Chapter 11 – Brainwashed

"I am sorry Sayori. I wish I could have stopped this from happening, I wish that I whatever was going on was over but I promise you – I will fix this. I do not love Monika, but I am obsessed with her and I do not know why, and I really did think I was sleeping with you and not her. What I need to do you will not like, what I need to do you will not condone but I swear to you, I will regain control and whatever or whoever is doing this to me – I will beat them. I will win." I was sitting next to Sayori in hospital, listening to the continuous beep of her heartbeat on the monitor, a reassuring reminder that, despite that fact that she wasn't conscious, she was still here. I leaned in and kissed her on the forehead before standing up ready to leave the hospital.

"If I don't see you again, I hope that you forgive me." And with that said, I left the hospital. I walked outside and embraced the cold night again and, without any plan in place, I am filled with a determination to unravel the conspiracy, and end this once and for all. After I took a taxi back to my apartment, I opened the door and was greeted with a magnificent smell which oozed decadence and encouraged hedonistic self-indulgence. I looked into the kitchen and saw Natsuki, dressed in just a T-Shirt and short shorts.

"That fragrance is positively divine." I said, looking at Natuski. My presence had startled her as she was just about to open the oven.

"Flynn! You scared the shit out of me!" She replied, flustered by my sudden appearance. "I thought i'd do some baking, your diet is quite frankly shocking."

"And you thought it would be a good idea to broaden my palette with brownies." I said, chuckling to myself as I walked towards the living room table, and placing my bag down on the wooden surface.

"Well chocolate comes from cocoa beans and that counts as a vegetable right?" She smugly replied, placing her hands on her hips and beaming a smile towards me. It was nice to have her living with me now. The apartment felt empty now that Sari was... Absent.

"What's the special occasion then? You couldn't have just done this for my benefit." I said, walking back towards her in the kitchen.

"Well... I guess I wanted to say thank you for, you know, providing a solution to a problem. Also, it's my 24th birthday today!" Shit, I had no idea that she had turned 24 today!

"Happy birthday. You know, in England it's customary to honour the individual through celebration." I said, laughing to myself on the inside.

"Ooooh? How do you do that?" She said, intrigued by our British custom.

"We punch you 24 times because you've turned 24." I said, smiling and chuckling to myself. I always thought it was a strange custom, and every year back in my home country I was covered in bruises stemming from affection.

"You try that and you'll think Theon Greyjoy had it easy." She said, laughing back at me. Deciding that one would rather keep their appendages in their proper place, I decided to not risk this custom – gentle though it may be.

"Go sit down on the sofa and i'll bring these brownies through." I did as Natsuki ordered and walked back into the living room and sat down on the sofa. I brought up Netflix on our smart TV and put on a documentary created by a British national treasure – Sir David Attenborough.

"Here you go." She placed a tray of brownies on the coffee table in front of the sofa and sat next to me. I grabbed a brownie and eagerly placed it in my mouth, tasting the soft gooey chocolate.

"I apologise for the language, but these are fucking incredible." I said. They were possibly the best pseudo-dessert I had ever tasted.

"Can I say something?" Natsuki asked.

"Of course." I said, still taking brownie after brownie from the table.

"After what happened to my Dad I thought I would feel something but... The only thing I feel bad about is that, I can't help but feel like I have blood on my hands despite the fact that I didn't kill him. He really was a piece of shit. He used to hurt me in ways I couldn't describe. Not just physically and emotionally but..." Natsuki's voice trailed over. I stopped eating brownies and turned to face Natuski.

"You mean he?..." Seeking confirmation for my suspicions.

"Yeah..." Natsuki said, as a single tear streamed down her face. I removed my tweed jacket and took out the hankerchief from the top pocket. I dabbed the tear from Natsuki's face.

"Whatever he did to you, whatever he made you do... He can't hurt you anymore. He's dead. And you don't have blood on your hands, something killed him, you've saw it now. You've seen what's been... Pestering me. I don't know what's going on but something had been making me see things, affecting me." I said, rolling up my white shirt sleeves up my forearms in an effort to make my tweed waistcoat appear less formal.

"I would think you're crazy but, after seeing it for myself... I don't know what to say. This feeling, this, blood on my hands feeling... How do I make it stop?" She pleaded with me, desperate to make the pain go away. I stared at her for a moment and stood up, walking over to the drinks cabinet and pouring myself a scotch. I grabbed the tumbler and walked over to the window which oversaw the beautiful cityscape of New York, ready to relay her a story.

"When I was first deployed to Afghanistan, I was just a kid really in the grand scheme of things. Sure, I was legally an adult but, to go to a war zone at such a young age... Anyway, after my first few days there I was sent out with my section, along with several other platoons, to a nearby Taliban controlled village. My fire-team were conducting a room clearance and, honestly? I couldn't bring myself to shoot my rifle. I couldn't bring myself to kill anybody. After we covered the whole building I walked back through the rooms to see if there were any survivors as ordered. There was just the one. I approached him, and took out my first aid kit to help him. I thought I heard somebody behind me but there was nobody there, but as I turned around he pulled out a pistol and took a shot at me. Fortunately, he missed. And that's when I did it. I disarmed him my breaking his wrist, and I used my combat knife to slowly pierce his heart. He was my first kill. Now he's the one I always remember, because I killed him out anger, not out of necessity. I killed him because I wanted too. For a long time I felt guilty, I had blood on my hands. But then I realised something. Sometimes in this world the wrong thing is the right thing to do, and if I did leave him alive? Well somebody else would have burned. So you shouldn't feel like you have blood on your hands because you've done the world a favour. If he lived, he would have just taken it out on somebody else." I stared out of the window and looked at the cityscape for a while, taking sips from my scotch when the mood struck me. Suddenly, Natsuki was hugging me from behind and it caught me off guard, pinning my arms to my sides.

"What are you doing?" I said, startled by her outburst of affection and slightly annoyed that I could not sip my scotch.

"You're such a tortured soul Flynn." She said, tightening her grip around me. For some reason I started to feel fuzzy, the world was like, television static and I found it extremely difficult to open my mouth to speak and I was just so, relaxed.

"Natsuki... Did you put something in those brownies?" I asked.

"I was wondering how long it would take to kick in!" She replied, laughing at me as she let go. "They're space cakes!"

"Whooooah." I felt strange. Very strange. The world was just so, fuzzy. We spent the rest of the evening eating brownies and watching the David Attenborough documentary. It was fucking amazing.

Knock knock knock.

The knocking? Now? I immediately stood up again, determined to keep going, to fight whatever was behind this. There was no more fear and I had no more tears to shed, I have a plan – not a very good one – but a plan nonetheless. Natsuki was frozen in time, with a brownie in hand half way between the table and her mouth, with crumbs which defied gravity. The David Attenborough had also stopped, paused on a scene involving a fearful creature descending into a trap.

Knock knock knock.

"Don't worry. I don't intend to keep you waiting!" I confidently shouted, unhosltering my glock 17, ready for a confrontation. I walked over to the front door and pushed down the handle. I again walked down the white corridor stained in blood towards the end of the hallway, my eyes aiming down the sights the entire way. As I reached the end of the corridor, there was a door – Victorian in design like previously – which I stopped just outside of. Before opening the door, I stopped, taking several slow deep breaths to steady my nerves. Except, rather than having an intense and fast heartbeat, it was slow. I was ready. I placed my hand on the door handle and opened the door, still aiming down my sights. I entered the room, and was greeted with a beautiful Victorian dining hall. The wooden walls were decorated with tasteful artistic designs, and the room was lighten up by an exquisite chandelier and a log fireplace to the side. Chopin's raindrops was playing in the background on a phonograph, and a long table dominated the room, furnished with elegant cutlery for two people at either end. At my end of the table was a spot for myself, and at the other end was my host. A single woman was sitting opposite to where I was standing, ready to greet me.

"You?" I queried. I aimed down the sights of my pistol at her head, ready to take the shot.