Empty: Book 1

23 : Arrows

JOAS

Endless running, endless thinking. Dark asylum hall strangely judging what I have become after being born as a normal being; died to be another and almost died again due to one's jealousy. Why in the hell did I mistake everything for childhood amnesia? The child nevertheless survived, for a new purpose, a new reason, a new plan. All for the victims of his own choices and the misery of his introspection. The Empty Heads, the Unalives, the Undead, his friends, and his loving protector.

It's no surprise. She and I were in the shadow of two different lies with the samely different aim and differently same endings. She wanted to live back then, and I hated it. Because she doesn't understand. Now that I wanted to live, she hated it. Still, she doesn't understand. And here I vow, to help her understand as it was her existence after all, that gained me to purely understand this.

Though I'm mindful I was too far from her helpless hand to be reached at this point, my eager feet kept on running at the slippery hall with my longing eyes persisting to seek even at the most hidden junctions. Until the fatigue dissolved my strength, a familiar unwanted voice moderated,

"Hey, hey, here is the exit," said the woman, so I turned around to criticize.

The woman. I've seen her before. She's the mentally challenged nurse who threw me in a loop at step one to intently meet me to this ending. Is the trap not yet closed? I'm guessing she's expecting to be paid off.

"...I thought I should've thanked you back there, then I remember what I fucking did just to save you, god. I'm not crazy, okay? just helpful" Her present identity is a different form of facade compared to the first one she had proudly displayed. If not for the swollen punch marks on her face, I'd suspect she's a twin. Uncertain I furrow.

Behind her was another familiar figure who popped out to be noticed, I turned to see Mikol who equally owned the sign of being physically abused leaving him packed with bandages to adhere his face together. He helped Pana, or he didn't. I see only two reasons why, "She's Eula, Eula Agora, my friend who has also been a victim of Thomas, the nurse one I'm telling you. We saw what you did! You're a fucking weapon!" he introduced and unfolded, mouth wet with revivified purpose.

"We know what you want" she thirstily pronounced.

The answer is here now, in their SUV being driven by me, them as my hostage, my new sacrificial friends for new experiences. It has not something to do with trust, I can't trust myself either. It's an advantage of claiming and reducing enemies at the same time, in a kinder constitution.

"Alright, alright. Keep suspecting the wrong guy which is me. Suspect the only reason why Pana found you in this secluded haunted asylum by himself, bleeding. What a gratitude! Bullshit!" Mikol's dirty glare met mine in the concave mirror's view, and the confrontation he's initiating disappointingly erupted while he's leaning close from the backseat to closely complain. While I'm not appreciating this female creature's decision to be on my shotgun seat to supplement with some irritation.

"Why would I suspect your weakness for letting her charge alone? who told you that?" intending to hide the sarcasm but revealed by my insulting smirk's appearance. His tragedy, I'm still wishing he wasn't worth it.

"Your sister did this to me out of craziness! I've been willing to help her, I'm always on your side" he retorted with a constipated look forming in a layer of his traumatized deception. I can't wait to chuckle and hear my partner's strategy.

"Oh, man. She did that to you?!" this Eula person exclaimed to her match, reacting with a circular mouth and circular eyes before her head swiveled towards mine, "...oh my god. How old is your sister?"