TRUST N' FOUND

“What about my brother?”

Dorene was always a small, sort of sickly girl. Her palm rested under her chin as she felt the breeze of the night air caress her face by the window sill of her own bedroom. She stared at the ticking clock in her room, a sunflower with the disc as the timer with hands counting down the minutes to midnight. In soft, murmur, she whispered, “And… he’s late again.”

While it was her room, Dorene lived in at an all girl’s orphanage in the deeper Arattani district while her brother lived on his own and wasn’t old enough to be her guardian. Though men weren’t allowed to be at the facility, they made it work and the facility made exceptions for family. She rubbed the back of her neck and blew out the candles of her melted cake and quietly slumped in her chair with a vintage Super Ranger figure in her hands. She flicked the arm of the action figure up and forced the red ranger to hammer down at nothing.

“I’m sorry, honey,” the caregiver at her door crossed her arms gently, “it’s close to bed time. He can come by tomorrow.”

“Big dumb, dumb, silly, idiot.”

“He might be, but he does love you and he wouldn’t be late if it weren’t for good reason.”

“Yeah, I suppose so. I’ll see him tomorrow—he’s probably got some dumb, big, dumb, dumb surprise for me, like last year—he got me a broken DayStation that I had to fix up! The thing was like, like, ninety years old.” Dorene chuckled, staring at her phone, hoping it’d ring.

“Lights out in ten minutes, sweetheart. Happy birthday.”

“Yes, yes, thank you.”

The caregiver slipped her a sympathetic smile, before leaving Dorene to herself, “Goodnight.”

It wasn’t long before her phone vibrated, a text message from DUMBY: I’ll be there soon. gonna sneak up to ur window.

Dorene texted back, smiling: ur late :T

DUMBY: was caught up at work! ill b there soon monkey

———————

Red watched as the rows of monitors within the concrete lair burned within each display. Rangtana Hospital was under siege with Super Cyclops now having reached the gate bleeding and pounding against the metal frame. His quiet hum, the tune of heroes, almost blanketed by the roaring flames that licked across the ground and over the FOB tent—once filled with the negotiations task force and SOU.

Captain Jacinto fumbled out from behind the armored vehicle, he held his side, and wobbled toward the gate where the giant was knocking against metal. He bled heavily from the several wounds received throughout the evening attack and slumped into the ground at a loss of breath. Behind the armored vehicle lay numerous masked players beaten and bruised and bloody with gunshot wounds.

On the other side of the armored vehicle was the news van with the windshield smashed through and the camera man lying face flat into the steer wheel, unmoving. Crisis Negotiator Adebayo hid himself, shot and wounded, in the back of the van with Reporter Kirigoe. She held a cloth over his bloody lap, trembling and crying.

“It’s going to be okay.” She repeated in a whisper, for him and for herself.

There was a sudden knock at the door sliding door of the van. Kirigoe froze and turned slowly backing herself over to Adebayo’s side. She held his hand as Adebayo pulled up his gun with all the strength that remained. The door slid open to a man with a raincoat on and a little girl frightened as she asked, “Where’s mommy and daddy?”

Adebayo lowered the gun while Kirigoe gently grabbed the girl, lifting her into the van, cautious of the man standing before her.

“I’m droppin’ this little one with you fuckers.”

The man in the rain coat slid the van door shut and made his way through wreckage and fire, appearing before the back of the giant at the gate.

“I want my switchblade back you big ugly fuck.”

The giant turned, humming, his mask was a bright yellow, with streaks of white on the side, and a silver faux mouth—a festival mask for children that covered only the upper center of his face. Beneath the mask, the mouth of the giant was splayed out with a bloody smile. The dark visor covered the eyes of the hulking man behind it; making him look like a strange and hungry one-eyed monster.

Pak stared up at Super Cyclops with one of the dead SOU’s assault rifle slung over his shoulder.

“I’m going to hell, you’re going to hell. Let’s go together, you big ugly!”

———————

Red’s hope diminished by the seconds, behind the pillar. He heard every gun shot, yelp, and blood curling shout amplified by the puppet speakers above. He covered his ears until the screaming stopped and the only sounds left were that of flames whispering the end. His brain was dizzy with images of fire consuming his sister. It made him acutely aware of his own mortality, and how he spent so much time doing nothing—not because he was lazy, but because he feared the world. Red’s bleeding hands went limp and fell over his lap. The searing pain in both his hands and pierced leg flooded in as the Space Out began to ware off.

“Please, I can’t lose her.” Red said, once more.

“Your sister, huh?”

Monkey ruminated over this plea with her fist under her chin. The fires on the monitors behind her lit the lair in a burning orange glow.

“PAKGUN69, what a crazy, crazy, crazy guy—taking on that big oaf. Always wondered where the big guy came from. Oh well, I guess they’ll die soon.” Monkey lowered the nail gun and lifted her knees and planted her feet at the ends of her swivel chair. “Anyway, let’s have a chat, why not, why not. I’ll hear you out, you’ve come this far. Come on out, I won’t shootchu… for the time being.”

Red peeked out to see a shadow, a silhouette of a third person, behind Monkey. His vision affected blurred as his head throbbed.

“Come, come.” Monkey said.

Red crawled out from behind the pillar and out into the open.

“Stand.”

He coughed, pushing himself off the ground, and leaned on his good leg—staring down his own two feet. Red and Monkey were now only meters apart. There was pain all over him and tears that had already marked their paths down his cheeks.

“So you’re here for your sister—HMMM. I’m not devoid of feelings and I see that while—you are pathetic—you came all this way for someone that you love, a sibling at that.” Monkey waved her hand, “Bery-vell, I will remove her from the list myself. In fact, I believe I will end the game soon.”

“You—will?” Red glanced up at Monkey, who was in her own little world—the bulky met headset.

“Sure! I can’t really guarantee the players will stop—but, maybe, maybe, maybe—if I make it clear enough with a loud and big message.”

He had no words. The tingling muscles in his hands kept him alert. I did it. I did it. I did it. At least, my sister, at least Yui. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else to do—I got nothing left. Pomi, Thura, Li—I’m sorry.

“I thought you and Pomi had more of, like, a—romantic, mushy thingy going on, but I guess you guys are brother and sister! Wow, wow, wow—who could’ve guessed. That’s sweet. So-so-so sweet, sort of annoying the way you couldn’t protect her AT ALL. Shame-shame-shame, but oh well! Done, done, dumby, done. She’s free.”

“P-Pomi? No, she’s not, I mean—” Red cleared his throat, and spoke through the pain of his throbbing head and hands, “—my sister is Yui Somsri.”

Monkey fell silent.

Her gleeful smile sank.

Red continued, the searing pain rose as words spilled out of his mouth, “S-she’s in a coma. I don’t know if she’s dreaming or feeling. She can’t—do anything, she’s helpless and—I’m so scared, I, I, can’t breathe thinking about her in that hospital.”

“No.”

“No?”

The dark shadow, the long silhouette behind Monkey, had grown during the silent pauses between Red and her. Her breathing broke into unsteady beats. Her chest rose and fell in erratic rhythm. Sweat squirmed down her temple and under her chin.

Red stepped back, one foot. A sudden, unexplained chill ran down his spine, as the atmosphere ran cold and the darkness overtook the burning orange glow. Am… I seeing things—is this Space Out? Overwhelmed by what he thought was his imagination—Red stepped back again.

He froze in place, feeling a lingering warmth run down his face. A horizontal cut ran below Red’s right eye, and blood poured down his cheek.

Monkey had shot and missed.

“My brother—”

“—gone, because of her.”

———————

It was well past midnight when Dorene received the news. She held herself and rocked back and forth with tears in her wide eyes within her bedroom. Caregivers, administrators, and a social worker were outside her room arguing and speaking with one another. Their voices muffled by her own inner thoughts. Her brother was supposed to come tonight, he had missed her birthday, and—he’s supposed to be here, where, why, why, where, why—why, no, no, no, no—please, no, no. Dorene’s eye twitched as she smacked her crying face with her palm.

A drunk driver had swerved into her brother’s car over a bridge that connected New Haewol to Arattani. The scene, later described to her by the social worker, was that the car smashed into the concrete parapet, and the car dropped into the river below the bridge, and sank to the bottom.

She identified the corpse of her own brother at the morgue. They confirmed that his death was caused by respiratory impairment from submersion in water. Dorene held her throat—imagining her brother consumed by the darkness of the river-sea, the black water invading the confines of his car, and his inability to break free, no matter how much he pounded against the windshield.

———————

“He drowned, alone and cold, because of your drunk sister.”

Twack!

Monkey shot Red in the shoulder, tears streamed down her face.

It was me.

Twack!

Another nail hit his belly.

It’s me. It’s my fault.

Twack!

The third one flew over, nipping the hairs of his head.

The pain in his heart overlapped the physical, blood soaked, nails that had penetrated his body.

“It’s my fault. I made her drive that night. Blame me instead, kill me, I—”

“I’ll kill you both.” Monkey said.

———————

“I don’t know if you know this, Daeng, but you’re a pretty funny kid.” Yui said. She was on her belly in the living room couch of their family home, drawing a picture with pencil and paper, and trying to stay cool in the summer heat.

“What?”

“You watch WWE, a bunch of anime, and read comics and manga, and even play videogames with all these heroes fighting against the evil world and protecting peace.”

“So what?” Red replied, seated on the ground with his back against the same couch.

“But, you never ever see yourself as the hero. You always go on and on about being in similar situations and being blown to bits like some side character. Why is that?”

“I don’t know—I’m just being realistic, I guess...”

“I think sometimes fear and faith both ask you to believe in something you can’t see. Just believe in yourself once in a while—even when you’re scared, even when you’re hopeful, whatever that means.”

“…Okay, why are you telling me this again?”

Yui handed the drawing over to Daeng. It was crudely drawn, even though she aspired to be a comic book artist. A circle with a face, Daeng in red cape standing heroically under the sun.

———————

“I don’t want to die.” Red said, ripping the five inch nail out from his shoulder.

He charged at her, stumbling, squealing, wheezing, at his fullest speed.

“You liar! You cheat! You murderer!” She cried.

Monkey fired again, as Red’s left fist rose toward her head—the nail grazed him. Her head recoiled once from the sudden jab. Red planted his left foot firmly into the ground, his right leg—bled pain, they were close. So close, now, that they felt each other’s breaths. Red’s right arm swung wide, he clamped his hand into a fist, and slammed against the bulky metal headset—knocking it off her face.

They fell together—her backward, and him forward—crashing into the ground with the swivel chair.

Silence fell over them.

“My eyes, my eyes, what have you done—my eyes! I can’t see, I can’t see, I can—!”

Monkey screamed and screamed, peeling back the skin of her face and writhing on the ground, as if the pain was overwhelming her.

Red sat up, coughing up bits of blood. Spaced a meter apart from Monkey.

His fist had connected with the headset and nothing else. Her eyes were untouched, fine, beautiful even under the circumstances.

“…I’m sorry.”

Lying flat on her back, her small body Monkey heaved, as her eyes erratically stared at the darkness of the ceiling, and the hanging puppets above. “I-ll, I’ll, I’ll, no,—”

Red crawled to the monitors, looking for anything, any way to send a message or a signal to Thura. There it was, a way to remotely control the drones, a DayStation joystick controller connected to a black box under the monitors. He found that he could switch the control over which drone he had by simply pressing the select button next to the start button. Red crashed every drone into the ground or the flames surrounding Rangtana Hospital, but one—the one nearest to Thura, who was now on the roof with his hands in his pockets staring out into the battlefield.

Red had no idea why Thura and Pomi were on the roof, but it didn’t matter. Thura seemed to understand that Red had reached Monkey. He nodded at the drone’s camera. Red thumbed the joystick to the left, and flew the drone far, far, away until it died of battery life.

It’s… all over?  There was no way of truly knowing if everyone at the hospital was okay—no way of stopping the remaining players from going after Thura, Pomi, or his sister. He simply had to believe in them—and seeing Thura on the roof, there was a relief in that.

Red switched the monitor feeds to the camera within Monkey’s lair and scanned the surrounding area. Moggy was still knocked out cold and Monkey was still lying on her back heaving, heavy breaths, and drooling at the mouth. There was nothing and no one besides the remnants of Monkey and Moggy’s living situation. An old fridge in the corner beside the monitors and dozens upon dozens of empty cans of energy drinks and empty bags of cheddar chips strewn all around.

———————

Was I… imagining things?

But, there it was again, the spine-chilling feeling. The hairs of the back of his neck rose, goosebumps. He scanned the monitors once more, something isn’t right, my head is throbbing again. Wait—

“Agh…”

—what is that?

The near shapeless shadow, a fuzzball, had appeared on the monitor—crawling toward Monkey with four shadowy limbs. Red shut his eyes and opened them back up—it was closer now, reaching her feet with its dark tendrils. Red shifted his body to look for himself, to see the shadowy approaching Monkey, and he did—he saw it.

The eyes, glassy and black, and her ghastly pale skin, and her ragged black gown. It’s not real. Red gulped, it was never real. It was the wide-grin on face of the woman in black that made him question his sanity, insanity, whirling and twirling inside his throbbing brain. Red slapped himself—trying to wake from his untimely hallucination.

But it was Monkey’s sudden shriek that terrified him—she can see it? I can see it. Monkey’s eyes widened as the face of the thing appeared over her—there noses nearly touching. The thing held her Monkey down grasping her forearms and forcing its weight on her.

“No, no, no—what’re you-ah-ee, someone! A-ahhh!” Monkey screamed out again.

I am the hate, that which you desired. The voice reverberated between the pillars and along the walls, inhuman and unreasonably deep. Its voice had entered Red’s mind—a language unknown, and yet he understood. Every word that seeped out of the woman in black, gagged him even though her grinning mouth remained shut.

I’ve come to collect, delicious, the fruit bare. I wish to devour.

The witc—

Red’s brain screamed, he clamped both his hands over his head, I don’t understand.

I, eat. I will eat you.

Monkey shook her head violently trying to free herself from the clutches of the witch.

This is wrong. This is all wrong. It’s supposed to be over—so why?!

Moggy’s eyes fluttered open, waking up to the strange sight unfolding, and wished to scream—but nothing came out.

“H-Help me! Help me!”

It was as if Monkey’s eyes desperately reached for Moggy first, then turned and faced Red—pleading and begging the way he did to her, to stop the game and to let his sister go.

Fuck it.

Twack! Twack! Psst!

Unfazed, nails had pierced the side of the Witch. She rose her twisted hand and fingers over Monkey’s delicately horrified face and down to her bare belly, digging its nails into her into her skin.

Psst!

Red held the nail gun, squeezing the trigger. It hissed empty. He threw the gun to the side and propped himself, once more, at the desk where the monitors were stacked. Yeah, I wanted to make her feel the damage she's caused, make her hurt in the same way we did. But this… is wrong. The Witch in Black—I remember now—it hungers for the insides of its victims. A folktale mom used to tell me about the possessed. She called it the Phi Pob—a cannibalistic spirit that ate the organs of their victims.

Monkey began convulsing; her head jerked one side, then her back arched up. Herleft arm bent, snapping the wrong direction. She couldn’t scream anymore—not with the hand of the Witch reaching down into her mouth with muffled cries and whimpers. To Red, Monkey’s eyes were screaming for help.

Red recognized the helpless terror on Monkey’s face. He was back on the ground. On his belly, he pulled himself forward with his right arm and pushed off his bleeding left leg. It’s not a nice feeling, is it, Monkey? Flickers of moments passed within his mind: Bank’s arm slamming into Red’s chest, Pak’s kick into his sternum, Pomi covered in blood and wounds, Yui’s car crash and hospitalization, and his endless scrolling, scrolling, scrolling.

“I’m here.”

The walls and pillars closed-in, threatening to squash them all between layers of concrete. Red pulled forward—crawling toward Monkey, leaving a crimson path behind him. The unremoved nails, dug deep into his wounds, as he made his way to her. The bloody drag marks shook and the ground began to rumble with Monkey’s shoulders bouncing and the back of her slamming.

“I’m right here.”

Red stretched forth his hand—finger tips, nearly touching. He felt her, the crying desperation—the loneliness and fear. A hole formed, the opposite end of Monkey and the Witch, along the ground—first a pin-prick—then wider—a void, beginning to suck in the air around them.

You can’t have her—not when Yui deserves a chance.

Red grasped Monkey’s lifeless hand.

“I know that we hurt you, and that your brother is gone. But you have to give Yui a chance—the chance to look you in the eyes and cry for your brother. To feel deeply, the wrong she had committed—give her that chance to see you in your deepest pain.” And know that she will be full of guilt and shame, strangled by the uncertainty to move on—together.

Then he felt it, her hand gripped his.

—it felt like the dark had retreated. The hole had closed and the Witch had vanished.

Moggy sat with his back against the pillar and his knees to his chest, holding himself and repeating, “It wasn’t me, it wasn’t me, mommy, it wasn’t me, daddy, it wasn’t me. No, ha-ha-I didn’t kill you both for nothing—ha! It was Pomi, it was for Pomi, mom—dad.”

Moggy yelled, “It’s not fair! It’s not fair! Pomi’s mine! She’s mine!”

Don’t Moggy, stop it, please—no more—just let it go.

It was too late.

“I’ll feast on this one.”

Pale arms lurched from inside the pillar and grabbed Moggy’s head—peeling and pulling back on his agonized face; the witch’s finger hooked into his mouth like a fish caught.

“Ha—”

Red watched with eyes wide, Moggy—impossibly—pulled and phasing into the pillar, until he ceased to exist. It was later explained that Moggy had stabbed his parents when they refused to lend him money for his online addiction. He dragged and stuffed them into a closet, leaving them there to rot, while he formed a plan to rid the world of the people that wrong him—Pomi, and ten others.

The shaking had stopped and the room went silent.

Red held Monkey’s small hand in his.

———————

In the aftermath of the major attack,

Rangtana Hospital was a broken shell of its former self.

It was later explained that Moggy had stabbed his parents when they refused to lend him money for his online addiction. He dragged and stuffed them into a closet, leaving them there to rot, while he formed a plan to rid the world of the people that wrong him—Pomi, and ten others.

Monkey explained—she and Moggy found each other. Tech and money, and a shared interest in twisted revenge brought them together.

Rain poured over the Arattani District.

Super Cyclops was lifelessly riddled with holes and sat against the gate of the hospital. A glistening, serrated knife protruded out from his neck. The man in the rain coat had half his face submerged in a puddle of rain.

Reinforcements had arrived and detained the remaining players out on the street. First Responders surrounded the scene giving aid to survivors. Adebayo was given proper treatment in the back of an ambulance. Kirigoe found the child’s parents, alive and unhurt, and grateful that their daughter wasn’t lost and alone through the whole ordeal. Firefighters swiftly brought the roaring flames to a whispering smoke.

The surviving members of the Special Operation Unit secured the hospital—first discovering several dozen bodies of the attackers on the first floor. A horror scene of mangled bodies strewn across the ER section of the hospital. They moved on to the next couple of floors and found Pomi in a room with the patients and the staff.

Yui’s room was untouched.

Thura and Li were nowhere to be seen.

Red was on his way by Rapid Transit, covered in his own wounds, and bleeding over the seat he was in. He saw the looming wall in the distance.

Rain streaked across the window in thin rivulets.

The sun bled through the clouds.

The tracks led toward a giant wall, a looming presence that watched their district like a silent, artificial mountain. Its vastness stretched across the land, disappearing into the haze at the morning horizon. This monolithic wall separated the lower pits from the inner sanctum of Ruam Mai, a city segmented into sixteen districts. The more you ventured deeper into Ruam Mai, the more it became different worlds. Red’s eyelids felt heavy, the dark mountain wall pressing down on his consciousness. He struggled to keep them open, his gaze fixed on the rain as it slid and merged across the pane glass, mirroring the blurred lines of his own fatigue.