Thursday, July 18, 2013

#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.

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