Can't Say

Chapter 24

      By noon, a total of three sparring rounds had been completed. The score was 2-to-1, and Sexual-Offenderman’s Proxies were in the lead. There was no doubt that the opposing Proxies were a good team. Even if you and Passenger were new, the odds were against your favor. Masky, Hoodie, and Toby seemed indifferent about your influence to the scores, though you were blaming yourself. At least you couldn’t blame your lack of focus on your broken nose anymore. It had stopped bleeding shortly after the first round, now only swollen and tender. Slenderman noted that he would tend to your nose when the day was over. “It’s best that you learn to endure such injuries for when the real missions occur,” he explained. Despite your urge to roll your eyes in frustration from the pain, you knew he was right. Darn him.
      Everyone stopped for a lunch break, which you were thankful for. At least you could relax for a short while. The throbbing pain in your face was beginning to make you irritable, but you held your tongue to a lot of things. 
      Lunch was held in the motel kitchen, which was much less homely than the mansion’s. In fact, this kitchen resembled a restaurant’s design; tiled flooring, silvery metal counters and equipment, heavy-duty stoves. This place was made to feed large amounts of people. The only thing unimpressive about the kitchen was how – cheap – most of the kitchenware looked. Everything looked analog and flimsy. Not to mention that a lot seemed worn down.
      In the center of the kitchen was a prep-table. Its metallic surface adorned numerous scrapes and chips, dulling the once gleaming face. This table had served the motel for a long time. Surely, if it could speak, there would be many stories to tell.
      As you finished studying the layout of the room, your attention was redirected to the people around you. You had been seeing it here and there; the friendly attitudes that the Proxies shared between each other, despite their difference in masters. While there were rarely any manners shared, you did notice the light-hearted banter and teasing that had your mind swirling with confusion. Your nerves wanted to relax, but Slenderman’s warnings echoed within the confines of your memory. He had warned you that the life of a Proxy would be dangerous and full of hardships. He warned you of the roughhousing and coldness from other beings. Yet, here you were, still witnessing the decency that you had prepared your heart to never experience again.
      “That is not friendship that you see,” your master’s low voice broke your train of thought. You could sense his looming presence close behind you. “They merely respect each other. They know that without the other, life becomes more difficult.”
      You were standing in one of the two doorways to the kitchen, away from the others as you had watched from afar. You turned and craned your neck to confirm that Slenderman was standing behind you. When you caught sight of his crimson tie and abysmal black suit, you turned your gaze back to the other Proxies, “I’m pretty sure they don’t respect me; which means I’m useless.”
      A low chuckle echoed from deep within Slenderman’s chest. “If you were useless, you would be dead.” That sinking feeling within burned hard. As long as you could prove your worth to Slenderman, then you wouldn’t become target-practice for the other Creepypastas. “I’ve seen your potential,” your master stated, amused by your fear, “but you must prove it to the others.”
      “But,” you knitted your brows in thought, “weren’t they involved in my trials? They would’ve seen my potential then, too.”
      Bending down to level his head with your own, Slenderman held his lacking face inches away. He placed a single index finger into the center of your forehead. As he physically suggested the act of whispering into your ear, your master spoke with a smirk in his knowing voice, “They don’t see what I see.”
      After satisfying hunger and cleaning most of the old blood off of your face, the kitchen was cleaned, ammo was gathered, and the sparring resumed. Eight more challenging rounds filled the afternoon. By the end of it all, Slenderman’s team only won two more rounds, while Smexy’s team acquired six further victories. You were certain the losses were on your account. There were several times that you either completely didn’t hear or couldn’t understand your master’s announcements. Your team had tried to spread out more, using various tactics, so there were times that you were alone. Without crucial information, you weren’t aware of downed teammates or their temporary handicaps. Some of the sparring rounds were lost because of that.
      Still, you’re team seemed to not blame you for those mistakes. If they did, then they weren’t verbal about it. Most likely, they had suffered the same during their early days of Proxiship. This attunement with Slenderman was a timely process.
      The dimming light of dusk set in. After gathering equipment and used ammo for the last time, Slenderman and his snide brother said their farewells. All of the Proxies were battered and bruised. To them, this had been a successful match. They traded words of parting and handshakes, encouraging the other to improve their skills. You tried to do the same. Isikam Isiko, Neela, and Passenger were friendly enough as they praised you for your efforts. Neela openly critiqued your hand-to-hand techniques, giving helpful information. Fuck Boi, as you quickly learned throughout the day, continued to try coaxing you into his lustful arms. You quickly denied with a thick, awkward air.
      “You know,” Sexual-Offenderman caught everyone’s attention, though he was seeking your master’s, “it wouldn’t be a bad idea if ____ and Passenger switched up and spent the night – to get to know the other Proxies better.” His devilish grin was contagious to John. There was no denying that those two were up to no good.
      “Absolutely not,” Slenderman interjected before his brother could make any further suggestions. “They are no longer children, despite Kitteh’s views upon them.” Something told you that wasn’t his true reasoning for denying Smexy’s request.
      With that said, your master extended his tendrils and made contact with all four of his Proxies. A startling yank of your body being pressed against Slenderman’s side forced a tiny yelp to escape you. All the while, the tall, suited being glared down Sexual-Offenderman with a protective energy. In an instant, your surroundings were replaced by the mansion foyer. Slenderman quickly released his tight grip around your upper body, not once hesitating to storm off down a dark hall. You and your fellow Proxies were left to your own devices.
      Hoodie and Masky exchanged glances. Toby tiredly headed to the weapons room, muttering something about how he needed to go watch something burn. He was soon followed by the prior two men and yourself, though you stared after them for a short moment, lost in wonderment on whether or not they had noticed what Slenderman had done.