DECEMBER JANE

Kate: A cigarette for the thoughts

I walked back from an assignment, sweaty as hell and splashed with a bit of blood, as per usual. I hated this sweatshirt, man. White? As a proxy? I know Slendy is my boss and all, but why did he let me pick white? Why'd he let me and Jeff pick white, for crying out loud?

Anywho, Mega Man only has me do assignments every week or so, mostly when it's one the other guys hadn't caught. Masky cannot run for shit (not sorry) and Tobias' tics distract him, so Hoodie is literally the only other 'second option' when he's not blacked out or wasted. Even then, he's usually on a main mission anyways. I wasn't mad I got the short end of the job. I had never been assigned to kill a close friend. Not that I cared, but there are some people I would rather die than be assigned after. I did have to kill a friend from my old high school once-- though we really didn't know each other all too well, so it didn't totally matter to me. In the end, if I don't have a photo of them in my stupid beaten-up wallet, then it wasn't worth resisting.

On the way back to the old trailer, I passed a maskless Masky smoking against the outer wall. I could smell the smoke from a mile away, so it was safe to assume he was already done with half a pack.

"Yo. Big T. Chill on the nic, dude."

He hacked a loogie and spat on the ground. "I'll quit when I'm dead," he sneered. "How'd your assignment go?"

"Easy as hell."

He held out the pack he smoked in offering. I slid my mask onto my head and fished one out of the box, letting him light it while it rested in my teeth.

"What're your smoking thoughts today, Big T?"

He shoved his lighter back into his jacket pocket. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?"

He shook his head. "I'd get myself killed."

I shrugged. "Oh, well. It can't be worse than anything I've done."

He sighed and pinched his nose bridge. "I dropped off some girl at Smiley's about a year ago. One that Tobias insisted on leaving with him."

"Why the hell would you listen to Toby?"

"I have no idea," he mumbled. "But apparently, she's alive."

"Oh, dude, you're fucked."

"I know."

I took a hit from my cigarette. "So why is she alive?" I asked. Masky shook his head. "Smiley wanted to use her. He said he knew something was different about her."

"Isn't that what he said about the last chick he took in?"

"Yep."

"What a horny psycho. Twice already?"

"That's what I'm saying." He shook his head. "Poor Ann. I can't imagine what she puts up with."

"Do you know anything about this girl?"

"Half of her is severely burnt," he said. "That's all I remember."

All the blood rushed from my face. That girl named December from a few days ago came to mind immediately. It made sense; she was headed right toward the hospital.

"Holy shit."

Masky tilted his head. "What?"

"I saw her. T, I know where she is."

He pushed himself from the wall, tense and wide-eyed. "We can kill her. We're safe." He started to laugh. "Holy shit, Kate, you did it!"

I stared at him, conflicted. He stopped. "What's wrong?" he asked. I shook my head. "I shouldn't have said anything," I muttered.

"What do you mean?"

"Toby was right. Something is different about her."

"You can't be serious." He looked me up and down. "You're not going to help me?!"

"She collected the pages when I found her. She was totally unmarked. Unfazed. Half of her body is rebuilt. She's gotta be something insane. Smiley might--"

Masky lunged forward, grabbing the shoulders of my sweatshirt and slamming me against the side of the trailer. My head banged against it, shooting pain down my back. I yelped. Masky stared at me, eyes filled with rage.

"Listen to me, you little shit," he hissed. "You're going to help me find her. Give me something. Save my ass, or I'll finish yours."

I shook against his grip. Never in my time working with him had I seen him this angry. "Why do you care?" I asked meekly.

He pushed me harder against the trailer. "Give. Me. A. Name."

I shook my head. He pulled me back and slammed me again.

"GIVE ME A GODDAMN NAME!"

My chest let go of a few sobs, tears threatening to fall from my eyes. "She's probably one of us," I choked.

"GIVE ME A NAME OR I'll FUCKING--"

"DECEMBER!" I screamed. "HER NAME IS DECEMBER!"

He let go of me, letting my body crash to the ground. His hands are lightly stained from the old blood on my sweatshirt. "There," he growled. "Was that so difficult?"

I couldn't do much else but hold myself back from crying.

Hoodie emerged from the trailer and started to question Masky about the banging from the trailer walls. Masky walked inside with Hoodie, probably to discuss things with him about December.

I wiped my face off with my arm. The only scents in my nose were cigarettes and mud.

No. I was done being picked on, pushed around, ignored.

I needed to find December. I needed to warn her.