Chapter 10 – Another day
"Hold still!" I was attempting to give Natsuki some makeshift stitches for her face, but she was not coping with the pain very well. After burying Natsuki's father in the graves he had kindly dug for us both, we travelled back to my apartment by using the GPS on my mobile phone. We were both sat on the edge of the bath in my en-suite and, in an effort to ensure the authorities were not involved, it was decided that she would not seek medical attention from a hospital and would instead rely on my expertise and – by expertise – I mean using a sewing needle in conjunction with tooth floss.
"Ow! You're fucking terrible at this!" Natsuki squirmed as I closed the wound in her cheek.
"The more you fidget the more this will scar, and I'd rather leave as little a reminder as possible of the events tonight." I replied. After I finished stitching her cheek back together, I applied a small amount of super glue, just enough to close the wound further and to minimise the likelihood of infection.
"So now what? What should I say happened?" She asked, washing the blood from the rest of her face in my sink. I stood up from the edge of my bath and threw the needle in the bin and, after Natsuki was finished washing her face, I cleaned my hands in the sink.
"Just tell them you had a baking accident, cutting chocolate can be a dangerous task." I replied, smiling towards Natsuki. She giggled in response and, for the first time this evening, we both felt relief. While Sari was in a coma, at least she was alive rather than dead. Natsuki's father will no longer be a concern and, when his disappearance is noted, a letter constructed to fabricate his decision to abandon his daughter will absolve Natsuki of any suspicion. The evening was done and we both went to our respective rooms. Natsuki in Sayori's, and myself in mine. I try to fall asleep but the trauma of the past few days is taking a toll on my psyche. Everything I've seen, everything I've experienced, everything that's happened is just too much. How can I keep taking this? How can I keep juggling all of this pain, while writing a PhD too?
Knock knock knock.
Not again, not again! The knocking, the knocking at my front door. The incessant knocking. Never ending. Never faltering. Unrelenting. I stand up from my bed and grab my Glock 17 from the bedside table. Taking a deep breath, I leave my bedroom and take aim at the main door. Wearing nothing but boxer shorts, I approach the front door and place my left hand on the door handle.
Knock knock knock.
I push the handle down and open the door. What greets me rather than the usual hallway lined with other apartments is the same white, now stained red, corridor. I walk through the corridor, aiming down my sights the entire time and scanning for threats. The cold penetrates through my skin as my bare feet make contact with the blood stained tiles. As I reach the end of the corridor there is no door and, what greets me instead, is a full length mirror. I stare at the reflection and, rather than seeing myself in just my boxer shorts, I see the blood soaked soldier in full camouflage gear. My reflections skin is stained red and my clothing is dripping blood all over the floor, a constant flow oozing from the camouflage gear. I put my hand on the mirror and, obviously, my reflection does the same. As I place my hand on the mirror, it shatters, slicing me with a large piece of glass. Rather than a tiled wall, greets me on the other side – is me. He steps forward, leaving a trail of blood behind him as he walks towards me. I hold my ground as he approaches.
"Look at yourself. A blood stained warrior masquerading as a philosopher. You've killed too many people to be washed clean of your sins." He stops, inches from my face and I stare into his eyes – my eyes. "This is what you are." I hear somebody walk around me and I turn around to face them.
"A murderer." I see John again, drenched in blood with the bullet hole through his head which I put there. I killed my friend. Me. "You should have saved me!" He screams.
"And should have saved her!" I'm grabbed from behind by the shadow version of myself, and John also grabs onto me. They both controls my arms and begin to drag me towards where the mirror was except, rather than stopping at the wall, we go through it. The room is featureless, and contains nothing of note except for a single metal table in the darkness lit up by a powerful halogen light. They throw me onto the table and restraints appear which latch onto my wrists and ankles as if by their own accord. The shadow version of myself stands over me and he stares at me with his blank white eyes.
"Why!? Why are you doing this!? Please just leave, me, alone!" I beg my captor, but he shows no emotion other than contempt for me. A table phases into existence next to me and is covered in different tools, each intended to strike fear and instil pain into a captee.
"I'm doing this for her." The shadow version of me grabs scissors from the table and slices my shirt open. What the fuck is he going to do? Torture me? To what end? I possess no information that he himself would not no. The next tool he grabs is a scalpel. He places the blade at the top of my chest and begins to slice into my skin, the blade cutting through me effortlessly. The pain is exquisite, but I hold it together intending to not satisfy my captor with screams of pain.
"Is that all you fucking got! Come on! Make my fucking day!" I scream, struggling against my restraints. Despite my anger exterior, on the inside I am terrified. This whole situation is utterly horrifying and all I want to do is escape. The shadow version of myself picks his next weapon of choice and just seeing it stops me from screaming out in anger. He grabs a serrated saw. I stare at the tool, it's serrated teeth are hauntingly sharp, and I begin to struggle even more against my restraints. I have to fucking escape!
"No, please! Don-" But before I can finish my sentence he begins to saw through my breast bone, cutting my sternum apart. With each movement of the saw wave after wave of agonizing pain reverberates throughout my form, and all I want to do is pass out from the pain but my body won't let me. At this point i'm shaking from the pain, my body is absolute shock from being subjected to such excruciating horror. However, my captor is not finished. He reaches into my open chest and grabs onto my heart, ripping it out from my body. Then, suddenly, the woman appears over me. She grabs the heart from the shadow version of myself and, holding it above her head, stabs it with a knife, dripping my own blood over me.
"Ama me." She echoes, before phasing out of existence. I continue to shake and sweat, too weak to fight against my restraints. I wake up back in my bedroom to an intense wave of nausea overwhelming me, and I have to pick myself up from my bed and run to the bathroom. I throw up in the sink and red blood covers the white surface in a disgusting ichor but, now, more than ever… All I can think about is Monika. All I can think about is how bad I fucking need Monika. Monika. Just Monika. I look back up from the sink and stare into the mirror and I don't see myself, or the blood soaked soldier – I see the woman from the corridor. I see her just staring at me. Staring through me. I must have passed out because the next thing I remember is Natsuki standing over me and shaking me awake.
"Flynn! Wake up! What happened!?" She says, still shaking me. I open my eyes and look up at Natsuki. Her face is phasing back and forth between her own and that of Monika. I can't fucking stop thinking about Monika. Calm down Flynn, you'll see her at the association later, don't worry, everything will be alright.
"I'm okay. I don't know what happened, it's just been a tough few days…" I stand up from the floor and brush myself off.
"Oh my G- Flynn, what happened to you?" Natsuki is staring at my topless body, I forgot I was just wearing boxers but she is specifically referring to the multitude of scars covering my body, mementos from Afghanistan. Bullet holes, knife wounds, and incendiary burns.
"Don't worry about it. Anyway, we have to get to NYU." Natsuki and I get ready in our respective rooms and we walk to NYU. My day goes slow, and all I can think about is seeing Monika at the literature association. After I finish giving my lectures, I walk to Sayori's lecture room. I enter the hall and see that, while Yuri has been in the room already, she must have left to get some other things. Other than that, I am alone in the hall. It feels strange, being here, while Sari is at the hospital in a coma. I try to focus on thinking about Sayori but my thoughts keep flickering back between her and Monika. Just Sayori. Just Monika. No Just Sari. No. Monika. My head begins to pound and the nausea hits me again like an iron fist to the stomach, but it passes as quickly as it came. I walk over to where Yuri has put her things and she has left her book, the portrait of markov, on the table. I remember she mentioned it was about a religious political prison camp and decide to give it a quick glance. I sit down at the table and open the book. The story is horror incarnate, and details a young girl being subjected to what I can only describe as brutality. The book is expertly written, but I can't help but feel a twinge of disgust while reading it.
"Are you enjoying my book?" I look up and see Yuri standing in the doorway, smiling towards me.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy." I say, closing the book and stepping away from the table. Yuri walks towards me and picks up the book, passing it towards me.
"You can read it with me? If you'd like? Not many people like this sort of thing and it'd be nice to share it with somebody." She says, opening up the book to the last page she had read. The pages are worn, like she has read the tome several times. Before I can answer, Monika enters the room, and all I want to do is talk to her. Just Monika. Just Monika. Just. Monika.