The Honest Guest: Night 18

       Memories are…painful. Once innocent, even hopeful thoughts become hurtful reminders in the face of a bleak present. I want to forget, to save myself from the pain, but…that would mean letting go of those dear to me.

       The young man slowly made his way down the empty corridors. Along the way, he sighed to himself, “I’m not even sure where my room is…or even if that’s the direction I want to head in…”
       He went quiet, simply listening to his own repetitive steps as he walked. Suddenly, there was a voice, almost ghastly-sounding, that came from down the hall. It was his own voice, shouting, “No! No, this is our chance. We can get the drop on them while they’re preoccupied. Let’s go! Make a break for HQ while they’re still distracted!”
       The young man paused, looking down the hall that the noise came from. After a minute of nothing more happening, he shook his head and started to go down a different hall. A different noise then came from the first hall; it was the voice of a cheery and relieved-sounding young man, “Jean! You really came through for us there, man.”
       The young man stopped abruptly. He looked in the direction for a beat then rushed around the corner, staring into the hall that the voices came from. All the while, the same voice went on, “We owe you big time.”
       The young man bolted down the hall immediately, approaching the voice that insisted, “Don’t shrug it off, I’m serious!”
       He stopped in the middle of an empty hall, looking back and forth. From nearby, the voice stated, “We’re all alive because of you.” The young man looked to a shut door beside him, and the voice could be heard behind it, “Like I said, you make a great leader!”
       The voice finally went quiet, and the young man reached for the doorknob. Suddenly, a glowing blue figure abruptly phased through the door and flew past the young man’s head, filling the hall with its watery light. He turned and his eyes followed the ghastly creature; it floated in the air, as if swimming; it had the body of a fish skeleton but the head was a box of some sort, with a glass face and metal antennas sticking out of the top; the face itself had no features, but behind the glass was a pair of blank eyes amidst a black background. The creature swam a few feet down the hall before turning around, facing the young man with its glowing face.
       There was an unnatural, fuzzy screech that briefly emitted from the creature, as the face behind the glass flickered with the image of a young man with short, black hair. He wore a brown uniform with an image of crossed blades. He had light brown eyes and freckles speckling his cheeks. He sat on a ledge, filling a small, silver canister with gas as he spoke, “Promise me you’re not going to take this the wrong way, but I don’t think you’re a good leader because you’re strong. I think you’re a good leader because you know what it is to be weak. You’re one of us. You’re scared out of your mind, just like we all are. It makes you alert, sympathetic. You made a damn good call out there. Got me running for my life.” The freckled young man turned his head towards the screen as he finished, “You’re why I can say this.”
       Suddenly, the screen flickered again with another light screech, and it was briefly replaced by the fuzzy image of a half-eaten face, with black hair, dead eyes and freckles on his bloodless cheeks, as the other young man’s voice whispered in horror, “Is that…Marco?”
       Immediately, the young man turned away and rushed down the hall, leaving the watery glow and the ghastly fish far behind him. When the young man had left, the screen on the fish’s face flicked again, this time changing to Gregory’s sly smirk and outwardly-turned gaze. He gave an oily chuckle, “People tend to want an enjoyable experience to be unforgettable. The funny thing is that horrible events make longer lasting memories, since they have a habit of making the good ones sour. When that happens, it’s easiest to just throw them all away. He, he, he.”