Little Nightmares

And so, we arrive at the present.

I’ve always thought of myself as a level-headed guy, but man this world won’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,” says the locksmith.

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

AT Locks… AT… Allister Twain?

I’m paralysed by shock. The old man places a sheet of paper in front of me. He hands me a pen, which I absentmindedly take.

“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 explains.

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

The man chuckles, as he inspects the box. “The price is at the bottom. Please sign,” he instructs me.

10 silver coins. Is that a lot? The pouch of coins I stole is dangerously close to being empty. Regardless, I sign my name at the bottom of the page. The slow, open mouth smile maybe-Allister flashes when I do this is nothing short of unsettling.

What a creepy, old bastard…

He collects his tools and gets to work sawing open the lockbox. It’s noisy works, and the lockbox shoots sparks at us, like it has a vendetta.

It’s only once the box is opened, that Erin and I dare to approach. We peer inside. What sort of clue could have be sealed in there?

Well, as it turns out… nothing. The box is empty.

“Thanks for wasting our time, Kugo,” says 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 continues to complain in the background. The visibly amused locksmith makes a half-hearted attempt to calm her down.

I continue to stare at the empty box, ignoring Erin’s whining. Why did this thing speak to me so clearly? It couldn’t be a red herring, since I’m the one who went and took it. But, then again, doesn’t a good chess player bait his opponents by making them think they’re outsmarting him?

In the background, Erin had been trying to lower the price, since there was nothing in the box. However, she had just lost the argument and handed the ten silver coins over to the locksmith.

Dude, you sound ridiculous, I tell myself. This damn tin can reminded you of Shinichi and you obsessed over it, like you did with him. That’s all that ha-

From the corner of my eye, I see the locksmith flip one of the coins Erin had just given him. Suddenly, the world slows down, as my brain sprints into overdrive. I think back to that 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 he was guiding me. I know it. I’m not crazy and I’ve never been crazy. This locksmith is 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 an answer? But… a clue to what?

I decide to try something.

Allister! Look at me! I think to myself.

Probably-Allister makes no indication of having heard me, as he unapologetically apologises 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 ask.

“Right now?” she asks, visibly annoyed.

“You don’t want it to starve, do you?” I ask. She tells me she doesn’t and rushes 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 ask.

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

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

“Marcus Hampton,” he replies without skipping a beat.

His response heavily suggested that, even if he is Allister, he won't tell me anything; at least not now.

I close my eyes and sigh.

When I open them again, my world has changed.

The buildings around me are collapsed and smouldering. Fire rages everywhere. The sky is darkened by the thick, black smoke emitting from the ruins of millions of memories. Its signal is clear. This- whatever this is- is the end of an era.

Right where maybe-Allister had been standing, is a humanoid figure I can’t properly describe. Sure, it's physically imposing, if not downright terrifying. It's cladded in dark, purple armour. A thick helmet covers its face, with only a thin line allowing the creature to see. It wields a sword; who’s length matches my height. However, when I say I can't describe this monster, I'm not referring to its appearance.

What I can't describe, is why, instead of fearing this thing... it fills me with rage.

I blink again.

“Sir, are you alright?” maybe-Allister asks.

My eyes dart all over the room. Armchairs, fireplace, worktable, lying old man. I’m back in the locksmith’s establishment- though I’m not even sure I’d ever even left.

I storm out of the shop.

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

***

The journey back to the port takes less than half the time it had taken us to find AT Locks, since we’d marked our trajectory onto our map. It’s evening by the time we arrive.

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

“Focus on the mission,” I say. But she’s right. I expected far more activity than this. Most worryingly, to me, was the lack of city guards.

I shake my head to clear it. “Let’s get this over with. I have some important business to handle.”

I tie my leg to a hitching post next to a dockside booth, using my spare rope. Then, I tie my hands together as tightly as I can. Inside the booth, is 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.

Using my free leg, I stamp on the window.

The man jolts awake. He falls backwards, hitting the floor hard. When he finally gets up, our eyes meet. Suddenly, I’m looking at him from inside the booth. Sure enough, he is tied up exactly as I had just been. It seems the more I use this power, the less sick it makes me. The fat man, on the other hand, projectile vomits his dinner. God, that’s disgusting.

I waste no time in leaping over to the door. Fortunately, the key is in the lock. I unlock the door and walk around to greet my captive.

“Donald West,” I say, pointing my sword at him. "We need to talk."

I meant it as an undebatable one-liner, but Donald goes ahead and ruins the moment. He squeals like a pig. “He’s here! He’s here!”

Wait… what?

Men rush out from all sides. I count seven at a glance. They’re all armed to the teeth.

“Kugo!”

Erin?

A tall, bearded man emerges from behind the other goons. Halton of Riefeld. He’s dragging Erin by the neck with his left hand. In his right hand, is the audio orb. We’ve been busted.

I unsheathe my sword.

Okay, fine, I’ll admit it: I have no idea what to do. Yes, I went through a period of my life where I was obsessed with samurai and medieval knights. Yes, I extensively studied sword fighting techniques, and yes I’m a total nerd. But that’s all I am. A nerd. I can’t fight all of these people, and quite frankly, I’m too scared to die.

My legs shake. My grip on the sword is unstable, courtesy of the sweat seeping through my palms. I can do this. I mean, I’m Sato Kugo, after all, and I always-

I chicken out.

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

Either the shakiness in my voice gave the game away, or these thugs didn’t care about their coworker, because they all burst out laughing.

“Do it, then! I always enjoy some bloodshed!” Halton calls out.

Okay, I’m clearly dealing with a lunatic. What’s worse is, they won’t stop approaching me.

Goddamnit, Erin! You’re a liability right now!

But I can't be mad at her; she was only doing what I asked and has been nothing but helpful up until now. I'm not sure if I was far more afraid of dying than I'd ever realised, but I had never thought this hard about anything in my life.

Is it that I'm so scared, because I finally have someone counting on me? I wonder, as I stare at Erin.

Growing up, I 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 complete nonsense, when you never actually expect to be in a given situation.

I close my eyes. I’m sorry, Erin. I really am the worst kind of loser.

I switch places with the man closest to Halton.

I turn on my heel to run. My sword turns with me. Before I realise it, I’m swinging it straight at that bearded bastard.

Halton instinctively let’s go of Erin and steps back. I slice a clean line into his raised forearms. It’s nowhere near deep enough to sever them, but I can’t imagine he’ll be fighting at full ability for a while.

An almost superhuman surge of strength overcomes me. I grab Erin by the scruff of the neck.

“Run!”