THEM

Four days left—yet I still oversleep like an idiot. The clock hanging above her door kept ticking.

She began walking towards the window next to her bed, giving that same cubed landscape a look, and swiftly opened the window. The messy clutter around her room vanished under her quick hands as she worked through each area while she swept trash into big piles to be taken out later.

I have an hour before THEY come; hide the letter and clean my room to show I'm not a bad girl—so much work for so little reward.

Her bright pink eyes scan around the room, with all the trash packed up into piles, giving the entire room a completely new look. It would be hard to believe for anyone how quickly and precisely she managed to fix everything.

Hiding this letter is the hardest thing I have to do; hiding it, maybe in my pocket, is the best idea, as THEY always go through everything but my body.

Half an hour has passed.

She started to recite her lines. “Yes, I feel fine. Nothing weird has been going on; I'm looking forward to next time. Thank you for visiting.”

Why do I keep reciting these lines? I have seen them hundreds of times; I know what they look like and how they feel. If I just say these, I will be fine. But knowing the cost of getting them wrong—

Her slim hands tightened their grip on the bed sheets, the bundle of bed sheets ruined despite just being prepared for THEM.

Knock knock.

A shiver ran up her spine, her eyes stared at the floor, and her hands instinctively straightened her white and black dress while making sure her black hair was to her sides. One step forward, then another step forward, she neared the door. Every step took a second more, a second that could extend her life just a bit more.

“I’m—coming—" her voice squeaked, low but high-pitched at the same time. The aura surrounding the door grew dark and malicious, yet she had to open it.

Screech.

The door opened, and her eyes didn't even dare look up.

“Welcome back—” Her words came out flat and quiet, like she was forced. That, however, was true—

At the doorway, THEY stood, a human-like shape but not exactly; it had arms and legs, but the body’s proportions were wrong in ways that disgusted her: shoulders too low or high, body rotated in odd angles, legs that never touched the floor, and a pure black-colored face without features, just patterns she could vaguely recognize.

“He!!o Yuka, H0w @r3 y0u F33ling t0n!ght?” cracked and disorienting, the voice spoke roughly, deeply, as it vibrated into Yuka’s ears.

She forced her head up, her black hair getting a bit out of place. “Yes, I feel fine,” perfectly recited back towards THEM.

Don’t react; it's just human-like features; it's just an imposter face! THEY are not human—I'm not crazy, I can handle it, THEY don't search me, THEY can't search me, I know that—

“Please come in,” Yuka whispered, leading THEM into the room, THEIR heads turned in a full circle, scanning the room for any anomalies. Seeing the well-kept nature and Yuka's good background, THEY seemed to have a smile on their distorted faces, knowing nothing was out of the norm.

Yuka walked towards her bed and sat down like usual as THEY rotated impossibly to face her.

Don't turn your head like that; I hate it—

"Nothing weird has been happening?" Yuka shook her head robotically.

Just shut up! I can't stand that voice; all of you hate me, and all of you are praying we all die. Just leave me alone.

She forced a small smile, however, then started talking again, “Nothing weird has been going on!”

"H@v3 y0u g0tt3n @nyth!ng?"

…

Have you? Should I have anything? This isn't a question I've ever gotten. I can't understand what I'm supposed to say.

Yuka clutched her sides tightly as a crumbling sound escaped.

The letter, is that what they mean? I wasn't the only one, so perhaps they learned about it from someone else? I should lie—

“I haven't; why would I have anything anyway when I'm forced to be stuck here," she replied, her smile still holding up that same forced expression. It was painful for her to keep this up, but showing any dishonesty was even worse.

Don't look down; don't move the letter. They will never know.

“I'm looking forward to next time. Thank you for visiting.” As those words landed, a huff of black smoke emitted from their mouth. THEY turned around towards the door like usual. THEY pulled the handle up and stood in the door frame.

"D0 n0t tru$t l3tt3r$." The door slammed shut with a heavy thud; the atmosphere instantly lightened as Yuka sighed a breath of relief.

I have a week of grace once again. I really need to just relax for now, then tackle my next issue! The thing that the neighbor said.

I should have some fresh food now! She waited a couple minutes to make sure THEY left before she gently opened the door. Under her feet was a fresh supply of food for the next week; her lips watered, and her pink eyes sparkled.

Finally, time to fill myself up.

Bringing back the supplies, she turned on the stove; the package had premade packs of ramen noodles, quick and surprisingly good. It was made by a firm somewhere up north, based on the map on the packaging. Other than that, a huge label in Japanese read out, “Instant ramen! by Haru Konachi."

She leaned over the countertops after a minute of waiting and grabbed a pair of chopsticks and opened the packet; the warm smell quickly blasted her away. Yuka quickly started devouring it, her lips almost drooling over the first food she had in a while.

During her buffet, her mind, now free from worry, started to wander back to the neighbors' words. “The moonlight welcomes you; let the ground disappear beneath you and the stars embrace you.”

Where can moonlight welcome me outside—the windows, the rooftop, or the outside? That limits me to three options. The ground beneath actually gets rid of the outside options—so it can't be that one, and the stars embracing means that they should surround me.

She lowered her head, staring down at the ramen packet. Closing her eyes, the area around her disappeared before she felt stars above her. A feeling of hard concrete embraced her back.

On the rooftop, tonight, I will reveal the truth of what this letter means, or perhaps I will get caught and sent to death. Hopefully not.

Tick tock.

The clock wound forward fifteen degrees. Until the clock sat at a right angle, from nine to twelve.

The wooden door opened as Yuka stared out across the complex; each step had to be quiet, taking her towards the right, and she ran across towards the end of her sections.

There was a staircase past the second neighbor's door, the one who told her yesterday about the spot. While she ran, the crimson moonlight stayed dim, keeping her hidden from THEM. She dashed up each step, with the air growing more contaminated the further up.

The door was never locked. Yuka knew that. At the final step, she waited a moment before pushing the door open. The rooftop stretched wide; it was a huge concrete slab with a square hole in the middle and ventilation blocks surrounding it.

The moonlight changed; it cast a faint blue hue and not a sharp crimson light. The stars above also seemed to be pure white; they shone brightly, and Yuka could continue staring up.

This place is nostalgic; even if I lived with a crimson moonlight my life, it always changes back to this beautiful faint glow for me, just for me. Coming here every weekend, I loved it; it's the one highlight of my week that I never get to forget.

Her eyes darted left, seeing that everything past the hilltop of the square complex was still filled with red and black cubes underneath her, until finally setting her gaze towards a vent near the edge.

She walked over and squeezed herself in between the ventilation and the safety fencing. Her small body got tucked perfectly and comfortably.

The letter—

Yuka saw an envelope wedged into the corner of the ventilation block where she usually looked when relaxing in between here.

They knew that I would be here? Nobody knows of this spot but me, and nobody ever comes up here, from what I know. Was I wrong and being watched all this time? Maybe THEY placed it—no, they would've just taken it and not even written it to begin with.

Her face turned sour as she looked around towards the cubed landscape. Worrying about that is pointless since it seems nobody caught me; I should be safe. Time to figure out the letter instead and solve everything!

Having grabbed the letter tightly, the urge to rest vanished, and Yuka rushed back over to the door with the staircase as she left the bluish hue to turn back into its deep crimson further with every step she took down.

The hallways zoomed past and disappeared as fast as they came as she dashed toward her room, slammed the door shut, and let silence fill her exhaustion.

Hopefully it won't be a letter telling me to get another letter! She walked over toward her bed and looked at the seal. It didn't have a fancy insignia, but it was wax-sealed. She ripped it open anyway before she saw a worn-out yellowish page.

It seems rather used.

Yuka turned around, faced the crimson window, and put the letter towards the moon's light. Her guess was right as multiple fingerprints were revealed.

She moved back to her bed and started to read the inked words as follows: I have been here once, but I have been set free. Let me help you all be set free; we do not deserve the cruel fate which we have been put into! Join the revolution for yourselves, not for me or anyone else. The letter also contained a whole list of steps.

Access your computer, run the application mwchat, and put in this code and input this server address: address: 55102, code: 'set.me.free.'

It doesn't seem like they have any intent to tell me more anyway, unless I join. The last 1676 days have left me tired and alone. I want it to end.

Yuka turned over and grabbed her journal, flicked to the last page, read over what she had said yesterday, and started a blank page.

#1677, I passed the inspection. I went to the rooftop and got a letter with an address to join a community. I finally won’t be alone for the first time in years. I have four days left in this world, and I'm ready to leave this behind. Hopefully, the computer will work tomorrow.