Revelation 25

He should hear me soon.

I’ve already conceived my plan. When he finds me, I’ll offer a drink. But I’ll dissolve one of the pills in it.

I hope it’ll be painless.


 

Jesus Christ, what am I doing?

I've seen the destruction, the death that drugs can cause. Withering to nothing, fading away. One day here on this earth, the next day gone forever.

I experienced it firsthand.

I almost died. I survived because somebody up there thought I should live.

If i do this, Omar will most definitely die, no chance of saving him, no turning back.

Oh, Christ! What do I do?

 

 

I can’t do it. I just can’t.

I'll just talk to him and leave, that'll be the end of it. I hear him coming.

Revelation 24

On my way to find a cab to the airport, Judgment and Legion appeared before me.

“Are you finally ready to do your job?” they asked.

“Yes,” I said. “I know what I have to do. But I don’t like it.” I spit at their feet. “Why don’t you do it?”

Legion sounded like he was speaking with an ignorant child. “Even we have rules, Frank.”

They opened a Door. Now I’m back at Omar’s apartment.

Revelation 23

A warden wearing a hooded robe silently guided me down a hallway and she indicated a door with the number 11 on it. I found myself inside a stomach.

Acid and half-digested food were flying everywhere. Then I saw another door. After doing my best to stay balanced in all the gunk around me (my feet getting caught a time or two), I reached it.

I couldn’t open it at first; my hands were too slippery to turn the knob. Finally I forced my way through.

I was in a small room, pure white on all walls, floor, and ceiling.

I felt like I was desecrating some pristine place.

There, in the center of the room, stood a young girl. Her dress was almost a purer white than the room itself.

I could tell I disgusted her, but she tried to be kind anyway. She smiled friendlily.

Breathing for a moment, I thought of what to say.

“What do you consider most pure?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but her eyes went wide and she began to wretch.

Squeezing my eyes tightly, I listened for her vomiting to stop.

An eternity later, I cracked open my eyes. The room was, surprisingly, still clean and white, but she was gone.

In her place were a handful of pills.

I’d read the file, I knew what these did. They caused someone to wink out of existence. I didn’t like using something like this against another human being, especially in the form of drugs.

But I couldn’t help myself. The whispers had compelled me.

But knowing what I have to do, I feel nauseous.

Revelation 22

Last night I heard whispers in my sleep.

They told me to go to the Hushed Monks.

Jack is showing me the Door to get there.

Revelation 21

Shortly after that, I was back at HQ and learned I’d been “missing” for about a day.

I was promptly escorted back to my room by armed guards (I’d accidentally left my own weapon on that rooftop when they shot at Omar).

After I wrote the last post, I found that Omar’s site was no longer blocked.

I know what he’s been up to. He’s been killing indiscriminately. And not just STAB agents, but civilians too.

I have to stop him.

He’s become what I could not.

He's become what I have to stop.

Revelation 20

Yesterday Jack told me he would turn me solid again only if I went to the Archive.

I had no other choice. Again.

He led me through the dank tunnels again, filled with bone spiders. I’d since learned that they were the domain of Grandfather, who directly oversaw the Archive.

Though the Eye theoretically did the same for the Panopticon, I had rarely seen it, save for the periodic run-ins with Judgment.

Once we arrived at the Archive, we were led by a few of the Gifted to a chamber where Grandfather sat at a large mahogany desk, scribbling unceasingly into his book.

His eyes were covered by a bandage tied at the back.

Impossibly high stacks of books lined the walls on every side.

We approached the graying “man.”

Jack took his place beside his elder across from me.

I cleared my throat. “I, uh, I would like to be solid again.”

He stopped scribbling and looked up. Though he had no eyes, he stared right at me, through me. He turned his book toward me and tapped the blank page, setting a feather pen and inkwell near my hand.

“He wants a deal,” Jack explained, all too exuberantly.

“What deal?”

An image of Her appeared on the page. The woman without a face. The woman with an umbrella.

Jack continued, “Solidity for a memory. It will slowly fade without you noticing a thing.”

I realized what was going on. My memory of Her. I couldn’t live without it; I had to be wary at all times.

Yet I could do nothing to stop the Entities or the End they would bring about while it still held me back.

I signed.

Revelation 19

The trail of handprints led back to the auditorium where I was inducted into this nightmare, where it had all started.

The place was empty, save for a lone figure standing on stage, staring straight at me as I walked toward him—Jack.

He did this. Somehow, I don’t know how, but he did this to me. Maybe one of those Objects Legion has in keeping?

But as I drew closer, I could feel it.

He was one of them, one of the Entities locked in their eternal struggle.

“You’re one of them,” I said.

He smiled.

“Why? Why would you do all this to me?” I showed no anger. Not because of my training, but because I didn’t feel any. At this point, I just wanted to know: why?

The smile became a twitching smirk and a twinkle appeared in his eye. “To have fun, while I still can. I’m lesser among them, but I can still have my day, my anarchy. Before the End.”

“But—” I thought for a moment. “You tricked me. No, you forced me to come here, to the Panopticon. I had no other choice. Omar and those morons would’ve gotten me killed. And you made it sound like where we were going was better.”

He didn’t bat an eye.

“It was worse. You tried to make me a monster like you!”

The hall was silent for several minutes.

“Why would you force me into this organization? You want chaos, not enforced order!”

Jack tilted his head slightly, then half-whispered:

“Sometimes we’re all hypocrites out of necessity.”