REBEL CLOTHES ✓

EXTERIOR WORLD

"Are you ready?" Spooks asked, pulling off his bright yellow rubber gloves and setting them on the makeshift table beside him.

Tyler was lying on the cold rock floor of the cave, completely naked except for a blanket that covered his body. Spooks told him that exposure leads to vulnerability, which will help him unlock all the memories that he was missing.

"As ready as I'll ever be," Tyler responded, feeling Josh squeeze his hand as a sign that he was there for him. "Is it going to hurt?"

Spooks sat cross legged above Tyler's head, his hand hovering over his temples. "Not a lot, unless you fight back. That's now what worries me."

"Then what is worrying you?" Josh asked.

"If someone is controlling Tyler and it's an Empath, then that means someone is using him as a lens into our group," he explained. "Even if they're not and they have him as a dormant sleeper cell, just to have an unbroken mental connection this stable for so long... I think we're dealing with Keons."

"Keons? Why him?"

"Vetomo specializes in input of emotions and thoughts, not control. If this was the work of your old Bishop, Tyler would have been reprogrammed into killing. He wouldn't be slowly losing control of his body and mind."

"I'm losing my mind?" Tyler was already regretting this decision to let Spooks poke around his head.

Spooks shot him a reassuring smile, but he could see the worry in his eyes. Maybe those visions affected him more than he was letting on. "Don't worry, buddy. It takes years to reach psychosis. I won't let that happen. We're going to fix you up in no time."

He motioned for Josh go back up, and he did.

"Take a deep breath, Tyler. And whatever you do, don't break the connection."

The moment his fingers brushed against Tyler's temples, everything went dark.

A cold prickling, feeling engulfed his body, and he woke up on a marble floor, thick red ropes around his wrists. Despite not knowing what it would look like, Tyler somehow knew he was in the Church.

Dead center in the middle of Dema was the Church where the Bishops spent the most time. They all controlled a part of Dema, but that building was where that power intersected. Nobody except the Bishops were allowed inside. Yet Tyler started at the ceiling, his vision blotchy but clear enough to see the chandelier of Vials hanging above him.

A crown of silver barbed wire wrapped around his head, biting into his skin just enough to be uncomfortable. A large vulture sat on his chest, its claws poking uncomfortably into his skin.

Tyler yanked at the ropes, trying to free himself. At his sudden movements, vulture's claws dig into his chest, scratching at his ribcage. He jerked, screaming for help, and the black, looming bird screamed back. Blood dropped from its crooked beak, the yellow of its beady eyes making him ache for Josh.

"I see you're awake."

A figure made its way into his line of vision, their red cloak discarded to reveal an old, thin man with white hair and black hands. He stopped at Tyler's side, placing one hand on the vulture's head.

"There, there, Clifford. No need to hurt our guest," he cooed. The vulture squawked in response and flapped its wings, propping itself on the Bishop's shoulder.

"Wh-where am I?" Tyler asked, his mouth moving without him meaning to. He stared at the ceiling so he didn't look at the Bishop. "What are you doing to me? Where's Josh?"

"Josh is gone. He left you behind."

A cold rushes went through his body. "He wouldn't."

"He did. But aren't you glad? That means you don't have to leave your home," the Bishop said.

Tyler gulped for air. "This isn't my home. It never was."

"It was and it is. Maybe I need to convince you some more."

The Bishop grabbed Tyler's face with his slender, body fingers, his nails digging into the hollows of his cheeks. He turned Tyler's head. When he did that, Tyler caught a glimpse of rows and rows of slanted glowing Vials reaching all the way to the marble double doors.

It was the graves of the people who disappeared.

He remembered Josh telling him that those who died were buried within the Church. That was how the Bishops kept the illusion of nobody dying. No body, no death. They're all alive and well in the Church, they claimed. But everyone died eventually. Tyler knew that now.

The one closest to him on his right had a name written up the side of the white glass tube. Tyler tilted his head some more, his heart stopping the moment he was able to decipher what it said.

Jay Joseph.

"No!" Tyler screamed. He jerked against the ropes, feeling them constrict and burn around his bare skin. The Bishop let go and grabbed the sides of Tyler's head. Images were singed unto his mind like burning matches following lines of gunpowder.

There was an overview of Trench from the perspective of the Eastern Tower, the ever present of hills and valleys that Tyler had been gazing at for his whole life. A drawing of a compass, with an E's long middle line, scratched into the bottom of a wooden bed with bloody fingernails. A birdcage empty except for a single black feather hanging from a string. A meadow at midnight with lines of Vial gravestones, going out one by one.

A dark green jacket with stripes of yellow on the shoulders tossed into a fire, the fabric causing a flicker of bright blue flames to rise before the fire died in a flash.

A cave of tunnels underneath the Eastern Tower, with a group of young Banditos trapped by a large, looming shadow. The oldest holds a torch out in front of them, letting the others get away. A Bishop grabs them, and then they're gone, like the extinguished flame of their torch.

A bush full of red carnations. Bodies hanging from the trees of Trench. The ravine, blood mixing in with the cold saltwater. The backside of a vulture. A wooden box full of decaying yellow flowers. The same statue that sat in front of Tyler's house, a woman with her head raised and arms above her head. Fireflies rising from the tall grass and into the starry night sky above.

The outside of Dema's walls. Yellow petals falling from the sky, making the air smell sweet. Black birds flying in a chaotic bundle, their screeching louder than Tyler can bear.

The mountains, with small fires lit around. They were Bandito camps.

A door. It was open.

Then, there was nothing but darkness.