Hushed embrace of unconsciousness, his mind traverses a curious realm, where reality and dream intertwine in delicate intricacies. A dance of fragmented thoughts and sensations, impulses and abstract thoughts are flashing and merging.
Amid the silence, memories flicker like distant stars, weaving together in a tapestry of emotions. Faces long forgotten emerge from the shadows, voices whispering forgotten secrets. Time blurs, moments that once passed in the blink of an eye stretch into eternity.
The mind is like a painter's canvas, splashed with vivid hues of emotion. In this ephemeral liminality, he saw every second he'd spent in that place. The feelings of knives cutting him, needles puncturing his skin, pills in his mouth. He feels overwhelmed.
Yet, as the hellish realms unravel, a growing awareness emerges. The awareness of a void, a profound sense of absence. Like a slow awakening from a dream, a gradual realisation that something is not quite right. He forced his eyes to open.
Shadows morph into shapes, and the colours intensify, as the illusion fractures, giving way to a stark and unfamiliar reality.
Bright. It was bright. Everything is white.
His head turns away from the source, irritated by the discomfort of the light. His back now facing it, his mind greatly fatigued. He longs for more sleep, as his eyes flicker, searching the darkness for comfort.
But it appears to be impossible as the feeling of hunger gnawed at him, sinking its fangs in his back. He frowns even more, cursing his body.
He feels every joint in his body, sharp and sore. He used his arms as a leverage, pushing against them, painfully trying to get up.
He now sat on the surprisingly comfortable mattress. He hisses in pain, a stinging sensation enveloped his head, his eyes closed shut tight in an attempt to stop the sensation. "Damned bastards." He groans in frustration, unable to move any further.
A click and a shrill sound resonate from the other side of the room, cutting through the silence. "You're awake." A calm, disembodied voice says.
He gave a one eyed stare, glaring his red eyes at the doorway. It was only now that he realised how odd the place looked. A room that he couldn't recall ever seeing.
A pristine white wall and a tiled floor, adorned by a small nightstand and chair besides his bed. Both colours were vibrant white. The second thing that grabbed his attention was the tv. He'd heard of them and caught a glimpse once, but never before had he seen one this big.
That's when he knew that something's not right.
The man in the white coat can only throw a sad smile his way. Another thing he finds to be completely odd. No scientists had ever done that, not one, not ever. They're not human nor do they live. They don't feel things because they weren't supposed to. It will only hinder their job, they said once.
The warmth on his back, soothing like a warm blanket, caught his attention. His frown shifts into something. He turned his body, rolling to his side. A breath escapes his lips.
A window.
Not one that he's used to seeing. One where it only views death, where eternal conflict is shown bare and raw.
But this one.
Green and blue, each pooling together to form a prismatic blur. A tree, dense and tall, covered in a thick layer of thick moss. The leaves rustle, the soft breeze carrying the faint sound of nature. It's scent carried by the wind, a complex mixture of earthy, freshness.
The blue sky is decorated with a smattering of fluffy clouds. Undulating waves erupt and retreat with each forceful gust. The white glow reflecting the sky, its warm lights cast down on the bare earth. A single sun, high in the sky, but hidden in the far away clouds.
Solid hand settled by his shoulder with such care and gentleness. "You're safe now. There's nothing to fear." The words whisper in an attempt to calm his fast racing heart.
A portion of his subconscious mind took this as a threat, nearly twisting the hand of the infiltrator into a messy mash of meat. But the apparent shock of what he is seeing and the fear of what the immediate outcome might bring him. It was harsh enough in that place. He can only wonder what people out here are capable of.
Gulping down the build-up of saliva in his throat, he asks the only nagging question he has in mind. "Where am I?"
A solemn hush blankets the atmosphere of the office. Dimmed fluorescent lights cast a subtle glow, revealing worn linoleum floors and faded beige walls adorned with duty rosters.
The air carries the scent of stale coffee and paper, mingling with the faint inkling of cleaning agents. Half of them are located at a single large table located at the centre of the room, reading through numerous files. It's a work to read one after another, especially when all of them explicitly describe what a child had gone through. Acts that showed just how much damage people can inflict on one another, not caring for the victims and only concerned with the end goal.
In a corner, one of them types methodically at a desk, writing the report of the raid a few days ago, the rhythmic clatter of keys echoing through the hallway. Soft murmurs from neighbouring rooms occasionally break the stillness, as officers consult over cases.
The stillness is punctuated by the occasional ringing phone, a reminder of the station's ever-watchful vigilance.
In a separate room, Yomikawa, along with a few more of her agents, stares at a screen. Solemn look across their faces as a scream echoes from the monitors.
"What in the world is wrong with people." a short, rotund man murmurs, shuffling in his seat.
"Fuck this shit, I'm out." says a voice suddenly, shoving his chair back and standing up. He slips on his jacket, while muttering a brief prayer.
Yomikawa can't help but agree, they're getting nothing but nightmare fuel by watching these tapes. It was all just mindless horror, suffering at the hands of terrible monsters. The best they can hope for now is for a lead being made.
"I need a drink." She mused, rubbing the bridge of her nose and trying to relieve some of the tension from the past few hours. "I'm going out."
Mentally, she's exhausted, extremely so. It's been an awfully long day. She deserves a rest after what's happened. It's rare for the job to actually take a toll on her like this.
She walked past her peers and opened the door to the hallway and walked through the front door, letting the warm mid-noon breeze wash over her as she strolled towards a small bar located in the back corner of the office.
The inside is pretty quiet, as it is still relatively early. Only a handful of regulars are present, many of whom were fellow agents themselves, enjoying a drink or two. A few people were even seated at the tables, enjoying the silence. Including a familiar face.
"I was wondering where you might've gone off to." Yomikawa said a little mischievously, taking the stool right next to her.
The girl hummed, eyes glued to her phone. "I can't work with that tension lingering. It's driving me mad."
Yomikawa's lips tugged up, letting out a small laugh. "So you went out to get drunk instead? And someone says she doesn't drink." She teases, ruffling her already curvy hair.
Tsuzuri gave her a sharp look. "So you were listening." The girl replied, throwing a slight, accusing glare at her accompanied with a pout.
She laughed again, prompting the girl to deflate at the lively tone. The woman quieted down after a minute of a good laugh, pushing her mind away from the tedious work and welcomed the peace of her time away.
The bartender set down her drink. Yomikawa drained the last bit of alcohol from her mug, savouring the taste of the strong liquor and sweet freedom.
Her head is swimming, the usual fatigue quickly falling away. Yomikawa hadn't had this much alcohol since in a while now.
"So, how's the kid?" She asks in her boisterous way, the words becoming slurred slightly.
"No news yet." Tsuzuri states softly, her eyes still staring at the phone in his hands.
"Two days and still no news, huh?" The woman mumbled, massaging her temples. "I hope he's okay. Probably shouldn't be there on his own."
The girl nods. Yomikawa paused a little before an idea popped up. "I'm gonna go and see how he's doing. Wanna come?" Her smile was easy to see.
Tsuzuri nods again, letting out a soft breath. "I'm bored anyway, so why not."
"Nice. You're driving!" She said, tossing her a set of keys.
Tsuzuri gave her a strange look, ready to protest but decided against it. It's nice to see the woman being playful. She's been so stressed these past few days.
She downed the shot in one swallow. It burns all the way down, but it's worth it for the feeling. She only regretted not getting more.
Though, maybe it's for the best.
The food is as stale as it gets, making him crinkle his nose and still pucker his lips. But it is still better than those things he'd been eating up until now.
It's hard to bite through them, the texture is coarse and tacky. At the very least, it is enough for now, without putting too much strain on his mouth.
However, his primary concern for the moment is for this gnawing hunger in his stomach to be fully satiated. He can feel the hunger and anticipation fueling his body, demanding it wants some more.
He wolfed the food on the plate. Rice, soup, bread and some sort of vegetable that looks like a tree. It's a broccoli they call it.
And then there's this chocolate pudding. He took a bite of it. It was soft, gooey with a soft, sugary base. The light and fluffy texture reminded him of a donut he had the misfortune of tasting once, in a fair a while back. He's not a fan of it, it being too sweet for his liking.
Having washed it and set it down, he feels content. The hunger in his belly isn't as bad as it was, but he still can't help but feel the need to eat more.
A woman clad in a white uniform and a weird looking hat came in, smiled at him and took away the tray, asking him if he needed anything else.
He knew when he had to give a response, there was no way around it. "No." Quick, honest and direct. He'll speak his mind. No forcing the words out or holding back. He was taught that after all.
The woman nodded in understanding and then left without another word.
He is now left in this room.
It was quiet, aside from the rustling tree outside his window and the sound of constant passing vehicles and chatters from within the walls of this building.
He wasn't sleepy, nor did he feel like laying down and resting.
He'd really like to explore this place now that he was given the liberty to do so. He was rather excited for the possibilities of what the outside world could offer. After years of being secluded in that place, this level of freedom is certainly an unexpected surprise and he plans to make use of it as long as it lasts.
Though, the doctor told him not to force himself to get up yet. The wound on his head still hasn't fully healed, and that his body is too weak for him to move around too much, which is also the primary reason as to why they're feeding him so slowly, it is to make sure that his digestive system doesn't get overwhelmed. It will take a few days, at the very most 2 weeks, before he'll be ready to walk.
He trusts his words, for they were from the doctor and had been proven reliable enough to run this hospital. Surely he knows what he's talking about.
So he lays his head on the pristine white pillow and stares at the ceiling. He did that for a few minutes before deciding to just try and sleep.
He closed his eyes, taking in a few deep breaths. Just rest his weary body and mind for a little while and perhaps he'll wake up with something new to do.
Yet the embrace of sleep refuses to come. His eyes are shut, but his mind is still running at an all time high. Numerous thoughts and numbers are swirling around his brain, making it impossible to just shut them out and fall asleep.
He opens his eyes in a glare, a groan coming from his lips. He sat back up, feeling like he had just been punched in the face. His body is protesting the sudden lack of movement, a pain shot on his forehead that washes through his whole body.
He cursed under his breath, wincing at the pain, caressing the spot with a shaking hand. The boy can only sit, silently fuming with frustration until it subsides and he can function properly again.
"What can I do?" He murmurs, his voice barely a whisper.
His eyes laid on the tv. Curious, he reaches for the remote on the nightstand. Curious enough that it was worth a shot.
It turns on. He was met with a nice scene, shot almost like a documentary. It was a log cabin located deep in the woods, with a gorgeous view of a nearby lake.
And then the background music turns sinister. The footage was zoomed in, showing a previously unseen large ape like figure. Then it talked about how the bigfoot had made another sighting after years of relative silence.
Of course, having been going through years of seclusion, the boy can only wonder, "What the hell is he talking about?"
He frowns. This was the first time he had heard of it. Not that it matters anyway. The bigger question was, why was the media focusing on such a story?
His train of thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the shrill screech of the door sliding open, a woman bursting in with a smile on her face. "Hello!" She yelps, throwing her hands in the air in excitement.
He sits there, surprised at the sudden outburst, his brain was too busy trying to register her presence.
"Took your time to wake up, huh? How're you feeling?" Her voice is filled with so much enthusiasm, he could feel himself overwhelmed by her exuberance. He subconsciously leaned away from her.
The woman's expression turns a bit apologetic. "Sorry, I'm just glad to see you up and about." She smiles reassuringly at him. "The name's Yomikawa Aiho, nice to meet you." She trailed off for a bit, hinting for him to introduce himself as well.
His face remains stiff, unmoving. He simply stares back at her, meeting her eyes but not moving a muscle. She breaks her gaze, looking back at the tv. She pauses for a second. "So, um, have you done anything interesting today?"
He takes a moment to reflect, before answering. "Tv." Just as he said that, a footage showing a bigfoot sighting popped on screen.
She laughs. "Well that's interesting." She smiles again. Then, she appears a bit saddened. "So, how's your head? You might want to lay your head on the pillow and let it rest for a while."
There was a bandage wrapped around his head. Yomikawa could vividly remember the look of the scar. It was reddish in colour, reaching from side to side with a single well-formed line protruding from it.
She visibly cringes at the memory of it. "Why would they do that?" She asks, pointing at the bandage.
The boy pauses, taking in her reaction. It was the first time he had ever seen that look from someone's face. A deep level of curiosity flashed through him, as he attempted to make sense of why she would react the way she did.
Her silence and her stares demands and answer. So that's what he gives. "They're trying to modify it a bit. The frontal lobe has been slightly changed, to give it more accuracy and speed in which I would be able to process information and my surroundings."
His face remained calm as he spoke, each word came with so little emotion that it was impossible to guess how they had managed to affect him. This scares Yomikawa.
"And you're okay with this?"
"Not entirely." He answers after a moment of thought. "It hurts like hell, but if it meant them ignoring me for a while then so be it."
Yomikawa shifts her gaze away. The boy had lost his sense of humour, it seemed. He sounds unmotivated, as if he were simply dragging his feet through life. Yomikawa vows to herself that she would bring out the boy in him, if it was the last thing she did.
She shook her head. Her shoulder sagged, her expression becoming distant. "I'm sorry, I didn't get to you sooner." Her words and expression both softened, somewhat.
That seemed to have gotten a reaction from him. His head tilted towards her. "You're the one who got me out?"
She merely hums in response. He blinked in surprise. "Oh," he didn't remember it happening. Well he was unconscious throughout the whole ordeal. "Thanks." The boy murmurs, his voice laced with sincerity, his face neutral. It didn't seem like he was joking or simply saying it to placate her. It was genuine.
This too, surprises the woman. She offers a smile, he doesn't return it though, but still manages to slightly raise his eyebrow at her. "I haven't gotten your name by the way."
The boy stops for a moment. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He was visibly annoyed as a look of frustration formed on his face. She just waits patiently.
Eventually, his mouth closed. He turns to her. "I can't remember." The boy starts, not sure how to explain it to her.
"You... can't remember your own name?" He nods. A strange feeling of despair befalls her. Another question arises. "How long have you been in there."
The boy shrugs. "I don't know. I've been in there for as long as I could remember." He paused for a second. "I remember coming in though. Beyond that, I can't recall anything."
He speaks with a curious sense of dispassion. The relief of his memory hadn't actually entered his mind. The odd feeling of disquiet in his stomach made him question his earlier conclusion. "Maybe that was before they moved me? There was supposed to be more of us." He added.
Something in Yomikawa's head clicked. It took her a second to realize what it was. "There's more place similar to yours?" The boy nods. "Where?!" She exclaimed, her eyes widening as she took in the last bit of information.
The boy flinched, but didn't seem to mind it. "I don't know. All I know is that there's more of us there. That's all I know." He sounded casual, but Yomikawa could see that it worried him.
"How much?!"
He shrugged. "50...? Could be more."
This is worse than she had anticipated. Her brain has been blanked out except for a single thought. This is but a confirmation that her worst fear has come true.
"Fuck." She cursed, getting up from the chair. She softens her facial features for the boy. "It's been nice talking to you. I'll see if we can talk again tomorrow." She heads for the door, giving him a weak smile as she does.
She closed the door behind her. A familiar face came into view just as she had turned. The doctor is tailing behind her favourite subordinate. "Come, there's an important matter at hand." Her voice is authoritative.
"But we just got here."
"Well, perfect timing." Tsuzuri groaned as she was again grabbed by the wrist, led out of the hospital.
The boy sat in the silent room, bored out of his mind. 'She's nice.'
New Chapter Next Tuesday!