CHAPTER FIVE: Meeting Channy and Jonathan
Channy? She's dead. Just like we should be. I saw her there, on the cold, hard ground, along with crimson splotches. But there she was-gliding? Yes, she was gliding in the air, calling for him. "Is that really you!" Red yelled, almost angrily, "Because I won't take another joke!" "Yes, Red. It is I, Channy." "Right. Okay. Sure. Tell me something only you would know!" "I know the dark secret." "Yeah? What is it then!" "I'm here!" Said a voice that announced Justin's arrival, and that he was rather exhausted, "What'd I miss?"
Justin walked towards Red, apparently oblivious to the floating Channy. "Hey, Red." "Hi, Justin. Turn around and look slightly upward, 'kay?" Justin turned around slowly, looked upward, and turned back around, "Why is there a floating Channy?" "That's what I wanna know."Hey, guys. I'm still here and I'm not blind either," said Channy disrupting the we're-not-getting-anywhere-with-this conversation between Red and Justin. "Right. I remember that." Boom. Sudden light. The symbol. All at the same time. This hinted that the legendary one was with them. Maybe even one of them.
It all came back. All the memories were here. In the coma-like white room. They were all on file right here. He wanted to stay here, but knew this was all but real. "Clever boy," said the cold, drawling voice of the legendary one, "You know you can't stay here. But what you don't seem to know is that these are fake, not real. These are just mind-simulated pictures of parts of memories. However, it proves I have failed to rid them completely." Red struggled to speak against him, but found it useless to struggle against something impossible, his voice was constrained by his own mind. Talk about mutiny. "You can't speak, but I can't either. What's that you ask? I'm not really here, all you are doing is hearing me. I am not there with you."
Red woke up looking at the ceiling of a room, with his right forearm burning. He looked where it hurt- it was a deep red and it was also the mark. At the top, middle of the ceiling, this portrayed a crimson sky, like at the train crash. He realized, not only was it when he was near death, or dead, but also when he was in a coma-like sleep. Still he contemplated why he could turn the sky crimson. He could be hallucinating. "Poor boy," Red heard him, "Why hath thou followed me? By the way, I speak the tongue of proper English. Not the way thou's generation has broken it into what thou calls "slang". However annoying it may be, I think I'll speak "slang", but only for your convenience."
Red spoke, "You aren't the same Jonathan I once knew, he wasn't dark and twisted." "Correct," Jonathan walked out of the darkness, "Even so, I look nothing like him, however I am him-that is, in the brain and the soul."