My Little Nightmare

I’d always thought of myself as a level-headed guy, but man this world wouldn't stop testing that notion. Surely, I had misheard, right?

“Before I open this box for you, I’ll need you to sign a form,” said the locksmith.

Nope, I had heard him loud and clear. That was unmistakably the voice that had plagued me since birth.

AT Locks… AT… Allister Twain?

I was paralysed with shock. The old man placed a sheet of paper in front of me, and handed me a pen, which I absentmindedly took.

“This is just to confirm that the box belongs to you, and that if it doesn’t, I’m not responsible for opening it,” maybe-Allister explained.

“Isn’t that kind of sketchy?” Erin muttered nervously.

The man chuckled. “The price is somewhere in there. Please sign,” he instructed me.

Ten silver coins. Was that a lot? The pouch of coins I'd stolen was dangerously close to being empty. Whatever. I signed my name at the bottom of the page. The slow, open mouth smile maybe-Allister flashed when I did this was nothing short of unsettling.

What a creepy, old bastard…

He felt around the box. "It doesn't have a lock?" he observed.

"No," I replied.

"Then how did you lose your key?"

I was stumped.

Maybe-Allister shook his head. He collected his tools and got to work sawing open the lockbox. It was noisy. The box shot sparks at us with a vendetta.

Only once the box had been opened, did Erin and I dare to approach. What sort of clue could have be sealed in there?

Nothing. The box was empty.

“Thanks for wasting our time, Kugo,” said Erin, angrily puffing out her cheeks. “We had to ride through the rain for hours to get this stupid box open and it was all for nothing. Ten silver, only to—”

She continued to complain in the background. The visibly amused locksmith made a half-hearted attempt at calming her down.

I continued to stare at the empty box, ignoring Erin’s whining. Why had this thing spoken to me so clearly? It certainly couldn’t have been a red-herring, or a lousy one it would have made.

In the background, Erin was trying to negotiate a lower price.

But, then again, doesn’t a good chess player bait his opponents by making them think they’re the ones doing the outsmarting?

It seemed Erin had lost the argument, because she handed the ten silver coins over to the locksmith.

Dude, you sound ridiculous, I told myself. This thing reminded you of Shinichi and you couldn’t handle it, because you’ve never grown up. That’s all there is to it—

From the corner of my eye, I saw the locksmith flip one of the coins Erin had just given him. Suddenly, the world slowed down, as my brain sprinted into overdrive. I thought back to the caped weirdo tossing his stupid coin.

“Is this really the case you should be investigating?”

“I guess, if you ever need anything opened, head to AT Locks.”

That man knew exactly where what he was doing. I wasn't crazy and I’d never been crazy. I was now 90% sure that this locksmith was Allister.

If this man really is Allister, then that means this is the case I should be investigating. So, wouldn't that make him a clue, instead of the answer? But… a clue to what?

I decided to try something.

Allister! Look at me!

Probably-Allister made no indication of having heard my thoughts, as he unapologetically apologised to Erin, telling her that the contract must be fulfilled.

Hmm… to be fair, I haven’t heard from him since coming here.

“Erin, could you feed the horse, please?” I asked.

“Right now?” she replied, visibly annoyed.

“You don’t want it to starve, do you?” She told me she didn’t and rushed outside.

Now, it was just the locksmith and I. I glared suspiciously and he ignored subtly.

Okay, fine, I’ll get straight to the point.

“You’re Allister, aren’t you?” I asked.

The man looked up. “Is that a friend of yours?” he responded, blankly.

“Absolutely not. So, go on, what is your name?” I tested him.

“Alan Thatcher,” he replied without skipping a beat.

That has to be a prepared answer. I don't think I'm going to get a word of truth out of this guy.

I closed my eyes and sighed. When I opened them again, the world had changed.

The buildings around me were collapsed and smouldering. Fire raged everywhere. The sky was darkened by thick, black smoke emitting from the ruins of thousands of memories. It signalled one thing very clearly: This—whatever this was—was the end of an era.

Right where probably-Allister had been standing, was a humanoid figure I couldn't properly describe. It was physically imposing, if not downright terrifying, clad in its dark, purple armour. A thick helmet covered its face, with only a thin line allowing the creature to see. It wielded a sword; who’s length matched my height. However, when I said I couldn't describe this monster, I wasn't referring to its appearance.

No, what I can't describe was why, instead of fearing this thing... it filled me with rage.

I blinked again.

“Sir are you alright?” probably-Allister asked.

My eyes darted all over the room. Armchairs, fireplace, worktable, lying old man. I was back in the locksmith’s establishment. Had I ever even left?

I stormed out of the shop.

“Erin, we’re leaving,” I snapped. “We have some traffickers to take out.”

***

The journey back to the port took less than half the time it had taken us to find AT Locks, since we’d marked our trajectory on the map. As such, it was only evening by the time we arrived.

“Kugo, don’t you think this place is too quiet?” Erin worriedly whispered.

“Focus on the mission,” I reprimanded. Though, she was right. I had expected far more activity than this. Most worryingly, to me, was the lack of city guards.

I shook my head to clear it. “Let’s split up. You retrieve the audio orb, and I’ll interrogate a certain someone.”

***

Inside this particular dockside booth, was a fat man, laying precariously backwards in his chair, with his feet kicked up onto his desk. A notebook covered his face. I could tell from the rhythmic rising and falling of his chest that he was fast asleep.

I tied my leg to a hitching post next to the booth, using rope I’d gathered earlier from my fellow captives. Then, I tied my hands behind my back as tightly as I could. Using my free leg, I stamped on the window.

*Stomp!*

The man jolted awake. He fell backwards, hitting the floor hard. When he finally got up, our eyes met.

Suddenly, I was looking at him from inside the booth. Sure enough, he was tied up exactly as I had just been.

It seems the more I use this power, the less sick it makes me, I noticed.

On the other hand, the fat man projectile vomited his dinner. Ew.

I wasted no time in leaping over to the door. I turned the key that was already in the lock and pushed the door open. I walked around to greet my captive. “Donald West,” I said, pointing my sword at him. "We need to talk."

I had meant it as an undebatable one-liner, but Donald went ahead and ruined the moment. “He’s here! He’s here!” he squealed.

Wait, what?

Shadowy figures appeared all around me; I counted seven at a glance. They were all armed to the teeth.

“Kugo!”

Erin?

A tall figure emerged from behind the goons. Even in the dark, I could make out the ginger beard and chubby, yet muscular physique.

Hollow Hands Halton!

He was dragging Erin by the neck with his left hand. In his right hand, was the audio orb. We’d been busted.

I unsheathed my sword.

Okay, fine, I’ll admit it: I had no idea what to do. Yes, I had gone through a period of my life where I had been obsessed with medieval warriors. Yes, I had extensively studied sword fighting techniques, and yes I was a complete nerd. But that’s all I was: a nerd. I wasn’t some brave knight or hero of old. To these thugs, I was a warmup.

My legs shook. My grip on the sword was unstable, courtesy of the sweat seeping through my palms. Calm down. You can do this! You're Sato Kugo, the most fearsome of opponents! You never—

I chickened out.

Instead of fighting bravely, I pointed my sword at Donald West. “Unhand her, or I’ll kill him!” I announced.

Was it the shakiness in my voice that gave the game away, or did these thugs not care about their coworker? Either way, they all burst out laughing.

“Do it, then! I always enjoy some bloodshed!” Halton called out with glee.

Okay, I was clearly dealing with a lunatic. Worse yet, they wouldn't stop closing in.

Goddamnit, Erin! Why did you have to go and get yourself captured?!

But I couldn't be mad at her; she was only doing what I'd asked and had been nothing but helpful up until now. And though I was reluctant to admit it, part of me knew that I’d sent her to collect the orb, because I had been too scared to do it myself.

Growing up, I'd always thought that, if I were in a life-or-death situation, I’d be the valiant hero, fighting until my last breath. I guess it's easy to make up nonsense, when you never expect to be in a given situation.

I closed my eyes. I’m sorry, Erin, but you're on your own. I really am the worst kind of loser.

I switched places with the man closest to Halton.

I turned on my heel to run. My sword turned with me. Before I realised it, I was swinging it straight at that bearded bastard.

Halton instinctively let go of Erin and stepped back. I sliced a clean line into his raised forearms. It was nowhere near deep enough to sever them, but I couldn't imagine he’d be fighting at full ability for a while.

An almost superhuman surge of strength overcame me in that moment. I grabbed Erin by the arm.

“Run!”