#17

You wakes up the next day of Your own accord. As such, You has a few moments with nothing but Your thoughts. You spend some time thinking about all that has happened, with the knowledge that You has to get back on the road right away. You heads out through the door, through the main salon room and into the kitchen, where You sees that Klaus is cooking breakfast.

“He's quite the chef,” Madame Levingt intones. “He also had some money in his pockets, I guess. He went down to the market and bought some sausage and cabbage and started turning out some sauerkraut and, well...sausage.”

You looks at the food. Not quite a breakfast, not the way You knows it, but good enough. And it looks masterfully prepared. You sits down and starts eating, with Klaus, between glances at the stove, watching expectantly but unhappily. You gives him a thumbs-up, which he shoots right back at You. You hasn't eaten since You started out, and suddenly that stabs out at You. Soon all the food is gone.

“We should head out right away,” You says.

“I planned on that. I packed some trail rations for the three of us, and put up a notice saying I'll be out of business for a few days. I'm sure the guards will be glad to see me gone. Everything important is secured—we can leave now if You wants.”

“Let's do that.”

Then You remembers to go down to the docks; the others accompany You. Levingt pays for a storage area for Your airboat, in case You'll ever need it again. With that, you head towards the New Cenabum West Gate, and set out.

The area around town has had its forests cleared, but there's still a huge perimeter of woods all about. Madame Levingt informs You that these forests were artificially put up to assist in the division of land between farms, but refuses to elaborate past that. You gets the impression she's censoring information for now so that You'll continue to trust her—which doesn't exactly bode well, but she's all You's got. What she says could mean pretty much anything. If the farms were separated by forests thanks to the government, what goal would that serve? A division of communication? And it doesn't make sense for them to have all that free land anyway. You always assumed that there were so many people in the world that there was little land to go around. Susie told you overpopulation began to become a problem in the 1950s, almost a hundred years ago, and perhaps earlier. So how could the Empire plant acres of forests to split up farm arbitrarily? Wouldn't there be whole cities in the way?

You realizes that despite her hospitality, perhaps Levingt can't really be trusted. The government took care of Susie and her dad for years, and despite his abrasiveness, her dad did know what he was doing. Okay, so You knows magic exists now—at least, that's the only way You can explain a fat old German man appearing out of thin air. (Maybe You's always believed in it. You knows now that You's always had such a small view of the world, and so honestly Your reaction is somewhat mild. Though of course You is always considering the possibilities.) But what if it is a bad thing? If magic-users—sorcerers, as it were—were able to generate power beyond that of the fuel, what's stopping them? Morality? A lack of gain? It doesn't match up, but You may be thinking too far in absolutes. You doesn't have all the puzzle pieces quite yet.

Levingt talks about life around town, knowing that You will fascinated by it; and of course, You is, and You shows no shame in doing so. Klaus says nothing and doesn't even appear to be listening. At random intervals, Levingt will begin to describe a food You's never heard of, much less eaten, only to produce it from the rations and give it to You. That's magic to You. Everything is delicious, even the simple things like cashews. It makes the journey a quicker one, which is good, given its relative length.

Levingt also tells stories. Some of them are just fairy tales, but You's never heard some of them before, and so they're rather interesting to You. She tells You stories of wolves and young women (while explicitly telling You it's all a metaphor), of lumberjacks, and of clever coyotes and spiders. The stories that make her light up the most are the ones about gods—she talks a lot about “Athena” and “Chick Ay Nuh”. Her happiness somehow brings joy to You, too.

Eventually, however, as the trip goes on, Your paranoia comes back up. You begins to question the motivation behind telling these stories. The way that they are being told does seem to indicate that she just likes telling the stories, but You knows You has Your suspicions. So, with an aside glance that You thinks is somewhat clever, You asks, “How about a story about yourself?”

She pauses. “Well, I was going to tell the story of Ananke's husband, but...why not?”

She looks up through the overhead canopy and her eyes almost seem to glaze over. You can't tell if it's from nostalgia—or from regret.

“I suppose there are plenty of reasons why not, really. Just as I suppose there are plenty of stories from when I was attempting to compile the All-Encompassing Sourcebook...”

“The what?”

“Handbook to the Multiverse.”

“I'm not sure what that is.”

“Hm, no, I suppose You wouldn't...does You know about how big the universe is?”

“Evidently not.”

“It's pretty massive. Now the thing is, there's a sort of half-scientific, half-mystical Kabbalistic superstructure to all of it, which is relatively unmapped. The A.E. Sourcebook was the project of a friend of mine, named the Old Man, was brought back to life by a man called the Administrator—not one of my friends, but a powerful man in himself, because at some point he captured a necromantic entity known as a...”

You cuts her off. “You like talking about things no one else understands, don't you?”

She smiles. “I thought the fairy tales were easy to digest. I even explained those for You!”

You feels impatient. “Is this story going to be understandable? Or are you going to insist on making yourself really complicated?”

“Probably the latter.”

“That makes you seem full of yourself.”

“I hope You's joking!”

“I'm not sure.” And You isn't, really.

She doesn't even look at You as she continues, though she is still smiling. “Does You at least want to know what sort of mystical spirit-thing he managed to capture?”

“Um. Sure.”

“Well, unfortunately, I don't seem to remember. I don't remember its precise True Name, that is, and if I don't remember that, there's no point in naming it at all. Though, as You probably learned during one of the stories back there, it's sometimes risky to remember True Names, and frankly, if there are more beasties like what my friend—or, wait, no, the Administrator—caught, I don't want them to show up. So somehow, the Old Man ended up stealing the beasty's armor...”

“Is this story linear?”

“What? The best stories aren't, darling! This is a true story, and as such, it's going to jump around quite a bit. We could always go back to fantasies, though, if You wants. But I told you, there were plenty of reasons why not to do this.”

“How much of this is an act? Like, seriously. Are you...trying to impress me?”

“How much of it is an act? Most of it. I am a witch. Did you expect me not to act?” She pauses, but then the smile drops. “Listen, You, I've been reading Your thoughts for the last several miles, and I know that You's suspicious of me, and You's right about many things—but I have to urge You to trust me on all this.”

You jumps back a bit, and then stops. She and Klaus also pause, and she turns back to face You.

“I'm sorry to have to do that, but You has an important trope on You—probably several. The important one is...”

“Hold on. I'm sorry, but...you were reading my goddamn thoughts?”

“Well, one of Your tropes is that You's...a character. In another story, and I'm not sure what story that is yet, but I'm sure it has to do with The Cascade. You's being written down, much more so than anyone else in this world. And I can read that. You can too, if You hones the APPLE. And the APPLE's super important. It's the source of Your trope, You. You's the 'Little Train Who Couldn't' who ends being able to get to Could. You's the disabled, somehow-crippled child who saves...”

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a crack of lightning sounds, and a burn mark appears on a nearby trees.

“Soldiers!” Levingt cries out. “You, get out of here! Take Klaus with You, and don't let him out of Your sight! I'll hold...”

You has a brief internal conflict over her orders; You realizes that some sort of strange mystic truth is upon You, and despite Your theories about Levingt You feels the sudden urge to fight with her, or for her.

Another bolt flies out, as three of the armored soldiers from town arrive. “You're under arrest!” one shouts. Then he grins. “Ha! Now that you're out of city bounds, witch, we've got you right where we...”

A fireball flies out of Levingt's hand, and the guard instantly crumbles to screaming ashes.

“Go!” she insists. And You and Klaus start running. Behind You, You hears sounds of a struggle, but also strange bursts of what must be energy—either from the guns of the men, or of a magical nature. And as You runs, not stopping until You nearly trips over the border of the road, You hear something catch up with You, breathing down Your neck. But it's not a soldier. It's confusion, and it's fear, and it's a lack of knowing, more than You's ever, ever known.

#16

You finds a bar in town pass the day watching the townspeople and the strange guards, ordering water. Initially, the bartender doesn't care as You drinks glass after glass, but You decides to take his indifference as a challenge and begins to drink as much water as You can. You'll show those city slickers how the farmin' folk drink water. People begin to become disturbed with the sheer amount that You consumes. You makes sure to laugh quietly under Your breath as You does it, to make sure to give them nightmares for years to come of the mysterious stranger who would just. NOT. STOP. DRINKING.

You's laughing at how dumb this all is. Naturally.

As night begins to fall, You begins to wander through town, trying to find Madame Levingt's Boutique, where the lady from the doll booth said she would meet You. After questioning some people, You manages to find it, where You sees that lights are on. You knocks on the door, and the doll booth owner opens the door.

“Come in, quickly.”

You does so, and finds Yourself in a place that seems completely alien to You; in fact, it is indeed just a hair parlor. You feels a little self-conscious, having never had a haircut in Your life. Your host seems to notice this and once more gives her knowing smile at You, though she says nothing.

“So,” You says then. “I'm guessing you're the Madame Levingt?”

“So I am,” she says. “Does my reputation precede me?”

You shrugs. “I haven't been here for long. I don't know about any reputations.”

“Well, that's probably for the best. Though I'm afraid You'll learn about my dark side when I tell You about Your doll. There's a reason so many soldiers were at my stall today. The Empire doesn't care much for...sorcery, these days.”

“Sorcery?” You asks. That's not all You's wondering about either. You was unaware that there was any sort of “Empire” in these parts.

“Oh, yes. You sees, my dolls are for sale to customers who are 'in the know' about their particular...talents. They have power...the power to snare and imprison someone's soul, for various purposes.”

You doesn't really believe her, and You suddenly wonders if she's a madwoman. You tries to remain calm and asks incredulously. “They trap someone's soul?”

“Well, electromagnetic neuroencephalogic rhythm patterns, but basically the same thing.”

“Um. How?”

“Magic. At least, fabricated electrically-active willpower. 'Wishful thinking', a lot of people would call it.”

You stares at her, and she laughs. “You doesn't believe me.”

“Of course not.”

“Well, I can prove it all to You. The reason that I was so surprised by Your doll was because it doesn't merely contain a man's mind—it contains his body, too.”

Your stare becomes even more skeptical, and You feels an eyebrow raised. “A whole body? I'm pretty sure that's not possible.”

“Theoretically, anything's possible with magic. You just have to be insane enough to pull it off.” She gestures towards You. “Hand me the doll.”

“Why should I?”

“Because, as I just mentioned to You, there is a man trapped in it, and he deserves to be freed. I assure You, even if I'm wrong, You'll get it back.”

You looks down at the semblance of the old man, and then hands it over.

She begins to wave her hand over it. “This gesture is just a cliché,” she says. “But it's one that works. Trope-magic is incredibly strong—though honestly my ancestors would've called the tropes 'loa', which is a fair enough name.” You becomes surprised when the lighting of the room seems to slightly chance. It's as if the light is bending towards the figurine.

“The cliché's working. And it's bringing in others.” She must be referring to the light.

“Alright...almost there...”

And then there's a flash of light. You gets knocked back, Your confusion briefly becoming panic. But when You looks up, there is a new person in the room. Dressed in his lederhosen, his feathered cap, and holding his mug of beer, the figure is now a living, breathing person. He seems more bored than anything else to be standing there, though You figures his expression is just a product of the shock of being restored.

Levingt turns to the man, looking bemused. “How do you feel?” she asks the man.

He merely shrugs.

“What's your name?”

He shrugs to this, too.

Nope, it's not the shock. You can see it now...he's just bored. And, it seems, irritable.

“I said, what's your name?”

The old man rolls his eyes, and lets out a sigh. “Ich bin Klaus,” he says.

It's Madame Levingt's turn to shrug, as she looks at You. “I guess his name is Klaus,” she elaborates.

There is an awkward pause in the room.

“So...I guess magic does exist after all.”

“Yes, it does. You seems to be a more believing lad than either of us first thought. Normally, the discovery of the reality of magic is more world shattering than it apparently was to You.”

You realizes that this is odd, but what she says is correct: You is a strange non-skeptical person, when the situation calls for it. It's a pretty variable thing, though. A malleable personality makes You more useful to Yourself and others in the long run, but You realizes that there might be some who might consider Your flip-flopping a breach of character.

Levingt continues. “I myself am curious as to where You got this doll.” She then holds it out to You. “It's worthless now,” she explains. “But you can still take it.” And You does.

“I got it in an old house on that road I told you about,” You replies. “The house was abandoned, except for some weird bats.”

“Curious...but You didn't find any evidence of it once being the home of a magician?”

“Nope. Just some old junk, and...” You suddenly remembers that there was a whole foosball table full of the figurines. “Well, shit.”

“What?”

You explains the nature of the table. She frowns at the thought of a whole foosball table full of trapped souls.

“I'll have to go check out that house, because I lied. I do indeed know where that road You talked about is, and I can help steer You onto it.”

Your face lights up, and You then hurriedly explains the predicament with Susie; in fact, in Your excitement, You describes everything that has happened to You so far. She smiles in reply.

“Though I don't know Your friend, I'll take You with me to the road, so that You can continue on the right path. I'll also stop by the prison, to see if there's anything I can do to help Your Lord Kletus. I'm not sure what can be done, because my magic is limited somewhat to the dolls...but it sounds like his peril is supernatural in nature.”

“And you're no normal merchant or hairdresser.”

“That's true, darling. In any case, I call myself an infiltrator rather than a merchant, and a power-thief rather than a hairdresser. And, I also call myself an occult adventurer. Though it's looked down on next to the power of the fuel, I do use my magic to help those in need. That's why I sell the dolls. Though they can be used for harm as well as helping.”

You wants to know how they can help, given that trapping one's body or soul in a doll seems like a purely evil gesture, but You decides not to ask of that for now, as You can ask during the journey. “What's the deal with the Empire?”

This time, Levingt frowns. “You doesn't know about the Empire?”

“I've never heard the word before, except for in some old books that Susie had around.”

She looks away from You, her expression stern. “I shouldn't be so surprised. The Empire has so divided the continent that word doesn't get very far anymore...” Then her face softens, as if she's forcing back a harsh memory. “I'm sorry. I'm just a crazy witch who hates the government. The laws against magic are strictly to prevent any sort of power from undermining the fuel. You doesn't want to hear my ideas, because they're just theories, and nothing else.” Then she tries to make herself seem more relaxed.

Klaus languishes awkwardly in the background. You senses something with Your APPLE, but You begins to realize that You's tired, and so You can't tell quite what it is.

“Anyway,” she says. “I'd like to take a look at that item from the cave You mentioned, if You doesn't mind! Maybe I can find out why Your friend was so keen on Your having it.”

“Oh, uh...yeah! Of course!” You pulls out the eight-sided stone, and hands it to her. She looks it over for a few seconds, concentrating on it. For a second, it looks as if perhaps it is magic. Her face becomes one of confusion, and she hands it back to You.

“I can't tell what it does, but I do sense a bit of a magical aura around it,” she says. “It's strange that she would see more importance in it than I do. But maybe Your friend is a bit of a magician herself...?”

You tries to envision Susie as some sort of wizard, but You can't do it. A grin breaks out across Your face. “Her stepdad would never allow it, being a government worker and all...” Then You remembers the note, and how the word “dad” was highlighted.

You begins to wonder about him. It was strange that the government is apparently referred to simply as “the Empire”, when he never used that term, and never seemed particularly fanatical about a government that would go about employing colorfully-garbed soldiers—ones that seem to hold a tight grip on the city. The use of such guards implies that either this town has or had a high crime rate—which seems somewhat unlikely, given how well put together it looks, and the fact that children were running about sans parents—or something else is afoot.

You is still young. Perhaps Your ideas about authority are misplaced; born out of a grudge for Your father taking a farm coalition trip the week of your ninth birthday, or Your mom embarrassing You a couple of times in front of Susie with bad jokes about the two of you dating. But still, You likes to think You's a smart enough person, and as such, a decent detective...and something seems off about this whole thing.

You takes the stone back and puts it next to the now-worthless doll of Klaus. Levingt didn't comment on Your statement while You was pondering privately (a good ponder); instead, she seems to be inspecting Klaus himself, who is irritated by her study. She gives up, and looks back at You when she sees You's no longer looking down at Your shoes.

“Let's rest up before we start traveling,” she says. You nods in reply.

“Is he coming with us?” You points at Klaus.

Klaus has previously zoned out, and points silently to himself. You nods. He glances to the side, and says nothing, but instead shrugs. You takes this as a yes.

Levingt shows You to a bed. And as You lies down to sleep, You realizes Your entire worldview has probably been shattered, thanks to an event that happened first crack out of the box in this city. You has a sudden suspicion concerning the contrived convenience of all this, but You wonders if that's just paranoid; and what's more, that's another thing to consider later, instead of now. You just needs to rest, and so You follows Klaus' suit and shrugs, before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

#15

You gets in Your airboat and begins to travel downriver. As the prison fades away into the background, You reaches inside Your pockets and again and feels for the flash drive taken from the computer area. It's a strange thing, certainly, and You still doesn't know what it does. But mysteries don't matter for now. You does need to find Susie, and fast. You trusts the Brotherhood enough to suspect that they were telling the truth when they said they didn't have her. And even if they did, she's smarter than You, and would've escaped, just as You had.

And theoretically, You has no reason to trust a group of mutated and maddened antisocial cultists—but the APPLE allowed You to study their grammar. Though of course their speech was fractured, they spoke with clarity in regards to truthfulness. The APPLE really does let You have a built-in lie detector, which is incredibly useful in pinches. It's let You worm Your way out of grounding before, by being able to sense the motives of Your parents and trick them in turn, even though honestly grounding wouldn't mean much to You anyway. Aside from the market, and the Brotherhood's prison, there's nothing really within a decent walking distance.

You remembers also that Your parents are in this too. You hasn't really thought about them that much in contrast to Susie, but honestly, the idea of them being lost is even more unfathomable than losing Your one and only friend. So You tries not to focus on it too much.

The homesickness kicks in further.

Judging from the sun, it looks to be around noon. This is good—You can get in a few good hours' travel before You'll have to rest. Even You even chooses to rest. You hopes that a city is within a few hours' travel—just as You hopes that the car battery will have enough fuel to take You as far as You needs to go.

You won't get distracted this time, either. One mistake was enough.

You sails on uneventfully for several hours. This leads You to worry, as You's probably far off the intended trail for now. But You's gonna stick to the plan. Find a town, get directions. Maybe get a car if at all possible. You'll figure it out on the fly if You has to. It won't be easy, but You knows that You will get it done.

Eventually, it turns out that once again, You's in luck! The outline of a cityscape appears on the horizon. The tall buildings are even taller than the prison, and that prison was probably the tallest thing You'd ever seen in Your life. It's a marvel to Your eyes, and You briefly loses control of the boat in Your shakeup. (Though not enough to cause another accident. You's not stupid enough to repeat that twice.) You pulls the boat into a canal that runs through the city (actually just a continuation of the river), and people stop to gawk at Your strange mode of transport. You ignores them. You then pulls up to an official-looking man standing at a dock in the canal, and ask where You can park the boat. He gestures lazily over to a decrepit-looking platform where several other poor-appearing or makeshift sea vessels have been tied. With no other choice, You maneuvers over there and docks. It doesn't look likely that anyone will try to make off with the ship, but nonetheless You takes the car battery and, despite its weight, tries to conceal it on Your person.

Now it's just a matter of finding someone willing to help You. You has no money, but there has to be someone around here who would be charitable enough to give You aid without pay. You decides to look around, but the impressiveness of the city causes You to walk rather slowly.

Everything in town is carved out of massive blocks of cream-colored stone. The streets are paved, and it looks like the ground has been cut open to allow the river to complete several canals, which are sailed in a way that looks rather casual, rather than livelihood-based. The entire town seems prosperous and happy, at least to someone like You. Massive towers that be parts of churches loom over everything, and unknown flags billow everywhere in the wind. The air seems clean even as the canal boats consume fuel, and there's a smell of fruit (something You's rarely ever eaten) all around. There are children playing, the first children You's seen since You was a boy. The sun is shining, and You feels a relaxing flow of happiness drain onto Your bones.

You begins to walk around, regretting the lack of money; You's seemed to have docked in the merchant district, and what they sell here is much more exquisite-looking than whatever they had at the markets back home. You's seen a few images of these things in books, things like pears, bananas, and strawberries. You has to restrain Yourself by using the knowledge that someday, You could return and buy these things.

As You continues walking, You begins to notice several oddly-garbed men and women patrolling the area. Wearing some sort of armor, which is covered with fuel-tubules (indicating that some aspect of the armor is powered), they appear to be soldiers or guards. Their armor is in the same colors—maroon, cerulean, and gray—as the flags flapping overhead. It is not particularly practical looking or even ornate; though it does look protective, and it does settle the dispute of allegiance to this city or region. They are carrying large guns, which make them pretty extraordinary. They must be the law enforcement of this area—You makes sure not to tangle with them.

You then notices something else—a woman is managing a stall which seems to be selling none other than foosball figurines! Evidently, You isn't the only one to find them so fascinating. The one in Your pocket has haunted You all this time, for some reason, and perhaps it means something for You to have found this stall.

You approaches the booth, and the lady smiles pleasantly at You. “How can I help You today?”

You decides to gather some quick information about the area before trying to figure out the silly matter of Your fascination. You clears Your throat and says, “What town am I in?”

Her smile widens. “Why, You is in the city of New Cenabum. You's got to be new around here.” Then she blinks, but her smile doesn't fade. “Oh, You must have an APPLE. I'm so sorry, darling.”

You is pleased that she's trying to be friendly. “It's no trouble. Um, I'm currently lost, however. I'm trying to relocate a road close to an old prison. I, uh, realize that's vague as hell, but do you know of anything like that?”

“The old prison? No, I'm afraid I don't know anything about that. The only thing I really know about is these old dolls. Unless we're talking about dolls, I don't think I can help You much.” She winks at You, but not in a way that makes You feel uncomfortable.

“Well, actually, I was going to ask about the dolls. You see, I have one myself...” You pulls out the figurine from Your pocket. “I, uh, got it from a foosball table, though. Do you know anything about it?”

She looks at it for a little bit, at first with a touch of indifference. Then, her face shifts into curiosity, and then into surprise.

“This...” she whispers. “This is important. Very important. I...” She seems overwhelmed with a number of feelings before pulling You in closer.

“You has to come visit me to talk about this in private. You can find me by night in an old hairdresser's office. 'Madame Levingt's Boutique' is the name. We have to talk beyond the reach of the guards—the Empire isn't going to...” Then she looks behind You. One of the guards is approaching the stall.

“Go.”

You does, hiding the doll on Your person as You does so. This does seem important, and You doesn't want to get caught if there's something illegal about all this. You's no stranger to defying authority, having done so against your parents' wishes. You feels an urge to solve the mystery of this doll at all costs, and if this guard is going to stop You from doing that, You doesn't want to deal with him.

The guard talks briefly to the woman—presumably Madame Levingt—but leaves without incident when she tries to sell him a doll. She then winks at You again when she sees You looking, and then begins to ignore You entirely.

#14

You looks over to the left and sees that there is in fact a thick door apparently leading out into the prison courtyard. If there is some sort of malevolent presence haunting this prison—which seems somewhat likely, to be honest, given the evidence in the journal—You doesn't want to remain here for very long. You's never been big on coercion, but You's built up quite a bit of muscle and can probably brave a few cultists if it means getting Your stuff back. And it is still possible that Susie is here. Maybe Your parents, too! So You's got to do something.

Realizing that You's completely unarmed, You walks through the door anyway, onto a balcony overlooking the courtyard.

It's worse than You thought.

The courtyard is filled with rubbishy tents and scattered broken machine shards. Like the computer tower up there, it looks like once-functional devices were torn apart in a wild rage by the cult after they went mad. It's a total mess. Then again, the cultists themselves are total messes as well. Garbed in the shredded remains of formerly bright colored cloaks, they seem to have undergone some sort of transformation (unless this is what they somehow looked like normally). They all have enormous protruding brows and cruel faces—and huge muscles. They more resemble atavistic cave-beasts than humans. Ironic, given that they once made slurs against people with your mutation.

You manages to keep control when You sees that it'll be nigh impossible to fight these guys. Instead, You gets a very quick idea...

“I am one of the ghosts! Do not move or I will kill you all!”

You do this while holding Your shirt in front of Your face, to make it look like You doesn't resemble the prisoner they captured. It's an incredibly stupid trick, unbelievably so, but You hopes that it sells. Most of those assembled flinch back, but suddenly, between blinks, something smacks in the wall next to Your head. It's Your kitchen-knife spear. It missed by just a few inches.

“Death to the ghosts!” shouts a tall man. You has reason to believe that this must be Lord Kletus, the Brotherhood's leader. The others begin to hoot and stamp around at this cry.

“Wait!” You shouts. They do stop, briefly, even as You pauses to consider how ludicrous it is that Your “disguise” worked. “I only warned you all because I have decided to rebel against my phantom brothers. Though I'm on your side, I'm just trying to protect myself. The same as you.”

They all grunt, but don't decide to rush You. Some of them get a look of recognition in their eyes, as if they know that this obscured-face stranger is almost bloody identical to their recently-trapped prisoner, but they do nothing. Whatever's changed them has divorced them from reality almost entirely.

“You have some possessions from a recent prisoner, and I want them given to me. And I also want to know if you're keeping any female prisoners that I haven't noticed.”

“We...have no women trapped here.” You sees that they're unarmed, and afraid as well. Which is basically where You wants them, even though it's not a very nice mood to set on other people. “This...Yours?” They point to a large pile of objects, which You does indeed recognize as Yours.

“Yes, I believe that's mine. I also know that the prisoner appeared in your territory on a boat. Do you have that as well?”

They nod, and point beyond the enclosure wall of the prison. “Out there.”

You nods, and begins to walk down. “Thank you.”

They give You a wide berth as You walks amongst them. You picks up all of Your items, and makes sure that the mysterious foosball figure and the runestone are in there. They are, and You slips them into Your pocket once more. You looks up, and the former Lord Kletus is standing beside You. He's looking at Your shirt, pulled stupidly over Your nose, with a look of fear. You also briefly feels fear, however—because in his eyes, there's a man trapped in a form which is no longer human.

You then decides to speak. “If there's a chance, I'll come back and help you.”

He suddenly seems shaken that one of the ghosts is making such a gesture, but he then nods. “Thank You.”

There is a moment of genuine warmth between the two of you.

He points over to two large men by the door. “Let You out.”

Uh oh.

He blinks. “Let You...You...out. You...h̶i̶m̶...HIM...”

He looks at You. “You is an apple!”

The crowd begins to hoot and heat up. Kletus yanks down Your shirt from Your face. “Not ghost...apple! But still must die! Death to the apple!”

“Death to the apple!” they all shout. You suddenly lashes out with the spear, holding it against his throat.

“Stay back!” You shouts. “I'm warning You seriously this time. And, I was serious about helping you. I read your journal. I know about the engine...”

“He knows of the engine!!” Kletus shouts, but You pushes the spear further into his flesh before anything goes any further.

“...and I know about the Ultimate.”

“The Ultimate?”

“Yeah. I know that they both did bad things to you. I want to make sure that they don't threaten the world again. The only thing is, I don't know what they do.”

Kletus' face is again shocked when he realizes You's been sincere about wanting to help him. Then, his expression relaxes into a gentle sadness. Tears well up in his eyes. “Please...don't make me talk of them...”

“What do they do?”

The tears begin to drip down his face. “Don't...don't...” Then he sighs. “The fuel.”

You pulls the spear back a little.

“Destroy the fuel.”

You stares at him for a little bit, thinking it over. The fuel has been recurring in a negative context recently, but it's so critical to everything. You's harvested it Your whole life, You's been dependent on it Your whole life. It's...hard to just throw it away, just like that. And since this beginning, these people have just been some random fringe group...

You'll have to consider this later, alongside many other things. You puts away the spear, and Kletus relaxes and does nothing. You merely nods at him once more and walks out.

The airboat is there, in good condition. It's on the river, but You knows the river no longer runs parallel to the trail. You considers asking the Brotherhood members where the road is, but You deems it hopeless. You is lost, and the only way to get back on track is to find a town or a city and ask for directions. It'll be tough, being an apple and all, but...

Suddenly, from the prison courtyard, there's a horrible shriek. Then, several screams afterward. You looks back, and sees the group begin to run away from the balcony. You runs back in there, still clutching the spear. A strange and unsettling sight greets Your eyes.

This time there is a figure up on the balcony, and it does seem to be some sort of ghost. It's hard to look at, but it looks like a man, one draped in darkness. The edges of his figure squiggle and shift, as if he's nothing more than a summer mirage. You realizes then why the group fell so easily for Your shirt-trick; this figure lacks the bottom half of his half. Shadows enshroud it, but the skin around it seems dark with blood. It just doesn't look right at all, and You feels Your body go cold looking at it.

It looks up and the shriek rings out again. Everyone around You is in a panic, crying about the ghosts. You's about to run for it too until something happens.

The figure looks directly at You.

It's not a mere glance, or part of a larger survey of everyone in the yard. It's directed at You, and it's a look full of malice and knowing. You feels even colder, so cold in fact that You almost feels like You's going to faint. The eyes shudder with that “multidimensional” effect, and then suddenly, with another heart-starting scream...the thing vanishes.

There is then a sudden calm, and You feels only a brief sense of terror...and then that melts into sympathy for these poor people.

These ghosts are real, and they've been genuinely haunting them for years now.

You doesn't know why they move, at least at first. But looking at all of them, You knows that this is their home—and though it's their terror and madness that binds them here, they can't leave it. You had to leave home too, and even though it's a creeping sickness, You knows that it hurts. Thinking somewhat more selfishly, You does hope that Your journey is a brief one.

Lord Kletus calms down, and breathes heavily. He looks at You again, and once more there is a chord struck. “Go,” he says.

And so You does.

#13

You feels particularly sassy with the last line of that previous entry. Your good humor must be returning. This place doesn't encourage it.

You begins to walk down the hallway, choosing to go left in an almost totally arbitrary manner. All of these cells are empty, as previously observed. They look like they have been for some time now. Some of the cells include beds, and You realizes that Your cell didn't have one; some cells must have been stripped for parts. Yet all of them still have locks on them. Whoever owns this prison is still using it, though sparingly. You's never heard tell of a prison in the area, though Your parents did always travel in the opposite direction You was heading, to get to town, and the market. Susie and her stepdad never went this way either, but everyone always did go hush-hush when talking about this area. Perhaps it's this prison that they didn't want to talk about.

You suddenly comes across an unpleasant thought. Perhaps Susie is somewhere in the jail. But that sounds somewhat ridiculous; the attacker that drove her off was some sort of monster, one that tore your houses apart. But then, could the monster be a servant of someone else? She did have enough time to right a note to You, and as You knows, the note was partially encoded. She didn't feel safe to write openly, meaning that someone or something intelligent was monitoring her; perhaps taking her away.

That's when You remembers that You had that strange runestone from the cave. Susie said it was incredibly important, and now, You doesn't have it. You'll need to recover it quickly, before You gets out of here for good. You hopes that whoever took it didn't see it as a weapon and had it destroyed.

You begins to walk quite a bit faster now.

Eventually, however, You sees the cells end. Instead, there's a staircase leading upward. With few other cases, You takes it.

The stairs lead up into a large booth that seems to overlook something. The windows are all fogged by dust and decay, and can't be seen through, even when wiped. And, to boot, they're all intact. Yet You can see vague shapes moving around out there, with some of them resembling fire. You can also hear what seem to be people talking, but You knows You can't always trust that sort of noise.

The booth has a couple of strange devices in it on desks. You realizes suddenly that they're computers. You's never seen one before—not even Susie's stepdad could afford one, or if he could, he never bought one. These, too, look like they haven't been used in some time. You tries what You believes is the power button (the big circular one), but nothing happens. There are some fuel-capsules on them, but You sees then that they're empty. You frowns briefly on the concept of the computers having no power but the locks being kept up, but You knows that You can just swap out the capsules on some of the locks for the empty ones on the computer. Then You can access it, as best as You can, and maybe find out what's going on here. If the people (or what You believes to be people) outside are those who have trapped You, You doesn't want to resort to meeting them just yet.

You quickly unscrews some of the capsules from the locks and brings them back to the computers. There are three in all, but You sees right away that the second one, the one in the middle, has actually had a hole punched into it, possibly through some sort of bludgeoning weapon. It doesn't bode well, really. None of this does. But You manages to boot up the remaining two computers, and finds that their monitors run off of the same power supply as the tower—and that neither have a password. Would that be a sign of stupidity, or of confidence?

Though You's never used a computer before, You does know what files are and how to work a mouse and keyboard. It looks like most of the data on both units has been wiped; but there are text files, one on each. The first reads “PROMO”; the other, “JOURNAL”. You opens up the former, and begins to read:

“Welcome, friend!

“So, you've decided to join the Brotherhood of Kletus! Well done, good fellow! Despite our name apparently reducing the possibility of our members being beyond male, the 'Brother' hood in fact accepts people of any race, creed, orientation, gender, sex, or disability! All are welcome to follow the teachings of Lord Kletus as he instructs us on the way to spiritual grandeur in these times of corruption and hardship. Remember, penalties are harsh, but only because we care about your safety and well-being!

“Lord Kletus has decreed that the world of 'the fuel' is evil! Though we use the fuel, we are constantly attempting to contact 'the other side' in an attempt to look for alternative energy to lead us away from the poisonous touch of this false messiah. Too many people in this modern world are dependent on the fuel, even in the face of other possibilities, such as diesel, solar power, and wind energy. No one even knows where 'the fuel' comes from! Some believe it to be synonymous with gasoline—but gasoline cannot be grown or processed in the way we harvest 'the fuel'! So what is this stuff? Could it be linked to the presence of Earthly demons?!

“The fuel must be defeated as swiftly as possible, and so we need your help! However, some punishments must be put in place. Please consult the list of rules and regulations that can and will result in imprisonment when broken, located in the secondary brochure provided to you. The on-site prison is primarily to be used against trespassers, but we will also make sure that any rule-breakers spend some time in it as well! So please, be safe, and be smart.

“We hope you find your stay with the Brotherhood most agreeable.”

That would explain Your capture. Presumably You drifted downriver into the territory of this “Brotherhood of Kletus”, and they placed You in their prison as punishment—or the river was already in their territory, and You just happened to make it easy for them. Yet at the same time, it seems irregular that they would fail to keep up their prison on a consistent basis if it stored some of their own people as well.

You finds it incredible that such organizations could exist. There's a tiny thrill of adventurousness in You, but then You remembers that this could prove to be a deadly situation; You doesn't know if these cult members are hostile beyond putting dissenters and trespassers in jail, but You doesn't want to find out firsthand.

You decides to open the journal. Immediately, You can tell that random parts of it have been deleted, and done so haphazardly. It seems random, but that doesn't make the atmosphere any calmer.

“8/16/65 – [A good chunk of space following this date is blank, indicating sloppy erasure.] This must be stopped, and stopped quickly. I am the leader they need. All I require is a soapbox to make my point from.

“9/1/65 – I have managed to purchase the old prison. It was cheap enough—no one even remembered its name anymore, really, and frankly, I don't either. It's the prison's courtyard that I want, but the structure itself can be used for naysayers as well. I'm not sure if this role is for me, but I can embrace it over time. After all, who else is going to do this?

“9/10/65 – Woke up today. (Been sleeping in one of the larger prison cells.) I thought I heard something, but it must've just been a rat. There are some of those in here. This place has been kept up well, but there are still some holes in it which it could've snuck through.”

You pauses in Your reading for a little bit. This must be the journal of “Lord Kletus”. Presumably, this is his personal computer, whereas the other one You checked out is for more professional files. The other one could have contained...maybe some surveillance protocols for the prison? You doesn't know, but it doesn't look like it matters now. You continues reading, noting that much seems to have been deleted between that last post and the next.

“4/26/66 – The Brotherhood thrives! We live, and we conquer. Ha, ha. I must be slipping more easily into this role, with garbage like that. No, we aren't all that fanatical—not yet, at least. We are making quite a bit of progress in terms of developing a new engine. Some of our senior recruits—who are honestly more like instructors, now—can't quite explain how it works in a way that makes sense to me. But at the same time, it seems to be generating a slight modicum of power, and so it's worth it. We have to use fuel to start it, but we'll overcome that in time. All I have to say, is that I have strong hopes for the future.

[Text missing.]

“7/4/66 – I've decided to start sleeping in a tent alongside the others. I'm going to make sure we clean this place up as usual, but only during the day. I don't like being here with the noises at night.

“7/13/66 – Sleeping much better now. I feel greatly restored, and the summer sunlight definitely abets that.

[Text missing.]

“11/15/66 – The engine generates more power! We grow greater by the day, and our conquest grows closer still!

“12/1/66 – We have encountered some strange errors with the engine. We shall study it over the next few days. We cannot allow our glories and victories to be in vain.

[Substantial amount of text missing]

“1/13/68 – The ghosts of the jail have pursued us into the courtyard. It is the engine's fault. New acolytes must not be allowed to repeat the mistakes of the past. Harsher conditioning and initiation is required. Conscripts may be necessary. All betrayals and all references to the engine are to be punished with three nights with the ghosts. Our wits grow sluggish and tired, and it is all due to the fuel. DEATH TO THE FUEL. DEATH TO THE GHOSTS. AND DEATH TO INTRUDERS AND TRAITORS.

“5/20/68 – A trespasser was found in on the encampment road! He was an apple, and we know apples wouldn't exist without the hated fuel. He embodies its DISGUSTING INFECTION. Threw him in jail, but he died within hours. Some think we wounded him throwing him in, but we couldn't have. We are PURE. GHOSTS MUST HAVE DONE IT. DEATH TO THE GHOSTS.”

You pauses briefly to reflect on what must have been the murder of a fellow “apple”. There's a sort of solidarity between all of You, though none of You must meet regularly or share friendship. You's heard the theory that you wouldn't have the APPLE without the fuel; but it's never been weighed as likely.

You continues reading.

“9/14/68 – Barely know how to use this now. Been long time. Words seem sluggish n tired. Ghosts? Are they with me? Can't use this. They'll watch. They'll know. Know of the Ultimate...Ultimate...what? The Ultimate. Hidden. Hidden in the ghost box. Plans for engine made it into ghost box. KILL THE GHOST BOX. KILL THE GHOSTS. Afflicted me with Evil. Lost mission. Angry.

[There is a gap, but not a large one.]

“10/31/69 – Came back. Wanted to neg o she ate. Leave us alone please please. Stop haunting us I am not you NOT YOU NOT YOU NOT YOU NOT YOU. PLEASE. PLEASE.”

It ends there. You feels a slight shudder, and with good reason. Something has gone horribly wrong, and that strange engine described—but also not described—opened up something...evil. The cultists, who must be Your captives, have all gone mad; worse still, their condition may have intensified, as that last post was written almost a year ago. And You'll have to go through them to get out of here. Plus, they may not be the only that You'll have to fight to escape.

You gets down under the desk and starts to take the fuel-capsules from the computers You powered up. There's nothing more they can do for You now, so You might as well allow Yourself to have some spare batteries. It is here that You looks at the broken unit. It must've been the one that Kletus (or whoever was writing those last few entries) called the “ghost box”, containing plans for the “engine” that caused this whole mess. Well, that invention will be lost to eternity. But wait...what's this...?

You reaches into the crushed tower and pulls out a flash drive. It's an older one, and as such, worth even more. But You doubts You'll sell it, despite the temptation. It could contain some incredibly important data. It could contain the engine plans, though You doesn't know why Kletus would want to back those up. Sentimentality, possibly. It could also be “the Ultimate”, whatever that is, if that's not the same thing as the engine.

You notices the drive won't work in the surviving computers. The ports on those are newer, post-USB ones. This broken tower has the right jack, but obviously, You won't be getting anything out of it.

You doesn't pause this time to consider all of the implications here. You can do that later. For now, You just needs to get Your stuff, and then get out of here. Susie is still out there, somewhere.