Saturday, November 12, 2011

Rescue Time!

As I mentioned in this post, Konaa realized that something needed to be done about the 23s kids and recruited Shaun and I to help. So that's what we've been up to. Driving to Canada to brave a bigass forest of death. Sounds like something out of a comic book-maybe that's why Konaa was so hyped.

We met up with Konaa in town and took a little while to get the introductions and reunion shit over with, but none of us were really much in the mood for that. It was good to see him again, but what we were about to do kind of put a damper on things. I'll be honest, we had no plan for how to get out, we just knew we had to try. I thought there was a fair chance I was going to die there.
But, well worth it. These guys needed my help, and I wasn't going to leave them be. Not anymore.

After meeting up, we all headed for the forest. I was struck by how utterly normal the place looked. When I was a kid I used to love playing in the woods. Cam and I spent a lot of time there. Which, I guess is part of why...
Off the point..
The point is. The forest looked normal, not threatening or foreboding, and the only thing that made me uncomfortable is the fact that Canada is fucking cold.

One last kiss, then we headed in. It seemed normal from the outside, but the fuckery set in pretty fucking quick once we started onto the path. It went all dark and foreboding, and as we went on, the little noises started. Rustling in the brush, crunching of gravel. All to get us turned around and spooked.
Easy enough to ignore, after the first few times. We remembered the place is designed to fuck with us and kept going.
Next, we saw a person on the path. Just for a moment, he spooked and ran off when he saw us. Worked out fine for us, though. He led us to the right path to get to the camp-after passing through several types of hell, we made it to the area that was theirs. Sewn together tents strung up in trees made a roof, sewn together... I don't even know made a floor. It was big-way bigger than needed for eight kids, and there was too much stuff around, as well.
It was... a reminder. Of how many we had failed to save. How much these kids had already lost. More important on a practical level, it was empty. We set to searching the place, hoping that we weren't too late. Found a lot of random things about, all seeming to have their own sad stories, but no sign of life. Till Shaun found a set of dogtags.
Let me tell you, it's not the most promising start to a rescue when the first time you meet the people you're trying to save one of them has a knife to Shaun's throat. We got it sorted, though, with some introductions. The guy with the knife turned out to be Richard, the guy from the path turned out to be Lyle, Elliott and Alex were off to the side nearer to me, Suze... raged at them from a little further back, and there were three others whose names I'm sad to say I didn't get.
There was talking, a lot of calling us crazy, a lot of us acting tough and capable so they'd trust us to come with. Then... a flash of red. Red hair. Green eyes. Giant curled grin.
Writer.
Next thing we know, one of the girls grabs her torso and it just... falls out. Terrible and disturbing, obviously not fixable. I grabbed the kid closest to me-Elliott, as it turns out, and Shaun, and start to run.
We're not even out of camp when Richard starts yelling at us to stay still because 'Cheshire' as they called him (Which chilled my blood for other reasons) only went after moving targets.
Cue a discussion on our four parts-four because Elliott grabbed Alex's arm-on whether to run or stand. Meanwhile, Konaa was arguing with Richard and Suze and Lyle-none of them wanted to leave. I wanted to help, but there wasn't time. If I went to intervene, we might've all died. So we started running. Just in time for slendershit to come out of the forest behind us and start wrecking things.
The four of us were running hard and fast-not least because Writer was still following us- when Elliott starts telling us we're going the wrong way. Apparently he had a vague idea of where the exit was from his time with Harper, AKA the Collector. It was while we were trying to catch our bearings that Harper found us and started telling us to get out while we still could. He was... defending us. Drawing Writer's attention, telling Elliott how to get out.
I really... as much as I'd like to think otherwise, I don't think Harper made it out alive. But there's no questioning that he saved all our lives.
Elliott led us the rest of the way out, and we found Richard there, just outside the forest, laughing and crying with relief and probably a hundred other things. Konaa... tried to go back in-but Writer wouldn't let him back in the loop, so he just wandered around for a bit before we all cut and run.

I'm glad to be fucking out of there. It was... bad. We were in there for a couple hours, and... well, it was so... still and quiet and disturbing that I'm pretty sure it kicked my imagination into overdrive.  I saw things that... are impossible. It's all mind fuckery. This shit can't actually be real, there's just no way. But tricking us into thinking it is... well, that's easily done in such an environment. I can't help but wonder if perhaps that's all it ever was. Mindfuckery.
Not to take it lightly. That shit is more terrifying than any weapon, harder to resist than a good poison. It's just...If that's what it was, then I'm honestly amazed at how well Richard and Elliott are doing. How solid they seem, in spite of the horrors they've faced.

At this point, it's a race back to Hope-I'm hoping we can get home before the proxy kill squads find us. I expect Writer has some groveling to do for letting them escape-if this... whatever it was was important enough for all of this madness, I'm guessing he's going to get some serious flak for letting it fail. I'm more worried about random goons-not because we can't take them, but because I honestly don't want Alex and Elliott's first days out of the forest to be marked by fighting. They've done enough, they deserve to rest.

24 comments:

  1. To be honest, you guys are far too badass to die anyway.

    I'm... I'm glad you're alright, and sort of safeish.

    Get back here safe, ok?

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  2. Good, I'll tell Fitz then? He'll be glad we don't have to figure out how to kill dead people. That'd just be... difficult.

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  3. Thanks, Lucas.
    And Michael, I'll call him.

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  4. Wow. Congrats.
    So it's Richard, Alex, and Elliott who got out alive? 6%. Maybe 8%, if Walter counts.

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  5. ... Thanks, Ben. I certainly needed that reminder...

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  6. And this would be why our side is winning.

    Failing grade, Elaine. I expected better from you. After everything you have done in your life that you need to make up for... even more failures must be hard to swallow. Does it keep you awake at night, I wonder? Do you stare at the ceiling? Pitifully wondering who your fooling? Legs to your chest as you try to convince yourself it ISN'T all in vain? The burden must be crushing...

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  7. Y'know what Nightscream...actually @#!*% it, you're just making it too easy.
    All I will say is Elaine has probably accomplish far more in these last two months alone then you had in your whole @#!*% life (pre-proxy and present). I can't wait for the day when you are knocked from your high horse.

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  8. @Raggedyman, "wait can't", hm? That's interesting. Personally, I can't wait for the day when you actually learn to shut up. Everyone has that golden dream, I suppose.

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  9. Ah, I was hoping there'd be an explanation soon to what you were commenting on earlier. I'd have to say I'm still feeling kind of sick after getting that last comment from you... this didn't entirely make me feel better.

    But you got three people out... That's good. Great actually. By "rescue mission" standards as far as the Construct is involved anyways... This is better than I would have expected.

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  10. Gargoyle, this was up two hours before I made that comment.

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  11. It's with utmost regret, Lainey, that I must inform you that you've done far from "let my project fail." In fact, I dare say you've played a pivotal role in making sure everything goes according to plan~

    If you recall, Ms. Logan, you left one student behind. All we ever wanted from this project was one student, and you've been kind enough to leave us with him. The other 48 (and one professor) were simply gravy. Candidates in case our star player - dear Lyle - did not live up to our expectations.

    Why, you've even saved us the disposal of the remaining three~!

    I'm pleased to report that, with your little rescue mission and the carnage that followed, he has become perfect for what's to come.

    It's always a pleasure working with you~ <3

    xoxo
    Writer

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  12. Well would you look at that, this is... yes well, I'm not sure I have a single adjetive appropiate for my mixed feelings, let's just call it noteworthy. Yes, well done Elaine, I belive I shall now look into the other perspectives involved in this, I feel that this could be the start of something big, not just the end.

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  13. At least you saved who you could. That counts for something.

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  14. Well done on saving them.

    Sure, it didn't mean anything; sure, it was for naught; sure, they'll probably die anyway.

    But still, good job. My hat goes off to you.

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  15. Congratulations. Three is better than none. Three is a good number.

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  16. Heh. I almost feel more than a... Subject than a person when m'reading this.
    More than a little terrifying, if anything.

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  17. Not my intention Richard, I assure you.

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  18. We save who we can.

    Very few people have the courage to do what you do, Elaine. Be proud of that.

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  19. @Elaine - Have I ever mentioned that I have a lot of SHIT to READ?

    I thought I checked here the moment you commented and didn't see anything new(until hours later or the next damn day). So either I'm blind, under a perception filter, or you're fucking with me. Either way-! Fuuuuuuuuuuuuu-

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  20. I'm not fucking with you, check the timestamps

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  21. Let see...
    Nov 12, 2011
    *2:46PM - You comment on my blog; I check your site to see what you're talking about and find nothing new. Assume activities are still ongoing and it will be a while.

    *3:22PM - Your post goes live.

    *4:30PM - You comment on my blog again; I didn't think to look for updates, I was doing/reading something else.

    *5:29PM - You comment on my blog again; I'm confused by the wording, but potentially horrified by the implications, while also being absolutely certain that you had completely missed the point of my post and not knowing how to respond to it.

    *8:03PM - I comment here, indicating I finally found the damn thing.

    So, I acknowledge that you were not fucking with me and I should have went looking for answers again sooner, but since I didn't see anything the first time I skipped it until later assuming there'd be no news till tomorrow. I acknowledge it as a "my bad" on both our parts then... Moving along. -.-;

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