Agent 38: In The Making

Chapter 9: Nightmares and Hallucinations

(This is Eight writing in a journal that Iso Padre gave her)
     Day 52:
     I found the third thang around five days ago. Then again, one can't be sure how many days have passed, since there is no sunlight, no clock, nothing to give off the clue that there is such a thing as day and night, dawn and dusk, morning and evening. I myself rely on the bits of sleep that I get around a certain time- usually, I end up falling asleep after I've done five or six tests, so the rate of my pace is rather sped up. I hardly get any sleep, so I consider it a luxury when I end up having dreams that I can remember when I wake.
     However, the day I found the third thang, I saw something rather... unsettling. There were scattered pieces of shattered glass around the telephone, which seemed rather peculiar. As I entered the train, I saw what might've been a gaping hole in the ceiling, before it was quickly patched up by someone and then looked normal again.
     Something even more frightening, though, was that I heard screaming from a familiar voice... and it seemed to be coming from above the ceiling, hinting at the fact that the surface may be closer than I originally thought. However, due to the major lack of sleep I've been getting, I suspect I may be hallucinating. A frightening thought is what it is, though it could all be cured if I got some sleep.
     However, one simply cannot get sleep if both her mind and soul refuse to peacefully slumber for more than an hour. So, I feel I am doomed to fail lest I find the final thang sooner rather than later.
     On the topic of finding thangs... I am a fast worker, meaning I've cleared three more lines in my desperation of getting to the surface. I have a clear, straight path to the fourth and final thang... but I fear there may be more to these trials than meets the eye. The thangs seem to be part of something, though I cannot yet think of what. I feel as though the Captain's nerves are finally getting to me, for I, too, am beginning to wonder what became of Agent 3, and whether the boy is still alive or not.
     I fear leaving the Metro, mostly because I think Iso Padre might not live through that. He seems relatively fine, as he has survived all this time without his young squire, but I feel as though we have a connection. I know not if I had a father in my past life... but Iso Padre certainly seems like a father figure. I wonder if he feels the same way towards me...
     Ha, look at me, rambling on. I suppose I should get to the point of why I started writing in the first place...
     My memories are finally beginning to come back. Little bits and pieces of them. Not much of my past, but more... recent. For example, I remember the Calamari Inkantation.
     I remember hearing it while Agent 3 was in a duel with DJ Octavio. I remember sitting in a row, next to Marina Ida, listening in fascination as the heavenly melody rung through my ears and opened my eyes. I remember gently removing the goggles and staring in awe, tears rolling down my cheeks, as I realized the evil crimes I'd committed all my 16 years of life. So many lives lost under the tip of my Octo Shot. I regret it all, yet I still regret leaving so... unceremoniously, without warning. I left my one and only friend, who'd been with me through it all.
     I wonder where she's gone...
     Agent 8 slammed the journal shut, biting her lip to avoid tears. All the horrid things she'd done... It weighed down on her like tons of bricks. She leaned against the wall, sank to the floor, and sighed. Agent 8 had her own little private area at the back of the train car, where she was mostly free to do what she wanted. Eight spent most of her spare time there, either that or chatting with Iso Padre or the Cap'n, who kept marveling about how soothing her voice was, and how he'd really never heard her talk before.
     Really, it was the tests keeping her from boredom. Whenever she had alone time, she scrolled through the same Inkopolis Square magazine, which got a bit boring after a certain amount of time. And when she didn't want to read the magazine, she either scavenged around the train for food or cleaned and checked her Octo Shot. And when she didn't want to do either of those things, she tried to sleep, which worked sometimes, but most of the time it didn't. So, by the end of the week, she had slightly deep bags under her eyes, bruises and cuts caked across her skin, and didn't feel any better than she had the day before. Or the day before that. Or the week before that.
     And she really was beginning to hallucinate.
     Every once in a while, imaginary flying octopi or squids floated around through her vision, followed by sanitized Octarians hunting for her. Really, the hallucinations were of the things she feared most. And when she slept, all she had was nightmares. So, basically, her current life was a waking nightmare. And a sleeping nightmare, too.
     The train whirred and pounded as she quietly walked over to Cuttlefish, who was fiddling about on his old style telephone. Eight stopped next to him and gently nudged his shoulder, grabbing his attention.
     "What's up, Agent 8?" He asked, politely putting the phone down. She tucked a tentacle behind her flat ear and opened her mouth to speak.
     "I was just wondering," She answered. "If you could tell me a bit about the surface?"
     Cuttlefish smiled, and, without hesitation, nodded. "Of course. What would you like to know?"
     "Well... How did the Squidbeak Splatoon get it's first Agent?" Eight asked, sitting down in front of him like a little child asking for a story. She crossed her legs and gazed up at him eagerly. He chuckled.
     "Well, you see..." Cuttlefish said. "Agent 1 happens to be my granddaughter, Callie. I trained her in the ways of combat and put her up against a few enemy Octarians, and she eventually got the flow of it. Then, Agent 1 recruited her cousin, Marie, as Agent 2. I put Marie through the same training as I did Callie, so they were both very well trained. But then... they had their careers to think of, and started drifting away from their duties. So, when they were too busy with work, a huge catfish-like creature that we Inklings call the Great Zapfish, was stolen from right under my nose. And the Great Zapfish's offspring, the Zapfish, were also stolen.
     "Me, being an old man," Cuttlefish continued. "I wasn't able to go and get all the Zapfish, let alone the Great Zapfish, by myself. So, I started looking for an Agent 3. And on one fateful day, I saw him. An Inkling boy that looked determined and up to the test. See, the way to Octo Canyon is through a sewer grate. So, I stuck my head out of it, waited until he spotted me, and when he got close, I closed the grate and went back to the Canyon. Luckily, he jumped in after me, and swam into Octo Canyon, where I was waiting. I gave him a rundown of how the Octarians stole the Zapfish and all that, and he happily agreed to help.
     "Agent 3 was stronger, faster, and more determined than Agents 1 and 2 combined. However, he also had the darkest past. I figure that that is something he should tell you on his own once we find him, so I'll spare you the details."
     "The Octarians sound awful..." Eight murmured. "It's weird to say that, because I'm an Octoling, but they really do sound horrible."
     "They are. I mean, no offense." He said.
     "None taken."
     "Anyway," Cap'n cleared his throat. "Where was I? Ah, yes, Agent 3. You see, he sped through the kettles so quickly that I didn't have the time to give all the Zapfish to Inkopolis Plaza and also come up with a lie to tell them. See, the Squidbeak Splatoon is built on secrecy, meaning we don't tell anyone who we are or what we do. To everyone, we look like ordinary people. That's just because they don't know."
     The old squid proceeded to tell her about Inkopolis Square, how Inkopolis Plaza was the first huge hangout place, about how Agent 3 defeated DJ Octavio and saved the world, and how there was now an Agent 4 because the Great Zapfish and it's offsprings had been stolen once again, except two years later this time.
     It was wonderful, and she sat through it with wide, intrigued eyes. Eventually, her eyelids started to droop, and she walked back to her little corner. As she layed down on the hard floor, she closed her eyes and drifted into a deep, nightmareless sleep.
     And, for once in a long time, she dreamt.

Sorry that this chapter came out a little slow. Hope you enjoyed it, though!
(Hehe me is poet) Chapter 10, coming soon!
Word count: 1572