In White Robes

Chapter 15 - Cut the Strings

I curled up against the chilly wall, looking at all the guns pointed at my face and the open door and Koko, standing there before the squad of Concealed. His gray eyes locked onto me, glowing like two moons, dead up in the sky.

Tabby clung to my arm again, holding himself away from the danger and toward "all he had left." Me. It was sad seeing him so scared, so afraid. Tears welled in his eyes. He was sniffling, and eventually started pressing his face into my chest. Again acting like a little kid, scared of the monsters in the closet.

Koko reached out to grab Tabby's arm, and was taken aback when Tabby whipped around to land a heavy slap on Koko's arm. The Puppet jerked backward a little.

"Don't touch me!" Tabby cried, filling the room with his desperation. He went back to melting into me, crying into my chest. I hugged him tight now, suddenly only thinking of his safety and not mine. Koko was scanning the two of us silently, not touching us but I saw the cold anger behind his eyes. The hate.

He hated how I cradled Tabby in my arms, how I held Tabby away from him.

"I don't care how many guns you have pointing at me," I said, staring around at the Concealed and their combative stances, "I'll always hold him. I'm not letting you hurt anyone else." Tabby huddled into me harder, warmer.

Koko bent to his knees, meeting eye-level with me.

"That is the point of your captivity," he said. "Sooner or later, you will be killed. That is what Master Larson has ordered of you." My face had gone pale. "I thought you would have seen it, since you so easily escaped your room together. I thought you would have noticed the Slaughter Room."

The . . . what?

The idea of a Slaughter Room sounded impossible here, but at the same time slightly scary. Possible. What exactly had I missed out there? What room were we supposed to look into?

As if reading my mind, Koko added, "It would not have been a pretty sight. Perhaps you are better off not knowing the contents of that room. Many of the others have already died. It's not like you are preventing anything."

"What did you just say?" I leaned forward, still clenching Tabby's body to my chest.

Koko blinked slowly. "Most of them are dead. The facility is nearly empty. Your numbers are thinning. Quite literally." And all I could think was, we're next. He looked calmly at Tabby's sobbing face, still buried in me. "It would not make a difference if we were to shoot your friend here. You will all die at some point. And Master will bring in a new batch to murder for sport."

"Let me speak to him," I said quickly. "Let me meet with Master Larson before I'm killed."

Koko stared at me, considering it, or at least I hoped he was. Seeing Larson one more time and strangling the answers free from his mouth would be exactly how I wanted to go out. If I was going to die, I was going to die with every answer embedded in my mind. Every thought released from my head.

And if I was lucky enough, the death of Larson would be the cherry on top.

Koko waved at the Concealed, a gesture I did not understand until they all lowered their weapons, and then he stood up straight again.

"You may see the Master one more time," he said, "but be quick."

****

Tabby and I were taken back to the Devil's office. The room was still tidy, painted dark and filled in with shelves of books and paper and pens and a small gasoline tank beneath those shelves. Outside, the line of Concealed awaited any potential emergency to break out inside, guns in-hand. Koko stood at the back of the room as I held Tabby close to me, standing on one side of Larson's desk, and Larson stood at the other.

"Your eyes," he said to me in such a calm tone that made me wonder, wholeheartedly, how he was able to stand idly by as we were not only held captive, but slaughtered.

"What about them?" I snapped. "You knew this would happen. Don't act surprised." Larson looked at Koko, who patiently waited behind us by the door. The two of them shared a tense gaze for a few moments.

"I would like you to leave for now, Koko," said Larson. The Puppet stood in shock at his Master's orders, visibly reluctant to go out that door and leave just the three of us in here alone. Just us, where Larson would be in grave danger.

"With all due respect, that is not a wise idea, Master. I promise you they are not here to have a civil conversation." Koko did not move. Neither of them spoke after that for a while. Larson only stared at his breathing Puppet, glaring into his gray eyes with force, until finally Koko gave a nod and slipped through the door.

Larson faced Tabby and I once more.

"I've always been a manipulator of the impossible," said he, "I was always able to fix things, break things, lose things, find things. Both of you mean a great deal to me, you must understand." I felt Tabby peel his head away from my chest and look toward Larson, dried tears on his face.

"Then why are we here?" Tabby whispered. "We mean a lot to you, but you're killing us for fun."

"And you never give up any answers," I cut in swiftly, stepping closer to the desk so that I was pressing against it. "You always have your Puppet do everything for you. How much of a coward are you? You can't even act on your own. You just hide away in this little room as everything else unfolds outside the door."

Larson's head fell to his chest, and I thought that maybe he was feeling guilty. That maybe he was realizing his mistakes and he would stop his insane talk and fix things, just like he said he could.

"Those words, coming from you especially, Kay--they hurt. Very much." He lifted his head back up, eyes pointed at the door, and then he yelled: "Koko!" Almost instantly, the Puppet came back in.

Summoned again by his Master, Koko readily came to Larson's side, standing and waiting for orders. Waiting to be a messenger, the stand-in for this man who was not capable of achieving anything on his own.

"You're right, Kay," Larson began saying without looking at me, but at his desk in which he was reaching down into, "I do hide. I can't act on my own. You're right. But I did say I was a fixer." He pulled something shiny up from a compartment in the desk. Something dangerous. A pistol. 

Larson was looking at me now. My face had gone completely cold. I thought he would raise the gun and plant a bullet in between my eyes, but suddenly he was looking at Koko.

"I fix things," he said. A brief instance of fear, of awareness, flashed in Koko's eyes. He took a brisk step backward. Larson continued: "I have no need for a Puppet." One gunshot rang out in the room. A quick burst of orange painted the air. 

And looking at him now, I could tell he was gone. The Puppet was gone.

Koko now had a leaking hole in his forehead, and black blood splashed the walls.