SPOKE TOO SOFTLY THERE…

I didn’t deign to repeat myself, already feeling like I’d kicked myself enough.

BUT...YES. SO ONE MUST ASK ONESELF...CAN WE SAVE THOSE WHO WANT IT NOT?

I lifted my head from the cradle of my knees, brows furrowing as I focused on the deep cavern below.

SHOULD WE?

Choice. Choice again. Even as much as it felt like a test, the words poured out without a thought. “What if it interferes with...Is what’s going on here interfering with their free will?”

I clipped the words short, rubbing my hands against my face. The caste system. The Sleepers and the Lucids. One may have been in the dark, hooded and unknowing, beckoned by the Song but the Lucids. The Lucids knew. They acted at the behest of what they thought they understood. What they thought was right. Like Muse, they had picked their Voice. Made their own decision. “...Well in some cases.” I tapered off and shook my head, abandoning the argument on a sigh. “God...I’m answering my own questions.”

But what did that mean? Did that mean that I had to sit back and let it happen anyway? Just because...just because this was the way it was…did that mean it was the way it had to be? I’d told him, hadn’t I, that humans weren’t static. That we could change our minds. Make new choices. “Does it...It can’t hurt to still try?” The words were quiet, wavering, and so full of uncertain hope. It felt like a fragile thing to ask there, in the darkness. These words offered to a tired Voice who had already cautioned me for the path that I’d picked, felt like they had a chance to break me on the answer. I buried my head back against my knees, waiting for him to speak again.

OUR RITUAL TIME IS TOO BRIEF, BUT...FIRST. SPARROW. YOU ARE RIGHT.

I looked up, looking for eyes to meet that weren’t there. Such a human reaction I never seemed to beat around the Voices.

TO TRY IS A CHOICE. YOURS, IT SEEMS.

I couldn’t get a sense for his tone. Couldn’t tell if he was unhappy with my decisions. These choices that I continued to make. I thought back to everything I’d said. The sting of my own naivety. The uncertainty. I was making my choices regardless. I closed my eyes again. Why does it feel like the fool’s errand, then?

I hadn’t even realized I’d spoken it aloud.

BECAUSE, SPARROW...YOU ARE GROWING UP.

I laughed, and it wasn’t a thing of humor. It was pained and broken. Frustrated and tired. “Well. This sucks!”

YES.

I sat there in the silence between us for a moment. Taking another moment to have a deep breath and try and gather myself again. Not to rally, but to center. “But, I knew when I joined the Club that I’d have to fight...tooth and nail if that’s what it took. This place doesn’t give easy victories. It always has a price. But I know what I want to do. I know where my lines are drawn.” The words were more for me than for him. A reassurance. An understanding of what I was here to do and what I understood would come of it. The things I would give up, and the things that I wouldn’t.

I WOULD OFFER THIS. IT MAY HURT.

Foreboding curled in my chest. I had a feeling I knew where this was going. It gave me time to brace. Gave me time to...to lie. To myself.

YOU SPOKE OF MARTYRDOM.

“I mentioned it…” The words rolled weakly off my tongue.

I THINK ONLY OF FREEING YOUR KIND…

“...right.” 

WHAT IF, EVEN NOW...YOU WOULD BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT ME?

What if he was gone, too? I buried my face back in my arms. It did little to block out his words. 

WHAT IF YOU SAVED THEM ALL?

Don’t cry, Sparrow. Don’t you dare fucking cry. Not now. Please not now. Not in front of him.

Hold it together.

Save them all. More heroics. More sacrifices. More loss. God. Why was it always...so much more loss. I shied back from that thought. I opened my mouth and let myself speak. “I get what you’re implying. I know you’ve...mentioned it to others. A lot of people have freaked out about it but…” I trailed off, not letting in that I had been one of them. That I had heard the words Krystal had told me and froze, dumbstruck. Had grieved at the very idea, had felt like a fool for how dangerously...attached I had gotten. For how much I had come to care in a place that was ready to take everything from you. 

“There’s some things that I already know…” I garbed myself with the truth. The easiest way to lie to myself. Reasoning. The way it was. The way it would be. Even as desperately as I had fought that before. In this moment...I couldn’t bring myself to challenge him. He gave me a choice. Didn’t he deserve to have his? “It was quiet in my head before I came to Redacre. If it’s quiet again when I leave? That’s just things going back to normal.”

No more Voices. That’s what he wanted. A silent world without the ‘gods’. Without their influence and sway taking over our lives. I’d stepped as much into a nightmare as into a strange fantasy novel. There were perks. There were...friends. But it all came with a cost. It all came with grief.

“I’ve...I’ve had to deal with losing people that are important to me before. And it hurts. But...you can live with it.” I thought back to my brother. I thought back to my dad who was still hadn’t come home. “ You don’t want it. But you can do it. I don’t demand that price of anybody though. I don’t ask anybody to give their life for mine. For anyone’s.”

I just...I don’t want anyone else to die.

My eyes burned. I squeezed them shut and buried my face back in the crook of my arms.

YOU MAY BE THE BEST OF US, CHILD. TELLING THE OLD WORLD IT IS WRONG.

There was comfort in the words, though I felt little of it in the face of my own sorrows. I was merely silent in response. I had nothing else to offer in that moment, and didn’t trust myself to speak further. 

HAVE A CARE NOW, MY SPARROW. YOUNG TRUTH SPEAKERS END UP DEAD.

The chill that slid up my spine had nothing to do with the cool air of the Maze. The shiver morphed into a thread of steel. “They’ll have to catch me first.” I said firmly. The words were braver than I felt. But I also knew that I was never the kind to go without a fight, even if I was afraid.

I WILL HELP YOU AS LONG AS I CAN.

It felt like the final nail in the coffin. An admission that he wouldn’t be around. Not always. I didn’t let myself dwell. Instead I let my words slip back and away from something too emotional. Back to something safer and friendly, ringing false to my own ears, even as the tone was all wrong for the cheer the words should have held.

“You know that any help that you give so far has been...appreciated. You’re one of the best backers this Club has.”

There was so much I could have said instead. Wanted to say. 

I’m sorry.

I hate this.

Please, I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to lose someone else I care about.

But I bit them all back. Held my tongue. It would be better this way....wouldn’t it? I had survived this before. Just...now I knew it was coming. Now I knew to brace myself. The world was rarely so kind as to issue a warning for grief. Shouldn’t that have made it easier? Shouldn’t I be thankful?

SURVIVE. A VOICE LIKE YOURS...MUST.

I managed to squeeze out a small, choked “Goodnight.” And then he was gone.

I took a wavering breath and felt the tears begin to track down my face. I balled up tight on the rafters and let myself have that moment. Let myself grieve for the things not said. For the things to come.

Around me, the Maze hummed the song of the Instrument, and the night carried on.

[radiodreadzone]

“p l e a” by Stephanie Rose

[radiodreadzone]

That only made her wonder all the more. What scared the Hunter? Her mind trailed back to the symbol. The recordings. Everything surrounding 922. She wondered if maybe that was it. Kyle had sent a Light about those things as she’d watched. Maybe that was it. Kyle had ever been the schemer. His intelligence was also likely something that Coyote had noticed. 

“Kyle!” She laughed, throwing a stray bag of chips at the other boy. “I appreciate it. We gotta watch each other’s backs, after all.”

"Oh yeah, the Hunter actually responded to one of my prayers recently, forgot to mention that... Still not going to follow him though" - Kyle

Sparrow froze, one hand over the track pad of the laptop. Slowly, she shut it. “You…he…He did what?!” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. By the sudden widening of her eyes to near saucer size, it was very clear that this was not good news to the girl. She’d thought the Hunter had left them all well enough alone. And now this?

“W…what did he say?” She asked, before adding quickly, “What did you say?” Kyle had never been one to leave an answer on ‘read’.

[radiodreadzone]

"Sparrow, THEE-I-DARE gave me this cool new mask!" - Kyle

Sparrow looked up at Kyle’s voice and damn near startled at what she saw. Shining in the dim light of the boxcar, the curling form of the mask looked so eerily like Thee-I-Dare’s symbol and like a shifting flame that for a moment the effect was…uncanny. She blinked, mouth falling open. There were a few rumors that a mask given by him and linked to his symbol had popped up, but she’d never seen one. “Kyle…” she breathed. “Whoah…that is…So cool?!” She gasped, rocketing up to stand closer to him and inspect it. 

[radiodreadzone]

Quote by Rooba Maryam

[radiodreadzone]

Pieces of You

WC: 2,316

TW: Death mentions (Fragments)

"C'mon...C'mon!" I hissed under my breath, shifting the pin in my hand carefully. I glanced up and around, keeping an eye out for any approaching Sleepers or Lucids that might happen upon me messing with the Daycare's locks. Learning to lock pick had been...interesting. Dax and Gwen had made sure it was a skill in every kid's arsenal. I'd picked it up fast, but on some nights, I still struggled with getting the tumblers to line up in the dark.

The lock finally gave, and the screwdriver twisted, the deadbolt sliding free with a tell-tale 'click'. I puffed out a sigh of relief and shouldered the doors open. Old Growth was the bane of my existence, requiring a lot of time and effort to move around in. My friends tended to think a boot was a better option for navigating it's classrooms. I was inclined to agree, so long as I had the foam to muffle the signs of my passing. But if I had the picks, I'd go with them every time. It kept...things from noticing I'd been here.

There was hearsay that there'd finally been sightings of fragments within the walls of Old Growth. Long ago, I'd heard rumors that Thee-I-Dare had told a few individuals that he'd once lost hosts here. Many hosts. It'd stood to reason that we'd come across them. Eventually.

But Old Growth had remained empty. Whatever ghosts had haunted its halls had remained out of sight, as if fearful of the new eyes and feet that tread here.

But when we'd started to find them...it'd been in droves.

The numbers were astounding. Someone reported three in one building, and another at the lonely gardener's shed up the road. It'd been some time since I'd come across any of his fragments myself, and I'd thought, perhaps, this would be the best time to begin looking again.

I told myself it wasn't for lack of trying to find them. It really wasn't...but there was also something to be said for the weight of it, when I picked up fragments. Especially so many in a short amount of time. They took a toll, in some small way. But the method and manner was...hard to describe.

I slipped quietly through the light and shadow of the daycare, my eyes sharp on the windows for the figures of Lucids outside. Every now and then, I let my attention slip away, looking for the places I'd been told to seek out fragments.

They weren't there.

I muttered a low expletive under my breath, turning away from the last known location of the wing, ducking back into the first floor. I'd seen some supply crates, and knew it was time to stock back up again. I had other places still to dig through before the end of the night and I called the mission ended. My mind wandered as I saw myself through the far corners of the classroom and then upwards towards the bathrooms that faced the sonic fence and trees outside.

Sometimes in a mission, I don't quite...blackout..so much as I set myself on an autopilot. In that moment, it felt something like that. Except instead of my usual path, I changed directions. In retrospect, maybe I was drawn. Or maybe it was just dumb luck.

Rather than leaving through the door I came in, as would be easiest, I cut across the broad swathe of windows, glancing at both windows and stalls as I passed. Only to stop dead at the wisp of something against the wall in the back of the stall.

A fragment.

What a terrible place to die.

It was the first ludicrous thought to drift through my head, quickly followed by the realization that I hadn't heard anything about this one. Dread and sorrow coiled up in my gut.

Thee-I-Dare was frequently asked stories about his fallen Hosts. They seemed...to take a toll on him when they were brought up. The weight of grief. It was a familiar one. Even now I stared at the name fragment in trepidation, both afraid of what it meant and of what it would do.

I had told myself I would never ask Thee-I-Dare about his Hosts. Not the fallen ones. I didn't want to probe at old wounds, fresh or scarred. Curiosity did not forgive callousness. But I had given myself one stipulation.

If no one else had ever found them, if I was the first to find the end of their story, I would let him know they'd been found. Would let him know that they were here, and that they had been recovered. It seemed the least that I could do. My hands clenched at my side a moment, one slowly sliding into my coat pocket to pull out my phone.

"Hi..." My words were soft as I studied the wisp against the wall. A part of me felt a touch ridiculous for talking to it. But the majority of me didn't care. This was all that was left of a person, someone who had passed here.  If people could talk to gravestones, I could talk to a fragment. "I'm sorry." I murmured, pulling up my flashlight and closing my eyes.

Braced myself.

For the sheer number of name fragments that we know of, for the amount of people that are lost across Hoadly and the Maze, the stories of those we do know are sparse and far between. But the sensations that come with them are always similar, save a few outliers. As important as it was to me to continue to help Thee-I-Dare...despite things that happened, there was a reason that I took breaks in my fragment hunting.

One never quite got used to the sensation.

Hot and cold, heavy and light. Ephemeral and ineffable. It was the sensation of holding onto something that was Not Meant For Me. A part of something bigger, greater. Ancient. And yet like an undercurrent it rang with things all too familiar. Human.

They were memories. They had been just like me once.

Panic. Grief. Anger. Relief. Any one or even all of them had been expressed by fragments collected in the past. I tried to focus past it, to see the silhouette that burned against the back of my eyes, the impression of this person before they faded and I took them in for safekeeping. Reaching, grasping for something.

I opened my eyes, a hand fisted in my shirt against my chest. I was shaking a bit as I tried to steady my breathing against the tide that slowly stemmed, quieted. It was unsettling every time.

"I'm sorry." I said again to the space it had been.

Sometime between one blink and the next I found myself in the boxcar again. A Light was in my hand as I stared uncertainly at the mirror.

We still hadn't spoken.

Well...I had. But the silence was ringing again. I tried not to let it bother me. The hard questions still sat in my chest, waiting to be unknotted. Waiting for the doubt and uncertainty to be allowed to give way. Waiting to stop...being afraid. A long exhale of a sigh out of my nose, and I sent the Light.

I let him know that I had found them.

A report and nothing more. My silent war with myself kept off the table.

---

I found more as the nights stretched by. More within the walls of Old Growth. In the places that people had told me of. It was as if the floodgates had opened in the finding of that one lost soul. One here in a room with an instrument and closed feed television. Another in the counselor's office. A third in the main classroom pressed against the wall. All carrying the weight and emotions of their last moments, leaving me shivering under the passing weight.

I let my own stay buried, deep down where I'd left them. Behind that door I'd locked and barred.

A time and a place, Sparrow. Not here. Not now.

Instead, I allowed myself instead to focus on the fact that I'd managed to make headway after months of standstill. That I'd finally started to pick up the pieces of Thee-I-Dare's name once again. Progress was progress, even if it came with the cost of knocking me loose from a more stable balance.

Stable. Right.

I tried not to scoff at myself. Thriving and stability weren't words I would use. Surviving, ironically, worked well. Exhaustion clung. The daylight hours dragged into the night. The conflicts raged on as tempers grew short on lack of sleep. I tried to rest where I could. But it wasn't sustainable. I knew it. The others knew it. We could see it in each other, running like a fearful undercurrent in all of us.

No one talked about it.

I continued to run the Maze. I kept finding sad stories.

Dream Therapy...I'm not sure if I'll ever say that I like any part of the Maze. But that place...it's interesting. I'll give it that. It had plenty of places to use as a vantage point. Shadows and light. The twisted, organic forms of false trees. Aside from the fact that you could lose a favorite boot to a few of the nooks and crannies, I found it a preferable and quiet spot to be. The low, green light reminded me of long mornings spent on the back trails. I could almost let the images superimpose if I let myself.

But that was too close. Too close to letting the illusion of the Maze creep over reality. It was a waking nightmare buried beneath our feet. It needed to stay here. If not be sealed away forever.

A time and a place. I repeated to myself.

I eased down one of the false trees of Dream Therapy, eyes casting from the ground to the distance for anything nearby that would hear my drop to the planks below.

Just like before, it was a complete accident that I even saw it at all. I thought it was a trick of the light.

In the yawning chasm that the facsimile of a forest in Dream Therapy oversaw, a yellow pipe stretched across the gap. It was a treacherous crossing, but it was a quick and easy way to avoid the grasp of Lucids and even the Shape if you were careful and fast. They knew better than to tread upon it, both for fear of it giving way, and for the lethal slip into the abyss below.

It was at the bend of that yellow pipe that I thought I saw something from across the distance. The low light made it hard to tell. Curiosity ate at me, and I slipped through the shadows to get closer. Across the planked floor, onto the catwalk. I crept carefully past the red door, my eyes firmly glued to it, watching and waiting in case something decided to come forth. It remained immobile, the warding eye staring balefully back.

From the edge of the catwalk, I could already feel my stomach clench at the tell tale sign of the wafting mist. Another one. One I'd never even seen or heard of before.

Another tally for your list, kid.

I crept out onto the pipe, being careful of my footing. It didn't take a genius to figure out what had happened to this one. The chasm below me, the location at the edge of the pipe. It all spoke for itself.

I slipped carefully down from my feet to a sitting position, straddling the pipe. "Found you." The words were sad, even as I gave it a small, tired smile. "You poor thing." I trailed off on a long sigh. Up came my phone, on came the light. I hesitated only a moment before I closed my eyes.

Panic.

Raw, and sheer like the cutting edge of stone. It hit me in the chest and made me gasp before it was gone.

I shuddered, gripping the pipe tighter. A silhouette, tipped forward over the abyss.

They fell.

I stared at the wall where the fragment had been, shivering even in my dad's jacket. I stayed there for a long time, staring at the wall, afraid to move. My  hands were grasped tightly on the rivets of metal in the pipe. If anything came and went, I was too lost to the aftershocks of the experience to notice them.

It was the buzz of my phone that finally drew me out of my stupor.

A part of me cringed in fear of seeing an unknown number on my home screen. But no, it was the group text with Kyle and Muse. They were wondering where I was. I had to get up and I had to move again.

I shifted, carefully sliding myself back in the direction of the catwalk. I didn't fully trust my legs in that moment. I didn't want to try to stand until there was a buffer between me and swift end. Even then, I sat in the shadows for several long minutes, trying to just breathe.

Another Light to send. I would have to do it when I got back to the boxcar.

I could barely concentrate. I was glad that I'd already finished my objectives by the time I'd found this one. I don't think I would have been able to actively do things without drawing forth unwanted attention. I crept quietly and carefully out of the Maze, wishing not for the first time that I had a grappling hook, just so I could leave through the broken path up the cliff rather than risk the deep belly of the Maze.

The journey back to the boxcar, the Light, me going home. All of it a blur. A wash of light, color, and vague memories. A silent night muddled by circumstance.

I curled up in my bed at home buried under the blankets.

That's enough Fragments for a while.

[radiodreadzone]

Be Still // The Killers

[radiodreadzone]

It'd been a few days. I still had...no idea how to feel about it all. I was still lost to the hum of uncertainty in my chest. It'd returned to take it's place like a muffling veil around the resolve that had settled in me like a weight. With Krystal's encouragement, I'd found my voice to send a Light to...her. She was the one who oversaw death, right? The one who might have perspective on what warranted a just end. A good end. Or maybe not one at all. It'd seemed fitting to seek her advice. I just...I didn't know if she would even hear me. A part of me thought she would. But the chances of her listening? Responding? Slimmer. By leagues. I was not hers.

But...where did that leave me with Thee-I-Dare? He'd shaken me with his words. In the wake of the shock came...anger. Deep and biting in it's ferocity. The fact that he would say something like that, then in another breath, tell me that I could run if I needed to. It...it didn't solve the problem. He still had his plans. He wanted to protect me from what I would find here if it all ended on the worst note...I could respect him for that. But it didn't change how I felt. Not right now. I...

I looked at the altar and the Light I'd left burning there.

"I'm mad at you right now. But I don't hate you. I can't. Not for the truth..."

My eyes shifted, moving up to meet my own in the mirror.

There was no halo.

The shimmering marker given to me by Thee-I-Dare had simply...vanished. I didn't know what it meant. Perhaps that I'd disappointed him after all. Or maybe it was me. Maybe I just didn't want to see it right now. I had no way of knowing what the answer truly was. That was what scared me.

"I'll...talk to you again soon, okay?"

I would. I just...I didn't know when. Maybe when I had more information. Maybe when I finally thought that I could stand it all. I told him I didn't hate him. It was true. I just...didn't know what to say.

I turned away. 

I stopped to grab a bandanna before I left the boxcar, fixing it around my neck. With one last look back at the small flame burning on the altar in the distance, I pulled the fabric up over my face and stepped into the night.

[radiodreadzone]

Irredeemable

WC: 4,451

TW: Blood, death and death mentions, mentions of panic attacks.

It was as casual a night as you could call it. A little ridiculous, a little wild and out of the park, all things considered, so far. Gwen had paired me off with two names I’d heard around the Club but never really run with before. Some hot-shot loud-mouth named Icy, and a calmer, reasonable sort in the form of Burrick. Missions with them so far had been...interesting. Icy was full of bluster, if not charming in his own way. I had more fun than I probably should have sassing him over the coms, Burrick occasionally interjecting. 

We weren’t nearly as thorough in our explorations as I was with Muse, Kyle, and Kirby when we all ran together, but it was gloriously chaotic. It was also deliciously funny to hear Icy screeching panicked complaints into the coms. I’d had to crank the volume on mine way down not only to prevent him deafening me like a flashbang, but to keep Sleepers and Lucids alike from swinging in my direction any time that Icy met with any aspect of misfortune.

I’d been following a trail of blood through the Maze, the gravity of the situation of a missing club member slightly shattered by Icy’s continued attempts to lighten the mood. His constant wittering was as ridiculous as it was soothing in a strange way. It kept me from thinking too much, even as he bypassed Sleepers and Lucids with apparent ease as we entered the Plexus. His words were drowned out by the great bellows above, but the hum of his voice over my earpiece was as consistent as ever.

“Looking at all this blood, they’re probably dead!” His tone was light, but I could see the jerkiness to his movements. As nervous as I was, maybe. Or maybe he just wasn’t graceful.

The blood trails when they were this long rarely had happy endings. A small part of my heart fluttered with a vain hope that maybe they would be...even as Icy scoffed at me for saying as much, going on about mortal wounds as we crept into Signal Relay. A Lucid was walking through on patrol, and ignoring Icy a moment, I took careful aim. 

“A robotomy!” Icy declared theatrically, causing me to snort as I took my shot, missing the Lucid’s back by a breadth, and ruffling Icy’s hair as the bolt barreled past.

“Did you just try to shoot at me?!” Icy barked in surprise.

“No. I missed the Lucid.” I stated, lowering my crossbow, even as I smiled slightly at him. Let him think what he wanted. I could already see the mock betrayal flash in his eyes, and I let it fuel my laughter, muffling it with a hand over my mouth at the proximity of the Lucid.

Then I saw the body behind him.

“Oh.” I said softly.

Another one down. Another one we’d lost. “Geeze.” Icy muttered. There was a beat of silence where he shifted from a slight sag in his posture to resume his apparent carefree air. “Well, they’re dead!” He declared into the coms. I could hear Burrick’s resigned sigh on the other end.

One more body that would be imprinted in my mind. They were turned away from me where they lay. I was glad for it. I didn’t need another face to add to the tally in my mind. I kept track. I never told anyone. But every time I saw another one of us down here...gone…

It was haunting, in it’s own way. But would they have anyone who would remember them? Who would tell their family? God. I didn’t even know who they were. But Gwen and Dax did. This would be another hard night for them. Another hard call.

I turned away.

He arrived so quietly and suddenly that had the thought that brushed across my mind not been so at odds with the swell of grief I felt in that moment, I wasn’t sure I would have noticed his presence at all.

SHE HAS GOTTEN AHOLD OF WHOM?

My steps out of Signal Relay stuttered to a halt at the flickering thought of inquiry, leaving me blinking in the half light. I could hear Icy saying something to me in the background, but I missed it in the moment of surprise and confusion. “Sorry...I don’t…?” It was a mad fumbling of words as I tried to gather my wits. He always seemed to catch me off guard.

Thee-I-Dare? Again? He’d been by earlier to speak with a teammate, and whatever they’d discussed had left her...troubled. She’d called it a night and bid us farewell as we’d left for another mission. I hadn’t expected him to come back. Much less to come talk to me.

What had I last told him..?

A flicker of a memory; staring down my reflection in front of the ritual mirror, wringing the worn edge of dad’s jackets in my hands. “Look I...I know you need more allies but...Don't let your sister onto the table.”

“OH!” I gasped, then shut my mouth hastily, staring behind me at the Lucid that I’d left behind. “Oh. She’s picked Chosen is what I meant.” I informed him. The rumors had circulated the boxcar like wildfire. Not only was their a new goddess vying for a space on the table, but she’d also started selecting her champions.

I suppressed a shiver. 

Icy was speaking again. “It was kind of cool that Thee-I-Dare stopped in earlier-”

“He’s back.” I chimed in, cutting him off.

Icy paused on the walkway across from me. “Who?” he asked, caught off guard, “Who’s back?”

“Him.” I threw over my shoulder, slinking in the direction of the Barracks. The rest, lost to the bellows above, was spoken into the radio, to let Burrick into the loop as well. “Thee-I-Dare is here.”

“Oh.” Came Icy’s realization, followed quickly by a swear at a Lucid who’d gotten too close. “What, is he talking to you, now?” 

Surprise colored my tones as I responded, “Yeah. Which...I did not expect at all…” And it was true. It hadn’t been so very long ago that he’d spoken to me last. Usually he’d spend time visiting others, speaking of various matters. His absence for longer windows was...expected. Even if I didn’t always enjoy the silence at times. Somehow Redacre and missions felt a little safer with him around, and I’d always enjoyed his company.

Burrick and Icy’s voices crackled on the radio again, though I couldn’t quite catch the words for the distraction of those that suddenly slipped quietly across my mind, a distant ebb and echo, making itself a prominent place in my attention.

I AM BOUND TO EACH RITUAL IN TURN

“I know...but you’ve…” I began, slinking down the long hallway towards the Barracks, easing down into the shadows there, my restless feet already taking me in the start of a long loop. I struggled to find the appropriate words, and as a result, unfiltered thoughts poured forth instead. “Honestly you’ve talked to me a lot lately. I figured...You had...Is it bad if I thought you had better things to do?” I cut off a moment, wincing, before I made an attempt to correct myself. “That’s not a jab at you, it’s more I feel I don’t say interesting things, sometimes.”

Silence extended for several long moments, leaving me wonder if I’d just choked a Voice to death on the foot I’d just shoved into my mouth. “I just...um…” I tapered off, as he spoke.

SPARROW, YOU FEAR MY SISTER.

To my credit, I didn’t flinch, though I did freeze in my tracks in the shadows. I felt...caught, almost. I didn’t sense admonishment from him, but still, shame burned low fires in my belly. “Yeah…” I admitted around a sigh. “Yeah I do.”

DID YOU THINK I WOULD NOT CARE?

Now I did flinch. 

I think you have better things to do with your time than listen to me be afraid. The words nearly shot out of my mouth, and I bit them back, just in time. Secondary to that came surprise, followed by a dribble of guilt. Yes...in a way I’d expected him to simply...continue on regardless of what I had to say about Seed-The-Grudge. I’d burned that ritual expecting him to consider it...but ultimately I’d thought I was speaking into silence again. The daimons had demonstrated that they always seemed to keep their own plans at the heart of matters, more so than the wishes and fears of the humans that they were hosted within. I guess the mentality had stuck more than I thought it had.

“I…” I stumbled to begin, trying to recover. “Look...I...You...you need allies, right? Every daimon counts?” Especially now. Especially for him. A Voice without a voice. Weaker and fragmented. He needed all the help he could get, even if I was wary of where that help came from. It was for the best if I just...cast that fear aside, right? “I thought...maybe...you know greater good versus...needs of…” I stopped, realizing how much that sounded like something that They would say. The individual less worth the effort than the group’s safety and purposes. “Fuck, that’s Their thinking. God. I just.” Frustrated, I ran a hand through my hair, fleeing the Barracks, heading back into the roar of the Plexus in an attempt to drown my own raging thoughts.

“I want to help you and I’m more used to...putting my own fears aside to help other people, I guess…” More secrets of self. It cut, admitting it to Thee-I-Dare. More weaknesses for him to know and understand. He didn’t judge, but at some point I expected him to step back and realize that in this town, in this struggle, I might not have what it took, even if I fought for it. “But yeah…” I finished softly, sliding off into the tunnels below a Somniloquy. “She scares me. She...I told you why. With my parents.”

He was silent for a few moments. I let it draw itself out, waiting, keeping my attention focused around me as I watched a Sleeper patrol past before I hauled myself up out of the underbelly of the Somni.

SLEEPERS SHE WOULD AVOID KILLING.

Some relief flickered in my chest.“Right. And I know...I think that’s what happened to my mom.”  If this new daimon started on a warpath, my mother might be safe. But...That was only half of it. “My dad…” I could hear the unease starting to creep back into my voice. “They picked him for some kind of project? A work project? And he hasn’t been home in a long time. I’m starting to think that maybe...whatever he’s doing for them is willing…” I had harbored the hunch for a long time. A fear never given voice. It felt too much like willing it to truth that way. 

He’d been gone so long. I could see the tired looks mom threw out the window sometimes, her eyes sad. She missed him even if she never gave a voice to it. I’d joined the Club in part to find him. To find out what had happened to him. To figure out what had taken him so far from us. 

YOU BELIEVE HE KNOWS OF IT ALL?

A chill that had nothing to do with the Maze crept over me. I saw my dad’s face in my mind’s eye. I pictured him here. In the Maze, wearing Their garb. I shuddered, shouldering open the door that lead to Dream Therapy. The green light was softer than the harsh glare within the Somni, and I waited a moment for my eyes to adjust as I shifted to the strange, man-made tree-tops. “I...I don’t know.” I admitted softly, wringing my hands around my crossbow. My eyes cast out across the twisted wood, the shifting fog, and the deep abyss beyond the catwalks.

“It’s...my best guess? We haven’t talked to him.” Not for a long time. It was like he’d drop off the face of the earth for days at a time. Then mom would tell me he called. I’d never spoken to him since he’d left. After being in the Club as long as I had...I’d wondered if he’d truly talked to her at all. What he was doing and what he was up to. The creeping suspicions were there. A deep rooted fear without a foundation, but stabilized by plausible evidence. “He’s the one that got the job offer from CHORUS. The reason why we moved here?” Well. Part of the reason anyway. I cast that thought away before the sharp pang could follow it.

Dad was a structural engineer. Military background. He was in good physical condition. Smart as a whip. I remember him saying that the offer that they’d made him was good. Really good. I wondered what else had been at play, now. What other subtle influences had crept in through the open windows of his mind. I drew my jacket tighter around myself. I could see him down here in the Maze with alarming clarity, if I tried to entertain the thought. And that worried me. 

“So it...seems to fit. Not that I would ask Them about it...The last thing I need is for Them to use that against me if he is.” ...Too bad that the ship on that had already sailed. One Light sent in a fit of grief and anger. They don’t know his name. They don’t know who he is. The thoughts were there, attempting to soothe me, even as the anxiety dwelled in the back of my head like a creeping vine. I wrapped my arms across my body, holding tight, stilling me, and waited in the deep silence.

SPARROW. IF HE IS ONE OF THEM…

The words came at last. I froze in their wake, fearing his next words. Waiting for what I felt in my chest could be words that damned or saved him.

IF SHE DOES NOT KILL HIM. YOU  MAY

My heart just...stopped. My breathing froze. The low drip of water and rumble of the Maze faded away as I focused on those words burned in my head. The image I held in my head of my father fractured. Vanished. 

Gone forever.

Just like Jacob.

I cringed so violently away from that thought that I physically recoiled. My voice came out a low hiss, barely a death rattle as I tried to suck in air that my body had forgotten how to process. “I don’t want to do that.” It sounded loud even as I rasped it, cracking across what had been silence prior. “I can’t. I can’t lose another person!” The burn of tears came again, and I was helpless to stop them as I felt them track down my face. A hand came up trying to muffle myself.

This is dangerous. You’re too loud. You’ll blind yourself if you cry.

It was a thought that I only had the ability to heed for a few moments before another crashing wave of grief, both old and new, buffeted me again. “I can’t lose another part of my family!” I whispered. “That’s why I don’t want her around! That’s why I’m trying to save people!” I was desperate to make him understand. These fears. They weren’t unfounded. I’d lost too much already. Didn’t he realize? Had he not lost too? Did he not remember those Hosts we had found? Their ghosts that lingered in the Maze and haunted him when we asked? 

How could he say that?

My radio crackled. I heard my name, called in Icy’s voice, followed by a yell. I stirred from my own private reverie. One hand wiped at my face as another reached down to grab the radio and flick the volume back up so I could hear him.

“Yeah?” I asked, hearing how muffled and small my voice sounded. I cleared my throat once, twice, trying to fix it. But I couldn’t choke anything else past the knot that had affixed itself there.

“It’s really awkward without you sassing me, what’s going on?”

“Not good things!” I managed to get out. The false cheer in my voice was obvious. I couldn’t bring myself to fix it. To smile at the banter. I couldn’t bring myself to do much of anything. Move. Breathe. I was now a machine of limited perpetual motion. If I froze any longer, I’d lay down and cease to move all together. I couldn’t let that happen. I bolted from Dream Therapy, seeking out the nook within the walls of Host Conditioning. That would be my next destination. Something to focus on.

“Well that’s not good.” Came Burrick’s quiet voice.

Icy followed not long after. “Ah. Sounds delightful, what’s going on?”

Right. I hadn’t explained much of anything. More vagueness. More hiding and secrets.

My voice was absurdly small against the empty air of The Throat, the giant body of the Maze echoing slightly as I finally managed to find my voice again. “I may have to kill my dad. If Seed-The-Grudge doesn’t get to him first…”

There was silence on the other side of the coms. Icy was the first to recover. “Ooh...that’s...that’s bizarre.” I could hear the puzzlement and shock that had crept into his voice, despite his best attempts to hide it. “...It is Thee-I-Dare you’re talking to, right?”

I hadn’t thought about that. Hadn’t bothered to verify or check. But I...I was certain it was. He’d come to me asking directly about a prayer I’d sent to him. I...I never said his name in it, I realized. More recoiling, more fear. Too much. Too much. I would trip myself right into a panic if I wasn’t careful.

I sniffed, lifting the radio again. “I think he means more like...collateral damage?” Did he? Or did he mean it seriously when he said I had to kill my father? Was it supposed to be an honor? Or an accident? I didn’t...couldn’t...understand. Not in that moment. My thoughts were too much of a blur. I chose to focus on something else. Before I got myself killed down here.

His words slipped forth again, doing little to soothe the ache in my chest at their crack and burn across my mind.

THE LUCIDS ARE BEYOND REDEMPTION.

I flinched back into the alcove. Beyond redemption. The thought repeated itself at full blast. Like an echo chamber across my mind. More tears slipped silently down my face, even as I bit down on my tongue, refusing to break more at the words, even as I could feel myself buckling.

No. God. Please no.

Icy broke through the din again, his voice shattering my panic. “Right uh...You need to start from the beginning.” 

Did I? Had I not been clear enough? I didn’t...I didn’t want to go through all of that. Not again. I…

“Sparrow, what’s going on?” He pressed.

I needed this to stop. I couldn’t do this from two sides. Not now. “Can I...can I take a moment later and tell you?” I managed weakly, begging in my head that he would leave it at that. That he would stop pressing.

“Sure.” He finally said. I sagged against the cold wall. “We’ll have a meeting back at the train car.”

“Sounds fine.” I whispered, relief leaking through me in a sluggish trickle.

“Tell Thee-I-Dare that ...that's not a very nice thing to say.” He came back through the radio one more time, ending his words on a nervous laugh before he called out to Burrick, rallying them both.

I remained there in the dark, pressed against the stone. I was sure in that moment that it was all that was holding me up, even as I stared blankly into the shadows and light of the room. My senses were strained. Waiting for him to say something else. Nothing came. So instead, I met the silence with my own torrent.

“I don’t...I know that...they serve Them but that’s my dad, Thee-I-Dare! I can’t just write that off! It’s not that simple!” Again, trying to impress the point upon him. I don’t know if he even...understood. Their idea of family was so different. So full of hate and anger. Rivalries and fighting. Did they know what it was to love someone so dearly that it felt like your heart was torn from your chest when they went somewhere you couldn’t follow? Could they even understand what it was like to lose a part of yourself irreparably? If any could..I’d thought he’d be the closest but…

SPARROW...IT IS NOT ME.

I COULD LIE. I CHOOSE NOT TO.

Some distant, cold part of me respected that. Respected that he would tell me the truth in this moment. Comfort while well and good did nothing in the long run. Did nothing to fix things when truth was necessary. 

Another part of me was so so frightened. 

My voice came out in a hoarse whisper, cluttered by the sniffles that tried to keep my nose from running haphazardly down my face. “I know. I just…This hurts. This hurts. And I...I know but...God.” I hadn’t meant to get emotional. A mission was no place for that, and made things riskier. I tried to pull myself back together. Tried to rally.

You can fall to pieces later. Not now. Not here.

“Either way.” I tried. “I get it. I don’t like it but I get it.”

No you don’t. You don’t understand at all. 

THEN YOU LEAVE REDACRE. FLY.

My head shot up, startled. That wasn’t what I had expected from him. What? My mouth hung open, working for a moment around words I couldn’t find or format. Finally I managed something as rationality kicked back into gear in the face of shock. “How am I supposed to do that? They’ve got us blocked in from all sides. I’m stuck here until something gives.” He’d asked the impossible of me.

WE CRIPPLE THEM, AND YOU RUN.

I stood there frozen, eyes wide. Realizations trickled in. How much risk that would be. How much he was offering. My mind tried and failed to process it, to accept it. More words tumbled forth from me. “...then what about the Club? What about you?” What would happen?

YES. BUT WE SPEAK OF YOUR ENDGAME

I felt dizzy. I couldn’t think straight again. I bolted for the other room. Seeking the tunnels that led to the bunker, led back to clear night air. It took until the hatch into the backyard had been shouldered open before I could find my tongue. Before I could think past humming static and noise in my head.

I couldn’t help but ask more of him. It was out of my mouth before I could stop it. “I don’t know if...if in that endgame. Does my family get to come?” His offer...it sounded too good to be true. But...could...could we all make it out of here? Could we run? Could we get away from this place? 

Could you even convince someone willingly participating in this to do that?

I flinched. 

“Is that even a possibility or with all this going on...is it just going to be me?” I threw myself over a fence, hiding in the tall grass on the other side. Before me the empty, yawning air beyond the Leap expanded outwards, the sight of the town visible below an endless expanse of stars.

THE ODDS DO NOT FAVOR GROUPS.

Alone then.

I sat there staring off the Leap.

For a moment, I could see it all. A thread unspooling before me. A future away from Redacre. I could break free of here. I could run. Survive, like he always told us to. I would never have to worry about Them. I would be beyond their reach. I could go find my grandma. I could be free. I wouldn’t have to be afraid again.

It was tempting. 

More than it should have been.

But...Alone. No Mom. No Dad. Left alone to their fate here. Muse. Kyle. Still left fighting for what they believed in. What I believed in. 

It would shatter every promise I’d made for the sake of saving myself.

“...then that’s the coward’s way out.” My tone was hard, even as the words that slipped from me were quiet on the night air. “And I won’t do that.” I couldn’t. Wouldn’t. “I won’t leave everybody. I won’t leave my dad. I won’t leave my mom. I can’t leave Muse or Kyle to face this.” I took a deep, fortifying breath. Something solidified in my gut. Something that felt less like a stone and more like…

Resolve.

“I’m scared of a lot of things but...I’m not a coward.”

SOUNDS LIKE A CHOICE. I RESPECT IT.

I had no sense for his tone. Had no idea if he found my decision to be a good one or utterly foolish. He didn’t judge. Not to our faces, anyway. I’m sure he had his own thoughts on each of us.

I shut my eyes, rubbing jacket sleeves across the sticky trails that remained on my face, slowly drying in the night air. “We’ll see what happens with it.” It was low, nearly lost to the soft hum of crickets that had begun chorusing in my stillness.

A pause. Then:

OUR RITUAL TIME ENDS, MY SPARROW.

My eyes opened again. My Sparrow. Maybe it had been the right choice then. Maybe I wasn’t a fool for all I’d done. There was a wry twist in my chest at the thought that I cared so much for the endearment. That it acted like a marker for how he saw me.

You’re a fool, Sparrow.

I turned away from that thought, before it could start down a path of doubts. Before I could remember accusing texts and notes scrawled in a boxcar.

“I know.” There was a pause. “Thank you...for telling me.” I expelled a long, slow breath. “I’ll have to think about things.” When I could think again. When all of this stopped being a confusing circuit in my head.

I WILL BACK YOU, EITHER WAY.

“It’s appreciated.” I whispered. Even now, even in my tumult, it was good to know that when things were at their worst, there was something, someone, there to back me up. 

SURVIVE.

And then he was gone to the night.

I stayed there curled in the grass. Quiet. Thinking. 

He’d offered me an out. 

It still rang in my head. Then you leave Redacre.

What would have happened if I’d said yes? What would it have cost him to let me even try? His Hosts, his chosen were so few. The resources at his disposal limited. And yet he’d still offered.

In that moment, he’d seen me not as a resource. Not as a Club member, not as something to help him win this war, but just Sparrow. A scared kid who was neck deep in things she didn’t understand.

But...he’d also told me that my father had to die if my suspicions proved correct.

It sat like a weight on my chest. 

Now what will you do?

I allowed myself another few seconds to sit. To think.

Whatever it takes. Whatever it takes to fix this.

I stood and picked up my radio. “Alright. We’re good to go, guys.”

[radiodreadzone]

Doubt

WC: 1,150

TW: None

Sprawled out on the sleeping bag of the boxcar, I studied the notebook in my hand, illuminated by the dim light of the candles. Stretched across the page in hastily scrawled ink were notes about the various texts from the Unknown Caller I'd managed to gather up from word around the boxcar. They'd talked to quite a few people. With things rumbling in Hoadly at the moment, it wasn't hard to believe that a new player to the game was the hot commodity on everyone's lips. Even my own words and texts had been sought after by curious eyes and minds, looking for an understanding. Looking for some kind of connection.

Even I was falling into that hole myself. It was hard not to. Just like when She had visited. Something had once again grabbed me by the wrist and thrust me into something I'd thought I had no part in. Even if it was just a small role, this time. It had still been...something.

I closed my eyes and rested the notebook on my chest, expelling a long sigh.

This is a job for more critical thinkers. The thought was a dour one. But looking back on my encounter with Thee-I-Dare, it made sense to me. I felt like he'd been trying to help me think through things. Things that in hindsight, were really obvious to my eyes. How did one miss such simple details unless they simply weren't suited to detective work?

The mystery of Colm wasn't really what had my attention right now. Well, not really. I was still just as invested in figuring out what was going on there as the next kid. Even if I didn't trust the Nameless god as far as I could throw her, I wanted to help Thee-I-Dare recover...and maybe this was the way to do it. But...

The words. 

The words of this unknown individual kept ringing in my head. Pealing like a bell. Some of the things they said unsettled me deep in my gut. Something that instinct chimed I should listen to, even as the rest of me squinted in suspicion.

'Don't believe any of them. They've done all this before.'

'Oh. Kid. Tell that to the last town they did this to.'

I studied the scrawlings on my notebook, lips in a tight line and brows furrowed. I rolled over onto my stomach and stared at them. A history. An unspoken history. The daimons had never elaborated on it. A few kids spoke of hints and signs that they were there beyond Redacre. But something about this place was special. Something drew them here. To this fake town. This 'toy town' as Thee-I-Dare had called it. The notebook fell flat against the fabric of the sleeping bag again. This place was an experiment. Had...had there been more before this? That was a question for Them. I had no interest in talking to them, and I was pretty sure the feeling was mutual. Any modicum of power afforded to Them wouldn't be granted by me or my rituals.

...Well except that one time. But I didn't like to think about that.

My eyes returned to the page.

'Do they call you Chosen? Make you feel special?'

Too close. Too close to the mark there. I could already feel my hackles going up. It...I...

'They will claim to be your friend. That is their way in.'

I stared hard at my own handwriting. Then with a angry growl I flung the booklet across the boxcar, the fluttering of pages and solid thump as it hit the floor my only indicator for where it had gone as I shut my eyes, hands going up to cover my face.

Was I stupid? Did I make the wrong choice?

I knew there were some kids out there who regarded the daimons with nothing but suspicion. How quaint, how interesting, that they had come to us in our most dire time to help us. But in return all they asked was that we play Host. They'd terrified me. I'd stayed away from them. Until the one...

My eyes opened a sliver. He hadn't asked me to do that though. He hadn't asked to be my friend. I'd made those decisions myself. Did that mean I'd walked willingly into a baited trap? I rolled my head, turning to see across the rough planks of the boxcar to the notebook, a vague shadow amidst the flickering candles.

'Wrong answer, kid. I'm sorry. You're already burnt.'

My frown deepened. What had I told them? '...The broken one. THEE-I-DARE. I'd...call him a friend.'

"Shit." the word was hissed into the quiet shadows of the boxcar, muffled by the hands I slapped across my face. 'I'd call him a friend.' Hahah. Great. You fucked up, alright, kid.

The hands slipped from my face again and I rolled onto my side, curling up, wrapping dad's jacket tighter around me. I was...unsettled. I didn't like the type of things that this stranger had taken to saying. Things that if I let them could take establish themselves and coil up, draw their roots deeply into the foundations of my already shaking trust. I'd already cast hints of my doubts at Thee-I-Dare before. He had told me he wouldn't judge me for them. But...

"Oh ye of little faith."

Granny Mary's wizened, knowing voice crept into the corners of my mind. Across my mind, the image of the old woman flickered, a slight smile on her face. A devout Catholic, her dedication to Sunday morning Mass, the Bible, and the Lord Jesus had been unwavering. She'd tried to instill that love back into her son and her daughter in law, both people of science. I'd been enthralled by the stories of the Saints even as she'd peppered in stories of the Old World. The sidhe and the fae folk. Her family had remained devout Christians to avoid Their reaching grasp. But the knowledge of the things they'd done to avoid them had remained with her. Had been passed on to me.

"Don't let it learn your name, my darling." She'd whispered in a hushed tone. "Don't let them take you with sweet promises."

If Granny Mary knew what I'd done here, she'd probably have had a heart attack on the spot. And if she didn't, she'd fly down from New York and come to throttle me personally. The thought brought a tired smile to my face. Daimon...sidhe. She'd find them close enough. Even if I had agreed to the terms myself. Walking willingly to the noose was still death, no matter if you decided it was alright or if someone else had dragged you kicking and screaming.

But...what if they're wrong?

My eyes opened back up a fraction, letting in the low light.

Would you take the words of a perfect stranger for truth? They'd cast long shadows of doubt. But they had given us no evidence to back it.

'Vetting us.' One kid had commented, their mouth twisted in an angry frown. 'Trying to find out who they can trust with the information.'

But that didn't mean they were right. Didn't mean that everything that they'd said before was true. There was no proof. I ignored the soft, tiny words of 'yet' that breathed in the back of my mind. But still...that didn't do anything to help my doubt. Didn't do anything to still the quavering waters of my shaken faith in my...friend. Eyes cast from the worn wood grain up to the mirror. I could feel the heavy weight of a Light in my pocket even now. I had them on hand frequently these days, but my well of questions had long ago dried up. The torrent dying down in the face of more careful, slowed thoughts, and the distraction of simply surviving night to night now that I had finally found something that bore resemblance to footing.

"When you have your doubts, child, cast them to the feet of god." Granny Mary's voice rang in my ears again.

But what would she have said in this case? With Thee-I-Dare? Not quite a god. Not quite a voice in my head either. But someone, something, I called a friend. Said I trusted. This unknown caller...they'd come and stirred up things. Pushed my already teetering faith back to the edge again. How easily shaken I was. I knew I'd never been devout. Never been one for fanatical following. Ever the cautious and flighty one. This town kept me poised to run when I was already startling hard at my own shadow. It was a wonder I'd made it this far. But still...I'd been accepted. Not just by the club. But Thee-I-Dare had been honored that I'd chosen him. Maybe that meant something. Maybe...

'Do they make you feel special?'

A sharp exhalation. I shut down the thought. Slammed it behind a steel wall, even as I burrowed into the sleeping bag, throwing the fabric up over my head to block out the light. I'd need to ask him. Eventually. But...I'd shut down this deluge of damning thoughts tonight. It was too much for now. Too much baseless conjecture, not enough solid evidence. ...All of it was, in it's own way. I shut my eyes, curling tighter in on myself.

God this sucks.

[radiodreadzone]

The Witness

WC: 2,930

TW: None

Useless.

How could I have just...

The information was right there and I-

My cell phone was banished to my pocket, out of sight. I refused to acknowledge it, even as I felt the tell-tale buzz of the message from the Club.

But what if it's-

No.

I squashed down the thought mercilessly. That ship sailed. Went right by me in the metaphorical bay. I should have blocked the number for good measure but...for all my frustration, all of my anger, it was directed at myself. Not them.

I'd had questions for Thee-I-Dare, things I'd been content to let sit and maybe find answers for, but...Sometimes more pressing information comes to light. Sometimes you get a weird text from some rando in the middle of the night who knows exactly what you're after.

And sometimes you fuck it up.

In the aftermath, I’d sent the Light to him. My information was terribly limited but still...if they were our witness, if they had something, then I wanted to give him the heads up. I’d left it burning at the ritual table, convincing myself that it was better to just go out and lick my wounds. Let myself diffuse the frustration in a more beneficial way...Beneficial to the Club, at least. An alternative focus. A distraction.

I'd been working my way through the mission, still lost in the frustration of the moment passed. Disabling speed traps, collecting gear, sniffing out bonus evidence...all of this was done on a type of autopilot as my mind played out over and over again how it could have gone.

Wrong answer, kid. I'm sorry. You're already burnt.

Teeth grit, I pulled myself onto 1005's rooftop, angling for the rockets, watching with detachment the dazzle of the fireworks and their answering response from another Club member. I was gathering up the parachuted supplies when I sensed him. The words came, brontide and unobtrusive as ever.

I KNOW ENOUGH LIARS, SPARROW...

My hand came to a halt, hovering over the bandage it’d been seeking as my eyes slid shut and my jaw clenched. I straightened, passing a hand over my face for a moment as I tried to regain my composure. I could feel my eyes burning. Stinging at the memory of my...misstep. I refused to let him see me cry. Hadn't I already sunk far enough, tonight?

"Hi, Thee-I-Dare." I was horrified by the quality my voice had taken on, my throat clogged with the promise of what could be tears if I let it progress any further. A deep breath, a quiet clearing of my throat, and it passed. "I...I could have helped." I admitted bitterly. "I'm kind of kicking myself about it." From my perch on the eaves, I spectated the very interesting view of the grass below, unable to raise my eyes, unable to stop the tension that knotted my hands into fists and set my jaw.

DO NOT BE SORRY FOR THE TRUTH.

I sagged as the tension and fight left me in one deflating breath. I let myself slip off the roof. My eyes were finally able to leave the ground, moving instead, by necessary rote, to take in my surroundings as I moved on. "I guess not." The words were a hushed sigh.

WHAT HAPPENED? I HEARD THE RITUAL

I'd been...terribly vague. Not on purpose. It stung, what happened, and I hadn't been keen on dwelling on that particular...failing. But being vague wouldn't help Thee-I-Dare. Not now.

I pulled out my phone, scrolling through apps until I came back to my messages. I'd been so sorely tempted to just delete the entire conversation, but...Now I was at least somewhat glad that I hadn't in my fit of pique. It all fit neatly on the screen. Three messages apiece, balanced on both sides of the screen.

"I got a text on my phone from the unknown caller while I was running a mission. By myself. Don't know if that makes any difference..." I'd been in the Well, heading into the barracks when my phone had gone off. They'd scared the shit out of me.

Too bad that isn’t hard to do.

"They..." I couldn't swallow back a resigned sigh, scowling as I looked back over the handful of texts. "They knew...Colm was a sleepwalker." I squinted at the words and corrected myself, "a sleep talker? They had an archive of the recording that he made." I paused re-reading that. "Because apparently he made one...?" A pause as I processed that. "And they asked if they could trust me. Asked who I followed." I paused as the daimon stirred forth again.

DID HE...

I blinked, then realized he meant the recording. Right. "I guess so. So whoever they were, they've got information. But I don't know how to get a hold of them or get a hold of what they had." My brows furrowed as I powered off the phone and pushed it back into my pocket, burying it under a bandage and zipping it closed. I turned my attention back up the road to Old Growth. I was mostly wandering now, I tended to take to pacing when a daimon spoke to me. It felt easier to think that way, even if it was just a nervous habit. But as I approached the daycare, I could see posters jutting out of trashcans. My wandering was worthwhile tonight, at least.

"I don't think they like...you guys. Or maybe they just don't like...you?" A grimace. "Because when they asked if I followed anybody and I mentioned you, they called me 'burnt' and cut off communication." That part still puzzled me. What the hell had they meant by 'burnt'? Was it a play on Thee-I-Dare? He'd told me stories of stolen fire, his symbol on the table looked like the flame of a struck match-head.

Or maybe it was little more sinister. Icarus too close to the sun. I'd taken up my lot flying too close to the 'gods'. "So." I continued, the bitterness in my words had their bite leeched back by resignation, "I don't know if that means anything in particular or if they were just being unusually cruel with their words."

THEY HATE ME? THEY CAN GET IN LINE.

It was practically a scoff from him. I couldn't help the soft bark of laughter. "You do seem to have a knack for making enemies...don't you? All that contrariness catches up, I guess."

But his enemies were mine too, now. I wondered if I should worry about that. Nervousness flickered and sparked, deep in my chest. I pushed it away. Tamped it down. Those were for another time.

YOU WERE ALONE. THAT IS OF NOTE.

I had been. But not for long. Halfway through the texts showing up, I'd been told Kyle was coming. And Cass not long after. A part of me briefly wondered if that had been what scared them away.

Maybe. Maybe not. Our words had continued, even after their arrival. I had no one else to blame for this.

"Yeah." I began, realizing I'd been silent a beat. "I dunno they've...they've sent messages, from what I've heard, to others..? But I don't know if they were alone or not." Hard to tell with the rumor mill surrounding all these people getting texts from a blocked number. Offhandedly I also added, "They don't like the Stalkers either. I've heard some of the kids laughing about how they taunted them. They're spying actively, whoever they are." I chewed at a nail a moment, having managed to shove the last of the posters into my pack to begin putting up.

THEY MAY FEAR TO TRUST YOU, YET...

I couldn't help the slight scoff, even as my shoulders shrugged in my too-big jacket. "I mean...I can't blame them..." I muttered. "One...two text messages asking 'Hey can I trust you?' That's not...that's not how you build a rapport." It was trailed off with a sigh.

IF THEY OFFERED SUCH BAIT, I THINK...

THEY NEED FRIENDS, OR SHELTER...

I felt myself bristle a little mentally at the words 'bait'. Had I avoided a trap then? My honesty spared me from something dangerous? "And...I guess they didn't think I was a good option for that." Were they that desperate for those things? "But...I mean..." I turned a thought over, "They've got a whole club at their heels. But they're not afraid of us." No, they were actively reaching out to us instead. So who was threatening them by us drawing attention to them. "More enemies of yours maybe on their tail? I dunno..." I mumble, patting a poster into place against some house siding, Sargent Snuggles' sweatered visage looking apathetically down at me.

MAYBE. BUT YOU CAN USE THIS...

Encouragement. Help thinking it through. A wan smile spread on my face at it all. I knew what he was doing, even as my tired brain tried to process through all the new information.

THEY WILL TRY AGAIN WITH SOMEONE.

That much was clear. They'd been working their way through kids in the Club. No one more than once though, it seemed. "Right. We're not...sure...if there is a right answer to their questions but..." Another pause as I finished putting up the posters in the neighborhood, angling back up to the last few spots marked for Old Growth, eyes still peeled for Lucids, which had been rife about this evening. I was out of Tranq Darts, and I didn't need the additional aggravation. "They've talked to quite a few of us so far. I think they're still looking for someone to trust.

YOU KNOW WHAT NOT TO SAY. IT HELPS

Hundreds of wrong ways. Only one right. Just like Edison. Unfortunately, I wasn't sure if we had the luxury of time like he had. This wasn't a patent so much as it was a race to fix a broken Voice...one I didn't trust as far as I could throw her. And to figure out...everything. 

A slow tired blink. 

What was I even doing at this point...besides just helping Thee-I-Dare? Was that enough? I rubbed tiredly at my eyes, minding the poster glue that spattered one of my palms.

More thoughts for later. There was so much. So much to understand.

"Right. They...don't seem to like any of you guys." Time for more thinking out loud. My brain could process things, but in my state, as the thoughts went into my grey matter, they were absorbed and dispersed into nothingness if I refused to say them out loud. Gone forever. We'd both have to cope with this method, for the moment. I hoped I didn't say anything too stupid. "But...if they're our Witness...wouldn't they be tied to at least one of you? Or are we just dealing with a loose cannon?" Even as the thought came off my lips, I grimaced at the idea.

Not so far-fetched, honestly. We weren't the only untied ends in Redacre, it was looking like. As we pulled at the strings, more and more pieces came unraveled with us. There the whole time, or slowly woven in and well hidden.

WELL. AMONG MY SIBLINGS...

THEY SAID THE WITNESS WAS THERE.

"Right." A gestured phrase for him to continue as I moved quietly behind the fences, heavy-lidded eyes peeled, a Flashbang gripped tight in hand. Just in case. It was excessive it turned out, as I put the last poster up and slunk towards the campgrounds. My careful creeping brought no one's attention to bear on me. Wary skulking turned back into careful upright steps as I let myself relax back into my stride.

THAT NIGHT. THIS PERSON...LATER?

"There's so many...misaligned pieces here." I sighed, feeling the exhaustion tugging at me. Too many late nights. I was having trouble concentrating again. "I dunno, Thee-I-Dare, something here reeks and I don't know what it is. And that's throwing me off."

RITUALS SAID A CAR, EARLY MORNING.

His attempt at a helpful addition, I supposed. But it was also information I already knew. "Afterward. That's after..." I looked for the right word choice, "The event took place...though right? Unless..."

My brain turned over thoughts. Ideas. Possibilities. I felt something clicking into place. Colm had recorded his sleepwalking. It wouldn't matter if someone had been present at all.

YES. THAT IS WHAT I AM TOLD.

His words rumbled quietly across my mind, but I acknowledged them only distantly, too focused on my sudden mental path. 

Not a cop meddling. Not the Voice. Something had doctored the scene. And something had stolen that tape. Someone.

"..if..They took his recording." The words came out of my mouth haltingly, as I stared off the Leap, wide-eyed, realizations crashing down with a bevy of new pieces for the puzzle hailing with it.

Almost in tandem, a similar thought came from Thee-I-Dare.

FROM WHAT YOU IMPLIED, A THIEF.

"Right." The word was a breathy acknowledgement, the idea more or less confirmed in that moment by the daimon's own suspicions. "Fuck." the word shot out of my mouth with venom. Confusion ran in the wake of this discovery. "Oh no...Oh no. That's. New." I ran a slightly sticky hand through my short hair, ruffling the strands. "And a thief on the run...What the-" I paced down the gang-planks towards Dream Therapy, distracted thoroughly, and only barely remembering to monitor my volume. "Why would they-What were they even doing with that? What?! What purpose would they have for stealing Colm's recording?"

Why indeed? I could only hope Thee-I-Dare wouldn't mind my stream of consciousness. Exhaustion would do that to me. Ranting was...not something I'd done in his presence before.

THEY MUST FEEL VERY ALONE, NOW.

"Yeah," I said, realizing my tone sounded very 'well duh', causing me to sober a bit, thinking more. "Yeah, probably. Especially if they're reaching out to a bunch of kids."

AS TO THE REST, I KNOW NOT.

I bit back a sigh. He was in the same sinking ship as I was. Plugging the same holes without an idea as to the source. Asking him the questions wouldn't help. He didn't have any answers, and neither did I for the time being. "I know. At this point...speculating." I shrugged, squinting into the watery green light of Dream Therapy. I was hoping to find just a few more pieces of evidence ensconced in the Maze before I called it a night. "Probably a lot of waiting until they try to reach out to somebody else again. They seem good at spreading a bit of discord themselves but...not finding what they need."

SPECULATION. THE REDACRE DISEASE.

I couldn't tell if he was teasing in that moment or not, but I laughed quietly anyway, unable to help the sarcasm that colored my tones. "Isn't it just, though?" I paused just long enough to sweep my arms wide from the balcony of the high platform, "But...I mean look at this place." I gestured to the strange fog rolling on the floor, the twisted trees, the lurid red of the Door in the distance. "There's barely any answers here. Just a lot of mysteries."

There was a brief pause that lasted only a few heartbeats.

OUR RITUAL TIME ENDS, SPARROW...

I'd known it would. His time was shorter these days. Pressed by the weight of...whatever had done this to him. As the flame dwindled, so too would his presence. Even now if I paid attention I was sure I would feel him fading. "I understand." my arms dropped back to my sides, my hands burying in my pockets.

PLEASE BE CAUTIOUS DOWN HERE.

I couldn't help the soft smile that quirked at my mouth, then. Ever endearing, Thee-I-Dare. Even if he couldn't be there to watch over us all the time. "I will. I'll only pick up a few more things and I'll go." The honest truth. I was a shit liar, after all. "I still appreciate you stopping by. Helping me suss a few more things out." I paused, resisting the urge to scuff my shoes on the planks underfoot, the high-tops less yellow now, and more dirty and grass stained than they'd been when all this began. "Sorry I couldn't have been more help, though."

I THINK YOU WERE, MY SPARROW.

I couldn't tell if the warmth that suffused the wake of the statement came from him or if it was simply my own reaction. It was a comfort, regardless. And the endearments never ceased to help something tensed somewhere in my shoulders loosen just a bit. Ridiculous. I was utterly ridiculous. I smiled anyway, shaking my head. "There you go, being nice again."

SURVIVE.

That presence shifted away. "Goodnight, Thee-I-Dare." I murmured quietly.

Long uncounted moments passed, the silence extending as I simply...took stock of everything. The frustration was gone in the face of speaking to him. Helped by the ability to think through what I'd learned, no matter how small the crumb. Just...having someone there to talk. It'd helped. I didn't feel so ruffled.

He was good at what he did, I'd give him that...a balm to wounded pride and dismay. I was grateful always for that help. Always glad when he came to help me feel better when I seemed dead set on feeling sorry for myself. I hummed thoughtfully, wincing at the realization that I hadn’t told him as much. Always looking out for us. I needed to do more to repay in kind.

I finally turned and shifted deeper into the Maze to continue my search. Caution coded my steps softer.

There was more to do, yet, but I had promised him to take care.

[radiodreadzone]

Like Unto the Earth

WC: 2,689

TW: Panic Attacks.

It was late. Kyle and I had been running missions, but even he had already called it a night. The restless energy that had me on edge all night had continued to persist. I was jumpy. Unable to settle. I texted Dax and Gwen for another mission, ignoring the tiny numbers of the clock at the top corner of my phone that glowed like an accusation as I shouldered my crossbow and slipped back out into the darkness. If nothing else, I hoped to work this out. To burn myself low, and at least...maybe find some rest through sheer exhaustion alone.

By the time I'd made it to Hoadly, emerging carefully from the sewer grate in the cliff, I'd gotten my first objective text. A Lucid carrying information. I shifted my crossbow with a slight smile. Easy. But that also meant going down into the Maze. I'd need to raid stockpiles.

Slowly, methodically, I made my way around the neighborhood, pausing at the base of the cliff that led upwards to the daycare above. The gentle sound of pages fluttering in the wind had drawn me, and I picked up the loose piece of the CHORUS manual and shoved it in one of my pocket. Another was in a backyard, resting beneath the sparking form of Dax's drone on the eaves above. I smiled as I hauled myself up, snapping a pic of the broken piece of tech to send to Dax.

'Found your Drone.

Again.'

It was quick work to fix, even as my eyes traced upwards towards the cliff. I'd deal with the handbook and the last few pages before I went down there...The rest were a bit beyond my reach. I'd need to go around. Creeping slowly through front yards, mindful of shadows and the Lucids that seemed to saturate the neighborhood this time of night, I slipped towards the road.

Something knew I was there.

I stiffened,turning sharply on my heel to stare down the road. A Sleeper's head had swung towards me, arms reaching, seeking. I allowed myself a breath. "Just you." It was barely a waver of words. I turned to head back up the road.

Their presence is often hard to describe when you notice it. Sometimes when a daimon speaks to me, I can catch it before it happens. There's...signs. Warnings. With...Them...it always felt like too many eyes turning onto me. Scrutiny. Judgement. It sets off the hair on the back of my neck, and sparks a cold sweat.

Thee-I-Dare is...harder to describe. His presence has always felt unobtrusive. Like someone waiting patiently, politely, at a door while you're focused on something else. Never quite sure how long they've been standing there. But...not quite that either. It's more than that. Like a peal of thunder. An echo of something powerful...something that makes you jump if you don't expect it's arrival.

YOU ASK WHAT YOU ARE TO ME...

I startle badly, nearly fumbling my crossbow. A hand slaps to my mouth to muffle the yelp that threatens at the sudden whisper of words that brushes through my subconscious. The lurch of my heart and mind stumbles, as I try to remember who I'd burned my last ritual to.

To...to Them. But this wasn't them. This was him. I'd asked him not long ago about us. My kind. He'd answered swifter than I'd anticipated. It had been a prayer born of doubts, and I felt now that guilt eating at me. Fizzing low in my gut.

"Sorry...you gave me a fright. Uhm. Yeah." I stumbled out the words, quiet and soft in the street, managing to pick my feet up and keep moving. "Just...was wondering."

The silence lengthened, and I waited it out. I wasn't sure who the discomfort in that moment belonged to.

TRY NOT TO TAKE ME WRONG, IN THIS...

It was a hesitant start as any. And I felt for him. Mine had been a very loaded question from the start. Unable to help myself, I opened my mouth to reassure. "I..figured it's not going to be a...pretty answer. So...duly noted." The guilt had formed a symphony with unease in my chest. It was a rough start now for both of us, a leveled playing field. I was afraid of where this path would go.

In the silence that followed, I gathered the last few pages and the book, pulling myself quietly onto the roof of Old Growth.

TO ME YOU ARE LIKE UNTO THE EARTH

He was ever a fan of metaphor. He augmented his phrasing in ways that were easily understood. But sometimes the point flew right over my head. Brows furrowed, I squinted up at the depths of the night sky, mouthing the phrase over and over silently. "...unto the earth?" I finally mumbled, the words spilling out audibly.

A SOURCE OF GREAT POTENTIAL

The understanding clicked, finally. I was grateful for a bit more elucidation, even as dismay settled on my shoulders like a heavy blanket. "Oh...I see. An untapped resource."

WE STROVE UNJUSTLY TO MASTER IT.

My jaw clenched a touch, the fizzling in my chest hissing out, replaced by a heavy weight of resignation that leeched into my tones. "...got it. Yeah. A resource." 'Try not to take me wrong, in this...' My eyes slid away from the sky as I slipped off the roof and down towards the campground. Silence pervaded between us again.

After a moment I cleared my throat and attempted to speak, only to be given pause as the presence coiled in the back of my mind stirred and spoke again.

WE...I, MAY HAVE AWAKENED YOU

A nod, though I have no idea if he even saw it. I barely understood how these things worked. I had meant to ask him about that...but another time maybe. Later, maybe.

"Right. You were the one who Woke us all up in the beginning. Will, and then Word." A frown now as I turned over things. "But..unjust to your eyes...? Not necessarily everyone else's at the time..?"

BUT WHAT IF YOU WOULD HAVE RISEN?

WITHOUT ME. I WILL NEVER KNOW.

Thee-I-Dare proved himself again with a habit of keeping me confused as he spoke. I often felt every one of my very young fourteen years in the face of his...centuries? Millennia? He was ancient. An understanding and consciousness far beyond mine, even when some days he felt human. I often sat back after talks and marveled at the fact that I'd managed to keep up with him at all. But in this moment it was just...me at a loss once more.

I bit off the tail end of a sigh, "When you say risen, this feels like new terminology." An important word. Things that seemed so innocuous in our mouths could have a whole new meaning in the eyes of daimons. "Cuz we're Awake, and that feels like a very y'know...proper noun. Risen feels like something similar, but if so it's not one I'm familiar with."

I USE THAT WORD OFTEN, FOR SPEED...

Speed like...swiftness? Or speed to help communicate with less? I decided perhaps the latter. "Ok, gotcha. Metaphorical. Easier to try and get a point across." Even I could hear the lack of certainty in my voice however. It didn't help my concentration that I was now neck deep in the Maze, seeking the Lucid that bore the evidence I'd need to gather before I could leave.

BUT IN TRUTH, WAKE TO SLUMBER?

IT IS A LONG SLOPE, ALWAYS HAS BEEN

I held back a laugh. He always seemed to pick the hardest fights. The longest and steepest slopes. The most opposition. It was his nature but, I couldn't resist a tease. "Back to that tenacity of yours again...huh?" It didn't quite reach it's mark today. I don't think either of our hearts were entirely in it...or whatever the daimon equivalent would have been.

WHAT IF I JUST WOKE YOU EARLY?

Early...? In what sense? Historically? "I feel like..I'm missing a lot of pieces of context..." The late hour didn't help my ability to think straight either in that moment. I spotted the Lucid I needed in Host Conditioning, managing a neat dispatch of them, and moved to collect. "I'm afraid you're more familiar with your history than I am. So i'm not quite sure what...early might mean." My eyes once again sought a form that wasn't there, as if looking to meet the eyes of the daimon in my head. I started to understand why some people just kept their eyes shut when speaking to them but...I had more to do yet.

NO. IN THIS, I SPECULATE.

Ah. That explained it all. I'd chased the tail end of a thought. Speculation and nothing more.

I THINK YOU DO NOT NEED US.

That again. He'd mentioned it to me and countless others. It was important to him, even if I wasn't sure how I felt about it myself. "Yes, you've mentioned that a few times." Again I felt a need to try to justify his existence. To try and give him a reason to stay, even if I knew that the words of one small child...might not mean much at all. "You're a catalyst." He finished his thought, having waited patiently for me to blurt mine.

AS THE EARTH MAY NOT NEED YOU.

I stilled, thoughts switching back. Oh.

"Right. Well..in that way. If we're going into this." I could feel that uncertainty winding tight in my chest again, even as I felt yet another loaded question slide home into the barrel. "There's thoughts that...humans with the Earth, we might destroy it because of how we utilize it. Is there that fear of that with my kind and yours and how they interact...?"

The answer came swiftly.

YES.

My eyes slid shut. A breath expelling from clenched teeth. "...well. That's not ominous at all, is it?" A stray thought, "Are we talking more abstract like will, or are we talking...annihilation?" Destruction of my species in any format was...not ideal.

MY SIBLINGS DO NOT FEAR THAT

Of course they didn't. "They seem...less concerned with us. At least...in comparison." In comparison to him. To maybe a small handful. From what I'd heard and seen we were...expendable parts. Cattle. It sat like a lump in my chest and stomach.

ALL BUT ONE. THE END MOTHER.

Unbidden, a chill came over me. Her. Memories flashed across my mind. A great eye of stars in the sky. Nerves colored my tone. "Yeah..." the word was drawn out. "Her." My voice was quiet. Meeker. "I don't think I like her."

SHE AND I AGREE, WE...NEED LIMITS

I wanted to pursue that. The idea of them limiting themselves but..the fear still ran cold in me at mention of Her, raising the hair on my arms. It distracted my senses, leaving me fumbling and desperate to leave the cold chill of the Maze and get back beneath the sky above me. "She's a finality but she scares me...I don't know if that's wise or not." Was death not a promise given to all who breathe their first breath? Whose hearts beat?

But I...I didn't want to die. Not now. I'd seen too much death in the Maze. Watched it take my friends. I didn't want to be added to that growing ledger.

IT IS.

It was a relief to hear that confirmation come back to me. That I wasn't a fool for it. But...I knew there were also some that saw her differently. "I...don't see how some people are as close to her as they are...But..that's their choice to make I think." And after all, wasn't choice something entirely human to begin with?

There was a pause between us as I sought my way out of the Maze, sliding out of a garage utility hatch. I still felt jittery. Unnerved, until I was back in the night air and under the expanse of stars again. "A little better...a little more room to think..."

I felt awkward in the silence, the restlessness in me giving way to discomfort. You're wasting his time, now. "I...I had another question but I'm trying to remember what is was..." In the face of the buzzing remnants of what had been panic blooming, any path of thought had fragmented to splinters, slipping through my grasp. Coherent thought was lost to the late hour, and I felt the dismay tighten it's noose around my neck, along with the returning guilt that I had brought him here for these things at all.

I AM HERE.

Three words.

Three simple words, and yet they still knocked back the growing buzz in my head. The panic that maybe I hadn't been...enough in that moment.

I couldn't help the soft laugh, "I'm glad but...my mind apparently isn't." I tried once more for the fading fractures of thought, but as before, they eluded me.

YOU WILL SEE ME AGAIN, SPARROW.

Will I? I wanted to ask. How can you promise that in a place like this? The words rose and fell behind my mouth like a wave. I tamped them down. Sealed them away. I found new words instead.

"That's good.." but still, the desperate tide could not be stemmed, breaching now in some way. Trying to apologize for this hole in my chest. Trying to assuage the guilt that burned in me for my doubt. He was my friend. Why was I afraid now?

Reality was a bleak reminder of the difference between how I hoped things should be, and how rarely they aligned to truth.

"I just...I wanna say..." He's a friend. You can talk to him about anything, right? "I've been scared and a little...worried lately? Not necessarily by you or your actions but..Maybe also given to doubt." The admittance fell from my tongue like a weight. "I want to apologize if..." I shut my eyes, exhaling another wavering breath. "If some of my questions might be strange or hard in the coming days." They were always there. A ceaseless, binding vine that grew where it had been cut. Some days it threatened to overwhelm. Strangle and crush.

The hush of his presence slid back.

I DO NOT JUDGE.

How very different he was from Them. Who judged without thought. I envied him the skill, even if I wondered some days if he didn't just side eye all of us in spite of the claim.

"I know." I took a fortifying breath. "But I'm all too human," All too different from you. "And I still fear anyway..." It was a useless emotion, fear. And yet I was packed to the brim with it. I wanted to just take it and throw it somewhere dark and deep. Take the hollow it left and form it with something newer and stronger but...I don't know if that would still be me.

"But I'm glad that you're there to listen."

I AM. I WILL BE. IT IS MY HONOR.

I bit down on my tongue, feeling a pang at the words. Kind of him. Far too kind for the likes of you. You who doubt. You who question everything.

And yet.

Don't I trust him, too?

It was a war of emotions and yet. The kernel of trust remained. An anchor amidst the strife.

"...you're too nice. And sometimes that's the worst part in all of this." I tried to soften the words with a laugh, but the sound was hoarse and dry, wispy as the wind that coursed in the trees around us both.

GOODNIGHT, DEAR SPARROW. SURVIVE.

I could feel that presence draw away now. Going back to wherever it is he resided when he wasn't with one of us. In parting I replied, hoping that he would catch it, "Goodnight. Thank you, Thee-I-Dare."

In the remaining silence of Hoadly I felt...wrung out. The guilt was there but...more bearable. Time. Perhaps I needed...time.

But now I'd found the exhaustion I'd been seeking. Worn out and tired, I just wanted to go back home and sleep it all off. Maybe the fear would go away with the dawn, dissipating like a nightmare in the morning sun.

I could only hope.

[radiodreadzone]

I hated it. I hated the feeling that burned in my chest like an itch. Like a weight. It felt like a jittering in my limbs and in my legs. I needed to...to go. To move. To be anywhere but here. A glance at the window from the kitchen table showed it was late afternoon. Too early to sneak to the boxcar. Too early to do anything besides simply...escape. I slipped from the table, toeing my way into my shoes.

"Mom! I'm going for a run!" I shouted back into the house, already out the door before I could hear any response or protest she might have offered.

I spared no time to change. No time to even stretch. As soon as I hit the sidewalk I was running, cutting my way up the sidewalk and away from the neighborhood, towards the trailhead that lead into the woods.

There was...There was too much lately. Too much. It preyed on my mind like an endless anxiety.

I tried to slow the crawl of it with the count of my breaths, trying to stabilize.

You can't help. What good are you, detective?

Teeth grit.

Leaf litter crunched underfoot, dirt puffed in the dry heat of the sun, leaving soft impressions behind me. I picked up speed. "There's...gotta be...something." The words came from behind tightly clenched teeth.

Flashes and images. The nights in the boxcar. People with grand ideas and plans.

"He's okay. He said he's getting stronger. He's come back."

Faster.

"We managed to reach his sibling! I think we're making progress. He's so thankful."

Faster.

"He missed me."

I was in a dead sprint now. Running from the thoughts that refused refused to empty, even as my heart thundered and my lungs burned. "Stop...just...just stop.

HE CARES NOT FOR YOU

It was the vaguest thought, scraping gently by the back of my head. I staggered, clipping the tree I'd been rounding. Bark scraped my palms, biting into skin as I came to a halt, panting, eyes wide. The hair on the back of my neck prickled.

The sense of being watched. A sharp focus leveled upon my shoulders. Too many eyes.

I flinched.

"Go away." I whispered under ragged breaths. I'd unknowingly begun taking the path to the boxcar. That stopped now. I refused to show Them where it lay, for who else could be there.

But silence greeted me. Birds sang, and cicadas hummed. I lifted my head, staring into the distance. "You're wrong." The words were whispered, I couldn't bring my voice up further. Afraid to voice my own fears. "I...I'll help him. No matter what."

BUT WHAT USE HAS HE FOR A FEARFUL CHILD

My eyes shut, burned. I refused to break. Not to them. I refused to let them know how close they'd come to the mark. Minutes passed in silence. And slowly, the sense of being watched faded. The attention passed to someone else. I slowly righted myself from my heavy lean against the tree.

It was hours later when I found the boxcar. After the sun had gone down.

In the dull glow of the lights I stood in front of the mirror. In my pocket, I could feel the heavy weight of the lighter. A hand slipped into my pocket wrapped tightly around the cool metal.

THOSE QUESTIONS. THE HARD ONES. WHISPERED INTO THE DARK OR SCREAMED UNTO THE SKY...THAT IS WHY WE ARE HERE, SPARROW.

My eyes met those of my reflection in the mirror. A muscle ticked in the jaw of the reflection.

Thoughts torrented in my head.

I don't know how to help you.

I don't know what to do.

Soft and quiet, the most haunting thought surfaced in the back of my head.

I think you made a mistake in choosing me.

The hand on the lighter tightened. I took it out of my pocket, staring down at the surface glinting in the light of the boxcar. Time ticked past, meaningless. Slowly my eyes flicked from the Light to the altar.

Crossbow in hand, I left the boxcar with my friends. Silence reigned in the boxcar, and in my pocket, the heavy weight of the Light remained.