Chapter 8

~Narihisago~

Screaming throbbed in my ears. I scrambled blindly, tripping and fumbling until I collided with what I presumed was a wall. My hand rode it down. I couldn't see through the stinging hot moisture in my eyes.

Tears or was that blood?

My face … God, the searing agony, the sensation of the blood pouring down my throat—I still felt it all! My hands clamped over my face—it was slick with something damp and hot dripping through my fingers. Was that blood? Everything was blurry and dark … the room was dimly lit. Where was I? What the hell was happening? I felt like a shipwreck stranded on the rocks on a moonless night in a region where I didn't know the constellations.

Through the torrent of screaming I thought I heard a voice, "Who told you to get up? You're not supposed to move unless ordered to!"

Each harsh inhale burned in my throat. Dimly, I realized the screaming was from me. But in my hysteria I was powerless to stop it. I had died … how was I screaming? How was I breathing? How was I moving? How was I aware? Was this purgatory? Was this hell? Would this terrible limbo last forever?

I huddled tighter, trying to crawl inside the wall. Who was I?

"Narihisago!"

Yes … that was my name. Akihito Narihisago.

Not a damn number.

Not Sakaido.

Narihisago.

"I told you to—"

"Yamane, please just leave the room."

"But sir, he's dan—"

"Just leave! Close the door."

Every breath rasped into my throat. It left in a terrified wail I now felt as I hunched on the floor clawing at my face.

A shadowy figure approached my side, I glimpsed it though the gap of my fingers. The mad panic surged anew and I fought to scramble away, trying to form words and utterly failing. I must have sounded like a wounded animal. Mentally that's all I was.

"Easy, Narihisago. It's me, it's Momoki. Please calm down."

I doubted it was. That voice probably something concocted from my memory to torture me. This was nothing but a surreal trip … similar to the side-effects of the drugs they had thrown at me in my first months of prison revisited my memory. I'd heard him there, too, when he couldn't have been there. Oh hell—not that all over again. They'd said 'inject' … I had heard inject! Were there drugs? Had they shot me up? I couldn't deny the fact that at the moment I had no reference for what was real and what wasn't.

Fuck!

Had I said that aloud? I didn't even know. All I wanted to do was run but my legs wouldn't listen to me. Run? Run where? I couldn't even see straight!

… a buzzing of an electric blade as it scraped against my skin …

I shuddered violently and the screaming intensified.

"Narihisago. Listen to me. You're not in the dive anymore. It's just us in the cockpit chamber. You're alive. You're alright. Stop screaming."

At those words I choked on a sob. Blinking my eyes I realized the fluid was merely tears. Hot, clear tears. "My face … " I was shaking so badly I wasn't sure it came out right.

"Is still there. That didn't happen in reality. It didn't happen to you." Momoki … he was forcing himself to be so calm.

Slowly, I edged my hands up. The flesh was there, damp from the sweat and tears. I had to scrub my eyes with the backs of my hands several times to clear my vision. But each time I touched the skin it was whole, intact.

From a distance, notably well out of striking range, Momoki pulled out his phone and set it on camera mode, holding it out so that it showed me my refection. The man who stared back had aged terribly. Hair grown out hanging limp and lifeless, even edged with fear the eyes seemed faded in some kind of death stasis, pale complexion etched with lines of insanity. That … was me? I lifted a hand and the image on the phone did the same. I blinked. The image did the same.

But none of it mattered. The mirrors had shown the whole. My face could still be gone.

I touched it again. Skin, whole and intact.

This didn't make sense. I had felt my lungs drowning, each breath bubbling through blood. I had felt my heart stop. "What—the—fuck—happened—to—me?"

Returning his phone to his pocket Momoki continued to keep his distance, which was fine as I kept my shoulder against the wall trying to stop trembling, the closer he got the more my instinct to bolt paralyzed me. "That event shocked us all. None of us had ever witnessed anything like it before. The images and video captures we had seen merely showed the brilliant detectives simply hunting for clues."

I shook my head, perhaps a bit more violently than I intended. My fingers clawed at the floor. "Why couldn't I remember who I am in there? Who the hell is Sakaido?"

"Easy, calm down. We'll figure this out. The chief told me there would be some quirks with the system. That is probably one of them."

"A quirk?" I stared at him through the top of my eyes, he took a step back. "Forgetting who I am is a quirk? Experiencing my face getting sliced off is just a quirk? Putting that rather mild, are we?"

He held his hands out protectively. "Narihisago—I am begging you to calm down. Please. Just take few breaths and let's talk about this. I am serious. Don't make a bad decision again."

… Finger on a trigger, eyes staring down the gun sight … no going back …

No! NO! Not there! Don't go there now, not with him in the room. I've hurt enough people. No more!

I tried as much as I could to get a grip, to trust his words. Shutting my eyes I leaned forward, resting my forehead against the cool floor. That felt like a relief against my burning skin. For uncounted minutes the sound of breathing was all that filled that room. It seemed to take forever before my own cadence matched his.

"Be honest with me, are you in control?"

Slowly, I nodded, peeling up off the floor, I leaned back against the wall, my chest still burning from the earlier scream fest. I was convinced I had pulled a muscle or two between my ribs. "Sorry … that just … I can't quite … ok, that shit really freaked me out, alright?"

Momoki released a held breath. "Understandable. I was serious when I said the others were quite shocked by the sight."

"Heh, now try feeling it."

"What was it like?" He held up a single hand. "Not to be rude, but this is a first and we need information."

Great, just make me recall it. I hung my head trying to fight back the welling panic. "It felt like someone sliced my face with an electric knife in the same manner they would slice a ham, if you must know."

He cringed.

"Tsh, it's not pleasant drowning in your own blood and feeling your heart stop."

Now he was a bit paler in the dim light. "You're joking … oh my God—you're not joking."

"Not one bit. You said VR, that was not like any VR I had ever imagined. I swear, I was Sakaido. I felt him, I ran in his body, I experienced that entire world as much as this one."

"Keep in mind that is a construction resembling a serial killer's drive."

My eyes opened a bit wider. It was what? I knew I should have been listening to him that other day. Still, that was inconceivable … and yet, for some reason that now made some form of distorted sense with my experience. The subconscious was an unfiltered portion of the mind unhampered by morals or ethics, it was comprised of basic needs and desires without the superego's check on what was considered … ehhh, right or wrong.

So within that id well we were seeing the core deviation of this killer's mind. And the subconscious, by its very nature, can't lie or deceive.

Which also meant—they had nowhere to hide from me.

My hand covered half of my face, the gesture felt comfortable for some strange reason I never bothered to question. "Momoki … this id well … it's from a serial killer who's still out there, right?"

He nodded. "Yes. Five prior victims by the MO. This is from a recent crime scene, the body is several days old. The current victim is still being identified, but without a face … "

"The face is in the well. It's in the reflections in the mirrors."

"Are you …" His eyes narrowed. " … What did you say?"

"Shit. Just one victim is too many … trust me," the weight just about crushed me as I held myself tight, fighting back the tears, " … I would know."

"Don't bring that up now."

I shook my head. I had felt the fate that this killer's drive intended for others. Felt what he had already done. But I had lived because of where it happened. Others had suffered this unspeakable method. And more would if … I stared at the looming cockpit. "There is no excuse. No reasoning strong enough to justify this. This killer must be stopped no matter what."

Silence stretched between us filled only by a rapid increase in his breathing.

I no longer mattered, who was I compared to the innocent victims of this psychopath? Within the hellscape of that machine I could face his method and come back out still breathing—regardless of what happened. It wouldn't matter how many dives it took, I would ferret out his identity and insure he never hurt anyone ever again.

My knuckles flared white against my knee. I tried to summon the strength to stand, but my legs were rubbery. I bowed my head and swore. "Fuck! I have to do this—but I can't."

He stepped between me and the machine. "I won't torture you."

I panted each breath, wrestling with the growing panic attack, my pulse thundered in my ears. I gained nothing, paralyzed I crouched on the floor. "Don't think of it like that. There are six known victims now. If he's done it this many times, he will kill again. We have the chance to stop the next one, but only if we get the clues. The victims have experienced that horrific process." I clenched my teeth. "This is the price I am to pay for crossing the line. I will face death—so that no others have to." I fixed him with a desperate glare. "Please. I can't … move. I'm begging—you have to order me to get in there." My breathing was running away from me at the thought of going back in. "If you do that … I cannot refuse you. It's just the way I am now … " I lowered my head, the tears welling in the corners of my eyes once more, " … the way they made me." Could I even be salvaged? Was I even human anymore? The silence stretched onward, was he even still here? I lifted my gaze.

Momoki's eyes trembled as hard as I did. Slowly, he stepped to the side clearing the most direct path to the cockpit. Pulling himself upright as tall as he could, Momoki took a deep breath and declared with no room in his tone for discussion, "Narihisago, get back into the cockpit right now."

The knot in me released. It was as though everything went into autopilot. I had not made the decision, this choice was not mine … even though at my core I was frightened as all hell to go back in, I had no choice. So I pushed up from the floor, head bowed I shuffled toward the looming cockpit.

The answers were in there. The key to catching this sicko and dragging his twisted ass to justice. This was now my purpose, to face their deranged minds to spare others the dismal fate. I forced myself to slowly sit back in the chair swallowing the nerves. My eyes cast toward Momoki as he lingered by the door, worry playing in them. "Thank you." I whispered.

His hand lingered by the door. "Are you sure you can do this?"

"No." I sighed. "But I'm sure as hell not going to give up until I solve this thing." Even if I have to die a thousand times, I will root out this killer.

I'm not sure what I was expecting from him, but it wasn't the sorrow in his eyes. "Alright." He turned away. "Standby for the next dive."

The door opened and closed behind him. I sat uneasily in the chair staring up at the screen with the moniker blazing on it. Face-lifter. Yeah, they got that one right. Son of a bitch, what drove a man to doing this—more than once?

~Momoki~

As I climbed the staircase I heard their chatter, that answered my question. I had calmed down our pilot, but now I had to deal with the team. The moment I appeared in the Wellside I was assaulted by a barrage of questions, none of which I could make out let alone answer.

Holding up my hands I called out, "Quiet! One at a time please."

Wakashika leaned over the railing. "We couldn't hear a thing, is the pilot ok?"

That was a rather loaded answer. And to be perfectly honest, I didn't want to give the full one. "Narihisago was blindsided by that. No one knew something like that could happen. It took him a few moments to get his head back in the game."

"Wait … so after that he's ready to dive again?"

I nodded.

"Really? Imagine the balls on a guy willing to actually gruesomely die in a simulated event more than once. Shit, I like playing realistic games—but I'm tellin' yeah, I'd be changing my pants after that."

I noted all around me the raised eyebrows. Even Togo couldn't hide that.

"Sir," she glanced down at the tablet, "his vitals are still elevated."

"I am aware of that. But we have a few minutes up here before we reset. He's on standby."

Shiratake scratched his head. "I can't believe none of us saw something like this. We talked about it while you were down there. None of the test dives were violent at all."

"In truth," Habutae tapped a finger on his chin, "it shouldn't be surprising. We are talking about the drive of serial killers."

A rare voice came from behind me, Kokufu stared at his tablet. "I think Shiratake is referring to how odd it is that we weren't shown that side of things. As though there was concern we would walk away from this project. But once under an NDA we'd be less likely to break ranks."

That actually made a bit of sense. Who would have volunteered to do this if they knew what they'd be seeing? The demonstrations really had looked like some puzzle solving video game. What we just saw looked like an insert into a horror film without the preamble. No wonder Narihisago had lost his shit temporarily. Honestly thinking about it, he had taken things remarkably well.

Maybe a little too well. I hadn't liked the expression in his eyes. I couldn't even describe it. A strange resolve similar to his obsession from before—but grimmer. It disturbed me that he was clearly paralyzed until I commanded him. How had my words cut through that? Why had he wanted to go through this again? It didn't make sense … unless … his old obsessive nature.

Was he still there? Only one way to find out.

Giving everything a once over, it all looked good. Narihisago's heart rate and respiration were close to normal now. I brought but up the visual, and he was just laying there focused on the screen. Switching on the speaker system I called out, "Narihisago, you alright to go back in?"

"As I'll ever be." His voice had settled back into that flat tone, such a contrast from the fear laden shrieks from before.

"Alright team." As I looked around, they seemed a bit uncertain but as I locked eyes with each of them they nodded back to me, steeling themselves. "The last run was cut short. It's ok. We're working the bugs out of the system. Togo, be prepared to eject at the slightest sign of a threat. If we can prevent him from dying that would be ideal. Everyone else, you know your roles—concentrate on the clues. Let's catch this killer. Inject him!"

I turned to face the holographic well. In a short period of time, Narihisago's digital avatar formed, the same as last time. How much would things repeat themselves, I wondered once again as his thoughts grappled with the amnesia.

That was a rather odd effect of this process. Wouldn't the ability to accumulate knowledge make more sense?

"Kaeru!"

My head snapped to the screen capture. It was her again! The same as before. Kiki Asukai, I swore that was a younger version of her! But why? How? Narihisago had never met her, that I knew of. I found her after he'd been secured.

"I don't know her, but I know her name. And by knowing that I know my name is Sakaido."

I held my breath. So, this was a constant of the system? Sakaido?

"Everything has a purpose here, even me. I have a role to play—I am the brilliant detective. I am here to solve Kaeru's murder."

Alright then … Sakaido, show us what you got.