Revelation 18

Upon our return, an alarm was blazing. They had discovered my room empty.

Given that I was intangible, they couldn’t do anything to me, but I was still worried—what had happened and why?

As I wandered aimlessly through the barren corridors, I heard on the building-wide intercom that an Eliminative Team had been dispatched to search for me.

The ET led by Judgment.

Then I noticed a smeared red handprint on the wall to my left. No one else seemed to notice.

Revelation 17

Before heading to Nakamura’s office, I retrieved my invisible armor and rifle and stealthily made my way down the hall and through the foyer.

I could only hope I wasn’t too late.

I waited outside Nakamura’s office for a time, occasionally peeking in to see him sitting silently at his desk, alone.

Finally they arrived—my partner and…my handler wasn’t there. Instead, Judgment led my partner into the office, along with some chick I’d never seen before.

I slipped in behind them before the door closed.

“I trust you all have no problem with this mission? No conflict of interest?” Nakamura was saying.

Everyone else remained stoically silent.

The Door appeared; I quietly walked toward it behind their backs, hoping I wouldn’t accidentally let out a tell-tale breath and give up my position.

I stood right next to the Door, holding my breath, awaiting the signal.

They went through and I followed. No one noticed.

I was surprised to find that I had arrived at the destination before them. I looked around. Had to still be in America somewhere.

Searching for Omar, I heard the others arriving.

We were on a rooftop and across from us was a rest stop. There he was.

“Omar!” I yelled. “Omar! Look out!” He didn’t move in the slightest.

I had to act before it was too late.

I rushed toward Judgment and smashed the butt of my rifle into his temple. The rifle went through his head, as though he or I were intangible.

I tried to tackle my partner (Judgment had moved past) and ended up face planting.

Was I a freaking ghost!?

My armor made me invisible, but I still had weight and mass. Confused, I shed it anyway. I should have been visible to everyone.

I should have gotten into more trouble.

No one could hear me, I couldn’t stop them. I was about to watch one of the few people who was remotely nice to me in my life lose his.

The team members took their positions, the woman on standby. The shot rang out.

I closed my eyes.

When I dared to open them again, I saw Omar, still standing. He was looking straight at us.

Swearing, Judgment herded the team back through the Door. I followed so I wouldn’t be left behind.

Revelation 16

I absolutely had to get out of my room.

I had to do something.

I had to end this.

That’s when Jack showed up.

“Looks to me like you’ve gotten yourself into a bit of a jam again.”

I looked at him straight in the eyes. “Will you help me?”

He winked, then answered, “Let it never be said that ol’ Jack-in-Irons wouldn’t help a fellow prisoner of this world who was in need.”

And that was that. I was out and he was gone.

Now I have to find the new ET they’ve sent out and figure out where Omar is.

Revelation 15

I’ve been confined to my quarters for insubordination. My door is completely sealed, like it was my first night here. No windows. I’m trapped.

Frankly, I’m surprised they haven’t killed me. It’s like they need me, despite all their threats. I don’t get it.

I have no way to contact Omar and warn him. One of the other ETs is probably going after him now. If only I could get out of here, I could do something about it.

All I have is this phone.

I should probably explain that.

No one else here at the facility knows about it. I found it a few days (objectively) after I first arrived. It was here in my room, on my bed. It had a message that said it was from a friend. It has a completely private, secure connection to the Internet, so they can’t easily discover it. It’s what I’ve been using this whole time.

However, direct communication via phone is disabled, and I don’t know the ins and outs of electronics to do anything about it. I’m not sure why this has been done, but there have been rumors about listening devices in our rooms. Also, whoever this strange “friend” is, he or she didn’t bother to get a plan with texting. Just Internet. Weird.

And before you suggest I warn Omar about the hit via his own blog, I already tried that. Apparently the site is being blocked by Them. Probably because of my breach of protocol.

Wait. How could they block a site on my…? That means…

Shit. They know about my blog.

Revelation 14

After I got dressed again and was released from the infirmary, I had a special invitation by the man himself, L.G. Probably not a good sign.

I was right.

I was made to go through a Door that was more ornate than usual, and found myself in a large chamber, with ground to ceiling mirrors on every wall. On the ceiling was a depiction of the Wicked Witch of the West from the original book The Wonderful Wizard of Oz. Her eye was reflected in all the mirrors unto infinity.

It reminded me of Judgment. He was once a normal man, but the Eye chose him. Now he serves as its agent in the world. No one is sure where he goes or what exactly he does, just that it involves killing people. The only human side to him left is that sometimes the sound of a guitar is heard emanating from his quarters.

“Hello,” said a voice. “I am Legion.”

“That’s what L.G. stands for?” I asked sheepishly. “Or are you just a secretary or something?”

“I am he. You can also call me Mr. Mirror, if you like.” He didn’t seem all that angry or perturbed. Apparently my summons wasn’t so he could chew me out.

“Why’d you call me here?” I asked.

“To tell you why it is very important that you do your work, and do it thoroughly, Mr. Adams.”

He came into the light and I started. Legion or Mr. Mirror or whatever the hell he wanted me to call him was covered in what looked like fresh wounds, but they didn’t seem to bother him. I swear I could see movement of little tiny insects or something in them. But worse, and what bothered me far more, was that he had no legs.

His top half was human, but his bottom half was that of a serpent.

“Do not be alarmed,” he said. “I am simply Their servant.”

“Why? Why would you agree to become something like this?”

He twitched involuntarily for a moment. “To be perfectly honest, I was somewhat tricked into this position. I cannot remember why exactly I agreed to go to the place, but in the long run, it has been no trouble. Once they took me to the Eye, I was shown the truth.

“Behind me is a large vault within which are stored 2000 of the Ancient Relics that will repair and release our God. I was able to vanquish the many Holders through the powers They lent me. It was almost a breeze, really. Just a matter of a few hundred left to go. And word is that most of them are being closed in on as we speak. To be sure, some of them will be claimed by our Enemies, but we have agents on standby to retrieve them.”

I asked, “Why do you want to sow chaos in the world? Why is all this work, including mine, so important to you? If everything is meaningless as you say, why not leave well enough alone?”

“Because we all have done wrong. Look at nature. Creatures constantly killing and maiming each other, mothers eating their own children, predator toying with prey. We humans are the biggest bastards of them all. Nothing deserves to exist. And no amount of so-called ‘good’ will ever make up for it. Even the Entities themselves have done unspeakable, unimaginable wrong. Nothing deserves to exist. And so shall it be. When He comes. A void.”

Just then a thought occurred to me. “Why all this organization and control, if you’re promoting Chaos and Disorder to the point that everything breaks apart, why run such a tight operation?”

“Efficiency and Order are necessary to defeat Order itself. Long terms plans must be made or no progress will be gained. Once Order is conquered, Chaos can rule unbridled.”

Letting his words sink in, he continued, his voice now stern instead of friendly, “You will do your job, no questions asked, from now on or Judgment will come down upon you prematurely. Don't fuck with me, Frank!

“Look at it this way, you rboss’s boss Mr. Nakamura used to be a psychiatrist. He, too, was brought against his will. But he’s not complaining! He’s getting the job done! And a certain former patient of his is being groomed to join us as well. She’ll be a great asset to the team, being a Receiver. Just as we chose you, Frank.”

“But why did you choose me?”

“That is our business alone. Now will you do as you are commanded?”

I paused, thinking it all over. It wasn’t right. What I’d already done wasn’t right. No more.

“No.”

Revelation 13

After the argument with my handler, I was called to Nakamura’s office. On the way, I saw that marble woman on the stairs. Calling to her, I started up them.

Not the smartest move, I admit, but I had to know what she was up to, why she had targeted me.

She started moving further up the steps, away from me. I skipped steps 2 at a time.

I was almost on top of her when my foot slipped.

I went over the railing.

They say I’m lucky to be alive.

My arm fractured above the elbow but my head is where the real problem is—bad concussion. Even some brain swelling. I may not get out of this without permanent damage to my brain.

This sucks.

EDIT: That guy in the bird mask I mentioned before, the one that healed me. I know more about him now. He’s known as the Plague Doctor. He generally causes problems like major epidemics and stuff. And the beak isn’t a mask. In short, he’s one of the supernatural motherfuckers. I thought for sure I was dead, especially after explicitly defying orders.

But he actually healed me again. Guess they think they need me or something.

Revelation 12

After another period of rest, like that I mentioned before, wherein I took a nap and watched TV (and of course, wrote on here), there was that fateful knock at the door.

The next target.

I was handed the papers.

It was Omar. Omar Friedman and a couple of others, but Omar was the important one.

I know Omar’s a shithead, but he did let me stay at his place to escape the stress of the marble woman, and when he (wrongly) assumed I was on drugs again, at least he showed an ounce of empathy and wanted to help me.

And in any case, he’s still a human being. The only two times I’ve killed someone, it was mostly an accident.

“I know these guys,” I said.

“What difference does that make? A job’s a job. You gotta do it.”

“No, I can’t. Forget it.”

“You’ll be reprimanded!” he warned.

“I don’t fuckin’ care! I’m not doing it!”

The handler left without another word.