Happy Freaking Birthday: Part Six.

Mystery told me about her encounter with Wildman, Victor, and the Executor. I was glad to see her unharmed and hear that Shadowchild too was well. It meant a lot to know she came all this way then to try and find me, even after everything at home. Listening to her was a comfort all its own, to be able to hear a voice I trusted. So few there are I can say such to. My hands stopped their nervous shaking, calmed; we switched to discussing plans on what we were to do. It was chosen this place would be our "bat lair", or base of operations. I nearly cackled, sarcastically, at how long it was going to take to get this place up and running. Working out a power source especially, solar perhaps? Checking out the floors beams and the likes would be wise to help secure the levels. On top of that a ladder or rope ladder would work on the trees that have grown tall within the building itself. The roof was nearly gone which provided enough life during the day and a decent amount during the night, so I found out that evening. The third level was pretty much non-existent, the second floor was together a fair amount. Those are pretty much the basics of what I'd like to see done immediately. Mystery knows this, and has her own say. Either way, it's a project I look forward to working on... After I get some sleep and fixed up.

This place is amazing, though. Better than the fort I found a while back. Not to mention it was within walking distance as well, figuring out the fastest route via map would be simple enough. Walking the terrain once the leg was a bit better would help too. I walked the perimeter outside already a few times, glancing out into the woods surrounding the building. Vaguely wondering how near Prosper was willing to get, I could see the disturbing mask within my mind peering through the trees to my position. Paranoia, I had control over my own, tamed it well and would have to again now that I have lost some control of it. One more glance and I decided it would be alright, Mystery's method of being warned should do well enough should Prosper want to play up close.

I went back into our sanctuary and slid down the slope in the floor to where Sunshine was. Chained in the chains taken from the garage, ones my father used to use when working or found on this old farmland. Shackles were my finding and I snatched them as well before we came here. Useful they are, we would have to see when he woke up, though.

I eased myself at the bottom of the slope and looked to his form laying curled on his side. This man I knew to be vicious, that committed criminal acts during my times of rest and taunted me with personal tokens when awake now laid sleeping. His chest puffing and deflating slowly within his deep sleep. A filthy and lightly scarred face retaining some boyish similarities like from the childhood memories.

Kill him before he kills you.

I thinned my gaze upon his figure; he was completely unaware of these thoughts.

Kill him, for everything he's done. Can do. It nagged at me strongly, the simplicity of just snapping his neck.

He tried to kill you as a child.

He betrayed you already.

Wasn't that just because I couldn't save him? I bit back with doubt.

You were a child, what could you have done?

Puffed out your lower lip and hope He'd return the boy?

...

You ran.

You chased.

We failed.

The whys still are sitting there, unknown. Too many holes. Too many variables. I want answers and you won't give them.

Kill him before he kills you.

That is my answer.

I felt a heavy scowl weighing down my lips, like hell I would accept that. I watched as Mr. Sunshine's face contorted into something negative. Did he dream, and if so, does that mean he had nightmares too still? I scooted over closer to examine him and found his body shivering lightly despite the warm night air. Tempted to leave I instead stayed, hesitantly reaching out a hand to pet the shaved dirty blonde head. The shivering began to slow the longer I remained sitting near him, lightly comforting. Maybe there would be more reason to call him Mr. Sunshine, perhaps it wasn't just a sarcastic title given because of the gloomy setting he weaved in his previous visits. Seeing him then I could see the innocence, that of a child trapped beneath years of corruption and suffering. The sun was still peeking through the thick clouds.

Perhaps shit was going to get a bit better. Hell, if he could retain that I still have some hope. Whatever the fuck I am or was may still have hope, for a better tomorrow. I smiled lightly, if not without a tug to the heart strings. I hummed quietly "You Are My Sunshine" the way I grew up with it, refusing to allow the Executor to take such a memory from me. My sleeping companion stilled, calm and I felt as his fingers pinched my tattered pajama bottoms within a light hold. I had a fail voice for singing, but humming at least I got down decently, I guess. Or maybe he just remembered it, eh? Kindred souls we were. He probably remembered and knew more than I of our past. I hoped that when he woke up later there would be no hard feelings about Mystery knocking him one, and if he could speak I damn well prayed he had something to say about what the hell happened all that time ago.

I honestly had no idea whether or not he was a danger. He ripped apart the front of my doppelganger. I would like to think it was because he knew she wasn't the real me, but the paranoia of maybe he was just ready to kill me still comes into play. Does this hinder the fact I am going to protect his life as if it were Mystery's or my kin's, as if it were those I fight for? No. He's just as precious. I've seen a gem covered by coal once before, unable to shine against the rays of the sun. I see Mr. Sunshine and he might be just like that, only he might be finally peeking through the layers of coal. He may have finally begun breaching the surface.

We can only hope he's trying to regain something he lost, the control. I just don't know how I would proceed if his death was the only conclusion. There is this bond, you see, which is so fucking hard to describe... But it is just there. I don't talk about that lover shit, I'm not much of an expert there, heh. I mean, that feeling that you're familiar with something that it becomes this strong connection, you must have it with you. That of a girl who lost her memories, perhaps her mind in the past, and can still feel those connections without any given idea as to why they are there. But they are, and they are strong, and she knows she has to protect them and figure out why... Just why. And maybe then things will be a little better, a little more whole. Then again... No one is ever whole, are they? No one is ever whole until they are dead. But she doesn't need to be whole; she just needs to be close enough, right? I just need to be close enough. So I look to Mr. Sunshine and feel this connection, from a friendship that was strong enough to withstand a jump in time with him first taken to when he tried to drown me. And I think... Hell dude, if you die on me I'm going to be sad, but I'm not going to quit moving forward. But I would have to go through this entire thing feeling hollow and vacant, and that wouldn't get me very far. It wouldn't get me far at all. So... I'm going to protect him, even if others think I'm crazy, even if he is vicious still when he wakes up. It's not going to be easy but that's fine, I don't like easy. I don't need to feel like a winner in a world you literally can't win in.

So for the night I stayed, ended up falling asleep back against the slope because I sure as hell still wasn't going to nearby him in a state of vulnerability. Variables, my friends, too many. Mystery came round in the morning and shooed me home, I cleaned up and returned with food and a sketch pad to figure out what the hell kind of changes we were going to start making. Sunshine was still out, which was good. I think he was entitled to a rest within a safe environment.

Here is to meeting in the flesh a woman I consider kin, and here is to reuniting with a friend I can barely remember. To keeping him safe and the rest of our asses. Honestly, I think shit is just getting started. So... Leg, body in general, heal up fast because if you think that road getting here was bumpy you've got another thing coming, heh.

Stay safe, darlings,

-Shady

If she wants to walk into hell let her.

She may have forgotten but we remember.

We remember everything.

Happy Freaking Birthday: Part Four.

"This place looks like shit." Were the first words that came out of my mouth. Hands on my hips I gazed around the place that was to be our base. Let me explain what I meant... The broken down mansion covered in green, completely overgrown, was fucking amazing but ultimately a mess. I stopped my leg from bouncing where I stood and turned back to Mystery with a scowl, "If you expect me to do all the slave work on this shoddy place you'll get my boot up your ass."

The woman opened the trunk and pulled out the wheelbarrow, "I'm don't. Mind giving me a hand?"

I shot a suspicious look back to the mansion before heading back to the car and opening the backseat door. Mr. Sunshine laid on his side, arms and legs off the seat. He was tattered, dry blood staining the dark sweatshirt and jeans, his hands bare were just covered in faded red. His mask was on his person, but off his face. As well, the hood he wore which had black see through fabic to hide the masked face, was also pulled off from earlier. Crappy stitching makes me think he did it himself. We pulled up the wheelbarrow to the door and I went around to the other side, Mystery (being a giant compared to me) was able to reach over the wheelbarrow and pull his legs while I pushed the fellow's shoulders. Let's just say we managed to get him in with little bruising and only a bit of humiliation on my part... Mystery tugged his legs while I was pushing and I sort of landed awkwardly. Very happy he was unconscious... Very, very happy.

Punched her for laughing so hard.

We wheeled our friend into the building and gave a quick looksee as to where he was going to go, eventually choosing the sunken down part of the house. The kitchen had collapsed into the basement at some point in the past, there was a nice slope that led right down to the dimly lit place. We brought him down there, the lush of green welcoming his body as we pretty much dropped him out of the wheelbarrow. Bound his wrists in some shackles and linked chains to wrap around the base of the tree. Together we secured him in a spot that would surely be of comfort when he woke up. I was hesitant to leave but did so anyways, the two of us had much to speak about during our time of silence.

We went up to the first floor and I sat down, needing to take some weight off my leg finally. Mystery took a seat nearby, the moonlight making her more visible to my curious eyes. She was pale, probably more than me. Her hair was rather curly, tied back within a pony-tail. No makeup, unless you count some minor bruising that was starting to show. I glanced to her shirt which read "Books is good" on it, nearly facepalmed for that not being the first clue to let me know who this was initially. To say I was surprised Mystery was female is only partially true, what bothered me more was the fact I was not informed despite the time spent building such a kinship. My mind reeled over her expression when the axe began down on its path to her skull, I could feel my hands on the verge of shaking.

Breathe.

I took in a deep gulp of air and released it slowly.

Not an enemy.

My eyes remained heavily set upon the woman across from me, I repeated the words within my own head. She was not my enemy. Not the enemy.

"Are you alright, Shady?" I blinked a few times, focusing once more and nodded.

CRACK goes her skull!

We have a winner, folks!

I leaned forward, my good leg pulled up for I could prop my arm against it and rest my forehead within the palm of my hand. My fingers wrapped around my bangs, lightly tugging at the images that continued to nag my thoughts. The axe brought back the knife I used to murder those two proxies with, children of other families lost and gone. Families which brought on the thought of my own, whom I still haven't seen since I've been back. I wondered how they were, if they were even still alive. Fucks sake... Almost two weeks with a fake, one of His, what the hell should I be expecting even?

"Shady." I stopped tugging at my bangs and looked back up at her. "Talk to me. You aren't alone."

I shifted slightly, "Yea." was the only thing muttered for the first minute we began into the conversation. "I'm just... Tired." I could feel my left hand itching to tap, already jittery and flexing on the ground.

"You just spent days with the Executor and his goons. On top of that a week walking back home, tired isn't the only thing."

What the hell was I supposed to tell her? Where did I begin? How did I begin? I fidgeted, this was different. Comforting others was something I was used to but what the hell did I know about it when it was in reverse? "Sorry." Is what came out next, a heavy sigh huffing out.

"You don't have anything to apologize for."

I nipped my lip, really wishing now the rubber bands were still on my wrist so I had something to distract with. "I know. But still."

Just start talking. Take your own advice and just start rambling.

Right. Rambling, I was good at that.

"They came during the night... The Executor, The Advocate, and Proxy 269... Prosper." I began into the retelling. I didn't cry, I didn't shake until the mentioning of Mr. Sunshine. The stay at the place, dark, smelling of hell on Earth. I told her how they had to drag me out, eventually knocking me into an unconscious state. The blurry awakening into unknown territory, strapped down with three shadows surrounding the cold metal table. The violence that ensued between us all. Trying to wretch free from the bindings only to have my skull slammed into the table, the process beginning immediately with the Executor. The mental war raged from that early morning till the afternoon. No intermissions, Advocate slipped into place when the Executor felt finished for that time.

I told her about blacking out and hearing the Caged One screaming for hours as Executor tried to break through the barrier. I explained to how I was awake and aware when the Advocate played his games. With only one thing to go on, one whisper from a forgotten past: The pain is nothing compared to the memories. And while I can't remember fucking much I told her I believed it true. That little reminder and I held onto it when Executor began blinding me from the outside world.

I explained the short hours I had to sleep, how I spent a majority of them just tugging  at the shackles, mind coursing with different plans of escape. And how 269 would be watching through the small slot on the door as I did so. A silent taunt, a silent threat to not even try. I would glare at him for hours as I did so until I fell asleep, only to be woken up by begin dragged back to the room for another round of fighting and pain.

I told her how I would shout at them, "You can't tame me! Can't tame me! Can't tame me!" when the drugs began fucking me over. Twisting in the bindings as I laughed hysterically at them. At the sour expression Executor wore. They tried harder and I adapted, and I laughed through the unwilling cries.

Then there were the memories ripped forth, I told her the sequences seen, everything that was felt. How they tried to use it against me, but they were my memories. Mine. Events I couldn't remember, and everything they tried to add to the memories were all just lies. Pretty little elaborate fucking lies. And I told them, I told them they were being retarded and Executor slapped me hard for it. Leaving me just with the Advocate who had a smile in his breathing and a grin to his words.

I told her of the new ones that came because of my resistance, how I watched them more than I watched 269. How I listened to them when they spoke when the Executor wasn't around. How I learned they were gone, for they were murderers before they came to be His. Of the girl who I killed through the underside of her chin, with a blade found at any kitchen section of a store. Gutting the second backup until he was dead upon the floor, then tangoing with 269 when he nearly broke down the door. The feeling of the knife parting the meat of my leg to scrap against the bone of my thigh. Then to be carried to another room I had yet to see and have my leg wrapped enough to not bleed out. The entire time my upper body chained and then restrained by 269's crushing hold from behind.

Dealing with Mr. Sunshine as a child, when the Executor made the elaborate little pocket inside my head. Where I was imprisoned for what felt like months when it was only nearly a day. Time... It has a cruel sense of humor. I always thought it, but that experience really hammered it into place. He kept me there, opening more time to try and break me within my own head in a setting I thought to be reality. Only when he treaded into the locked away memories, when he pulled forth Mr. Sunshine did all hell break loose. I explained to Mystery the best I could about feeling like I was being pulled, a new weight latching onto me. It was her, the Caged One, and we blended together harmoniously for the first time, or at least from what I can remember. We crumbled his sphere of lies, past and present working as once. But he would not have it, the breaking sphere collapsed upon us and I woke up back within reality. At least, I hoped it was reality for a long time... Questioned it until I made contact with Mystery. I explained how I couldn't remember the moment we blended together, but I just remember we just... Were, there, as one, and I never felt so close to being whole. About how it took time to even remember what the hell happened within that bubble he created.

I told her how Executor showed me Sunshine and I at a younger age, and him trying to drown me within the waters we grew up nearby, for reasons I do not know of yet. How he drowned me in a filthy tub until I was barely conscious before pulling me out and throwing me the ground. How I choked on the disgusting water and he thought kicking me in the mid-section would help. And I felt my eyes grow warm with pent up tears at the confusion and how unbearable it was to not be able to remember a fucking thing. About why someone I was close to would betray me, what led to it, what made me survive it. About the boy I couldn't reach in time to save and how much he must hate me for it.

Every minute spent with the Advocate. Every cut made into my skin, every needle under the nail, every bit of plastic thrown back up after he shoved it down my throat. The sheets of ice melting beneath my skin, the beatings, both verbal and physical. The horrible way he spoke so merrily about us in the room together while performing such criminal acts. The nonchalant way he stood next to the table and played with the blood colored ring he wore, right middle finger. How, unlike the Executor, everything I did and everything I said he took with a grin. Sadist. He took everything, like I did, and tried to reuse it. Only difference was, he liked the abuse. I didn't bother trying to adapt to him, only the pain he delivered did I work against.

And Executor... When he cleared the room the day before, had me face down against the metal table and sat on the side of it. Humming quietly and scolding me while he held a lighter up to a knife, my pocket knife which he had sharpened himself just to add insult to injury. And he heated the blade for minutes on end before leaning down and digging it into my bad shoulder. Carving that fucking well known symbol, making sure it would forever be scarred there. Singing quietly "You Are My Sunshine" all the while, knowing how quickly my blood was turning to poison just by listening to it come from him.

Or when he dug too far into my mind... And I saw him. I told her, I saw him, where he was. How I am going to apply that to finding him someday soon, and make him experience all the shit he's caused to so many.

And the mask... The fucking mask I took with me. How they bound my arms and legs and on the mask during my times of sleeping. Squirming to try and wretch it off my face, cursing and swearing and just fucking screaming. The silence with it on was the worse. And Prosper, he just watched.

The escape... I remember being loosely bound and hearing something scrapping across the floor. Peeling open my eyes to see a key, and when I looked to the door I saw no shoes, no one out there. I grabbed the key and tested it on the shackles, one by one they all unlocked. I moved to the door, stumbling some for I had been mostly dragged or carried from room to room. I tested the key upon the door to be surprised it even worked. The place had a master key and I was holding it. I left, 269 wasn't near. I made my way down some halls, no real idea where I was even going. Found 85 and strangled him from behind till he was unconscious, just a kid... He was just some kid. Fifteen? Maybe a little older. Left him there alive, couldn't go through with it. Moved further, found the exit and unlocked it. 269 found me. Mauled me from the side and smacked the crap out of me, threw me against a wall down the hall. Caught his arm, I remember snapping it back behind him, dislocating it, and then breaking the lower portion of his arm. I shoved him into the wall and took off, breaking out of the torture house and running. He kept coming; he kept chasing me until I couldn't see him. Until I was just free.

I spent the week trekking back home, I told her about sleeping in the woods. How He appeared and left when I threatened my own life. Hiding from 269, who has been appointed my new tormenter it would seem. Tuning into you guys when I rested my leg every few hours, or during the night when it was so hard to sleep. Worrying over Mystery's disappearance and then resorting to breaking into houses for food and to clean up while families were out during the day.

Meeting a Doctor who was helpful, if not slightly off. I barely spoke to him but he offered much assistance. Patching up my wounds were the top priority, I wasn't going to take advantage of anything more. But... He went to the kitchen and I told her how all hell broke loose. I went to see what was happening and the Advocate was there, I couldn't see the Doctor but the way that bastard spoke made it sound like he was alive. It was enough, I attacked him. There was surprise in his body language, in his breathing, that I didn't run in my condition. And I told her how he jumped back, grabbed a chair and threw it at me as a diversion before locking himself where the Doctor was. I could hear him killing the man, I tried to break down the door but it wouldn't budge... The noise just fell silent, and the Advocate was laughing about how he wanted to play more games. I told her... I told her I left, and could hear him screaming after me about how we had to talk on continuing our fun.

Then coming home. To them. To just all of this.

My hands were in my lap by the end of it, one leg curled in, bad leg still straight. I tried to keep my hands together, to stop them from their pattern making. I had enough crazy for one day (or almost two weeks), I didn't need to feel like Monk and House had a baby and I was it.

"I thought he was dead. It hurt so badly... All I wanted was you on the ground with that axe impaled into your neck. And you know what the most fucked up thing is about that? I barely even know why I felt that strongly, heh..." I muttered to her as my hands just locked together tightly, shaking lightly. "Then you on the ground... Your face, your scream... Hearing that felt natural. It felt-" I shrugged, a smile faintly touching my lips but I felt like shit and it was nothing close to being happy. "-so natural. I'm not a good person. Trying to do good, but not a good person. How the hell does that work, Mystery? I've studied this, I've learned, observed, years upon years... I know this stuff so well. So why the hell can't I apply it to myself? What the hell made me this way? I don't... I just don't even know who the fuck I am anymore and it's unbearable."

I rubbed my eyes that were growing warm again, swallowing what wanted to leak out. I didn't want to be seen by anyone. I didn't want any attention drawn to this goddamn vulnerability that was beginning to show. No, I didn't want the world to see me. I didn't care if this was natural to be feeling so shitty after what I just experienced. I don't like not being in control, I don't want my body to shake and feel the need to cry. I'd sort it out later. Story told, I used my free hand to wave her on, to tell her own story. I just didn't want to focus on me anymore. I didn't want to think about it right now. I wanted to hear she was alright, that her condition -which looked much better than my own- was not deceiving me into believing otherwise. As long as she was alright I could bear things better and we could move along in the next phase. So I listened as she told me what happened.

Happy Freaking Birthday: Part One.

I'll start from June 1st and work backwards... Eventually.

----

Once I knew where I was going it was an easy trek. I ended up taking the back way, which was mostly downhill and was easier on the leg. I ended up on my property in the evening, walking down the road to the front of it and hobbling alongside the brook. Heading to the shed I just wanted to sit down and breathe for a few minutes before I began scouting out the place, but I couldn't even do that with all the ruckus coming from behind the shed. Concern laced through me and I grabbed the axe from inside the garage and bolted back, thinking the worse. Arriving I saw it wasn't my kin but others. My eyes first landed on the body, of a girl who looked just like me in every way. Her torso was exposed, ripped open; everything that was inside was now outside all around her. Her face was deeply clawed across, there wasn't a spot on her that wasn't bruised or cut it looked like.

Some distance from the doppelganger was Mr. Sunshine, on his side and partly curled. My heart jerked roughly, the childhood image of him flashing before my eyes. His shoulders moved a fraction, alerting me he was alive. Relief flooded that he was merely unconscious. No need to check on him, not when a third figure still stood. Female, tall, reddish-brown hair, I sought the basic details only at that moment. She turned and my ever changing eyes met with dark grey ones, reflected briefly by the glasses. Alert the woman was and I didn't stop my advancing. She pulled up the stick as I brought up the axe and swung down, cleaving it in two with a growl.

The woman tried to say something but I couldn't hear between the heavy breathing and fast heart beats. I pulled the axe out of the ground with a jerk, preparing to advance again when a chunk of wood hit me in the side of my head. I lifted my attention to her, seeing she had flung the chunk, perhaps in an attempt to knock me out. Now only left with one half of the branch she was. My nose wrinkled as I came at her once more, she dodging as I swung. We played this game of axe verses branch for a few times until I came around with a side swing, a weaker thrust that lodged itself into the branch rather than breaking through it. The woman quickly twisted the stick, pulling the axe from my grasp and chucking it to the side.

"Ok, now we can talk--"

I leaped forward and punched her without hesitation. She began to take on the defensive side, while I, being the offensive one, pursued. It was a messy fight, not even proper conduct of any form of fighting styles. We were just tearing into one another, or more-so I was while she was trying to defend. She only struck when necessary, clipping me in the face. The woman grabbed my bad arm by the wrist and twisted, trying to turn me around. I slammed down on her foot and spun, my bad arm already making a fist and landing the blow to her stomach. I had to back off and crack my shoulder before advancing once more. It was back to dodging, kicking, and punching. She slapped me across the face, I tried to break her wrist, her foot kicked me in the ribs, I tried to break her nose, she went for the hair and I hit her in the chest to back her the hell off me. I threw her back into a tree, she grabbed around stick and came at me, whacking me one in the back shoulder again. I growled, feeling it vibrate in my throat and grabbed the stick, yanking it down and kicking it, splitting it in two like the last.

I stepped to the right, she did the same. I kept moving for a reason, kept my eyes locked on her dirt stained face. Three, two, one, and there she was. I ran at her, chucking my half of the stick to her head which she deflected with her own half, arms raised. I sneered and rammed her mid-section, tackling her to the ground with my own body weight. My hand grabbed the axe she fell next to and raised it in one hand above my head, the other held down her chest while I sat on her torso. Everything was on fire; Mr. Sunshine was in my peripheral vision, the dead corpse as well.

kill her kill her kill her kill her kill her killherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillherkillherKILLHERKILLHERKILLHERKILLHERKLLHERKILLHER!

I could feel the muscles moving, stretching and contracting, my right arm twitched, everything felt slowed down as my arm thrust down the axe. Her scream is not what stopped it, it was what she screamed. My arm felt as if it was going to snap right off by how hard I reversed the thrust and pulled the breaks.

"Broken sword! Broken sword!"

The words echoed in my head as I stared down at the woman I had pinned. My breathing deepened a fraction as I rasped out a hiss. The raised axe shook, my mind worked to process who this woman was. Anger vibrated, paranoia leaked through easily, I wonder if she knew I was trying to burn a whole right through her skull with my glare.

I had to know, though.

Forcing my weight onto my left hand I leaned down to the older woman, my axe lowering to the side of her face in warning, "Don't try." Were the only words I rasped, feeling the need of a glass of water. With a grunt I pulled myself off her forcefully and stood, weapon ready to attack. I glanced to Mr. Sunshine, still breathing, still alright. I worked on trying to reduce my heart rate, watching as the girl pulled herself up slowly. No doubt hurt, I figured, but my patience was thin right now. This was not what I wanted to be dealing with the evening I got home, the evening of my birthday, the birthday a doppelganger enjoyed in my place. My grip tightened on the axe, the thought of it seeing my kin, being with them, enjoying them... A fucking day when we acted like a family shot to hell!

The axe was tempted to be raised and say "fuck it!" to this all but I restrained; the urge to kill was far easier to act upon than the act of refraining from it. And I was not a person that went the easy way. Aching, bleeding, leg no doubt reopened, I scowled and uttered two words, "Speak quickly."