Proud to be a Coward
Act I: Chapter 9
I began drawing. I first drew a figure as tall as me, posed as if he's ready to fight with a gun. I added eyeballs to the head and made sure they'd be a perfect fit to the sockets. I covered their eyes at first with small little contacts that shade the whole eyeball. And I repeated this process four times. I had to be cautious of the amount of ink I used. I had to stab myself each time I ran out of ink, and the more I did, the more concerned I was about losing too much blood. I was dizzy, and my head ached, but I pushed on.
"Hello?" I whispered through the walkie-talkie.
No response…
"Listen, back-up's here, and if you're still alive, send me a Morse code or something through the radio receiver." I was ready to leave right then and there if there was no response.
The radio then started beeping and buzzing. Although I had no idea about Morse codes or what they said; unfortunately, someone lived. Means I have to go save them now…
Okay, let's do this. I began the first phase of my plan immediately. I tossed multiple smoke grenades and ran in, eyes closed while carrying two figures of myself I made. I placed them in a way that would lead to the corner of the room. I didn't want to risk anything, so I didn't bother opening my eyes, and instead, I just waited until I bumped into a wall to find out where the corner was.
After finally placing each model, I began the second phase of my plan. I attached the contacts of the eye sockets to the string before running in, which means after I placed all the models down properly, I could pull the strings one by one, tempting Tago to kill them in the order I want him to.
And so I began. With each snap of my creation, I can vaguely tell where Tago is. I kept on pulling, making sure I got the order right. And finally, I reached the final string.
I pulled the final string and walked in, still with my eyes closed but with the hand mirror held out like a gun. I could hear Tago screaming cries. I knew his exact location. I could hear him thrashing around in a panic. I focused the mirror on him, and from then, I knew, 'I can open my eyes.' I usually approach all my thoughts with an amount of skepticism, but this time, I was confident.
There he was, Tago, a tall yet frail creature. To think I'd be able to describe his facial features before that journal's author, the researcher guy, could. Other than being tall, he had extremely long, haggard hair, one that covered the majority of his face. It was still visible tho, those sunken eyes, that elongated nose with a monstrously high bridge, a sharp chin, and a hidden jawline to go with his skinny body.
His eyes were dead set on the mirror, as if he was judging himself, hating what he was seeing. He had his hands covering some of his face, but not as to hide it, I don't believe. He's that shocked, he dislikes it so much that his reaction is to touch his face and feel if it's even real. His mouth was wide open, shaking, it looked like his jaw could drop lower, low enough to bite off someone's head.
As I kept the mirror on him, I scanned the room, looking for the guy who sent me the code. And there he was, as expected.
"Hey, kid," he said, with a raspy, sore voice, " you saved our asses." There, the bleeding Echo lay flat on the ground. Oddly enough, he's the only one here.
"Where's the rest of them?"
"That mirror you're holding... It sends whoever looks into their reflection home."
"So… I sent everyone home on accident? Does that mean they're all still alive?" I tried acting like I was anticipating a good outcome, but truthfully I didn't care as much as I wanted to, which makes me feel like an asshole… It's cause of the syringe, I told myself.
Echo only gave me a nod in response, but I knew it was bullshit. Not all of them survived. Right on the floor next to the counter, there was lying a man wearing a vest very similar to the one the Echo was wearing. I remembered Chief Donald's cries for Jin and processed the situation accordingly.
"Why're none of us getting transported?" I asked, both genuinely and in an effort to change the topic.
"Well… I suppose none of us has a home." He said in a joking, almost bright tone.
So I was lucky… Staring into Tago, I thought if this guy just had a home, I would've just sent him home… Well, not like that'd be awful either; the main goal was to save the soldiers. Thinking about it now, shouldn't I still have a home? I guess it depends on whether or not I recognized it as such, or if it I'd been asleep for that long. I guess even this mirror has its conditions to work.
"How'd you even get your hands on that, kid?" He asked.
"I heard one of your buddies' voices on the truck. And while trying to find a way to respond, I found these."
"So, while trying to steal our shit after running away, you found those and heard Jaime's voice, huh?" Echo replied, chuckling as he coughed up blood visible on his tinted helmet.
"Hey, at least I came back," I replied in a joking manner(I was technically also prepared to steal tho).
"Heh, yeah, thanks for that, kid, " He replied, giving a light chuckle. I'm pretty sure he realized how I've changed. I'm calmer, and I'm not the people-pleasing parasite right now. I'm not the kid who ran away cowardly… I need to fix my expression.
"Hold this for me." Echo enduringly crawled towards me to hold the mirror while I made a stand that could hold the mirror while we escaped; thankfully, it didn't take much blood. I tried recycling some of the blood I used for the mannequins, but it didn't work. I could feel myself getting dizzier and weaker, almost close to fainting the more I used the pen. But I had to stay awake.
Once I finished creating the stand and setting it up, we officially captured Tago. Echo and I headed downstairs, with Echo needing my support to walk. I gladly acted as a nurse, of course.
"Be honest, kid. Did you inject yourself with the yellow syringe?"
I was surprised by his question, seems like the effects have worn off. Goodbye commando, hello parasite. "Not on purpose. It fell on me after trying to fight back the pen."
"What do you mean fight back the pen?"
"Well, for some reason, the pen possessed my arm, I think. It stabbed my left index finger too."
"I see. It seems the pen chose you. 'Grats, kid!" he sounded warmer, almost similar to Chief Donald. As if he was happy for me.
"Chose me? Art I worthy of thou pen?" I felt high at that moment, I'm guessing it was because of blood loss.
"Yes," He chuckled, "some artifacts are like that. They're picky about who they want their wielder to be. After all, with the right wielder, artifacts do give you the opportunity to ascend as if you're a God yourself. That one you're holding made someone mad. The pen tried controlling him until he bled out. We made those syringes to try to prevent the pen from controlling its users, it supposedly gives the intaker their 'strongest' mental state, but the researchers who sold it to us didn't seem too trustworthy. Still though, we gave it a shot. Figured if they were in their 'strongest psychological state,' they should be able to overcome the syringe's control. But when one of our men tried it, it only led to him getting depressed for a couple of days, then pen taking control of him again and him killing himself. He lasted longer, but, it wasn't the result we were hoping for. So in the end, we couldn't really figure out the pen's criteria, or if the syringe was actually legit or useful."
"I see…" I stared at the pen, which I was hoping he'd give me in exchange for saving his life and completing their mission for them.