I was still laying on the forest floor. I stayed motionless for a few moments, so I doubled the speed of the video. A dozen seconds later, I started to move on the ground, my eyes still closed. I slowed down the video to its normal speed and took note of the timestamp. 1:32 PM. I’d woken up at half past four, so there were over three hours of events that I didn’t remember. I sat up, looking around. Then, I stared directly at the camera, as if I could see it. The irises of my eyes were a fiery red. That terrified me. My eyes were normally a deep brown. I climbed to my feet and looked down at the ground. Jay’s body was gone. All that was left was a nearly invisible outline of his body. I started to walk out of the frame, so I typed some things on the keyboard so the video would switch to wherever I was.
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The video flickered, fading a bit. “No, no, no,” I whispered. It came back to its full brightness. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding in. I walked along the forest path, back to Boulevard. I headed inside the first store I came across. The video switched to one from inside the store. I walked up to the counter and demanded something from the employee. I clicked on the keyboard, hoping to find a way for captions to appear. After a moment of struggling, I figured it out. In a dark font, words appeared on the bottom of the screen.
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A pen. Two sheets of paper. Two envelopes, the captions read. A second passed before the next caption appeared. Sir, this is a repair shop. We don’t sell pens, paper, and envelopes. I banged my hands on the counter. Now. You don’t want me to get angrier. I can make bad things happen when I’m angry. The bewildered employee hurried to hand me what I asked for. I turned and left the store. I sat down on a bench outside and started writing on the papers. Those must be the letters. A few minutes later, I folded the letters and slipped them into the envelopes. I folded up the envelopes and pushed them into my pocket, along with the pen. Then I got up from the bench and started walking again.
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I walked off Boulevard, down a street I recognized. I walked up to a house I recognized. My house, on my street. The screen went dark as I entered the house. “What happened?” I asked. Maggie shrugged, but Sammy had an answer. “There are no cameras inside private residences. You have the video following you, but there is no video with you in it at that moment.” A few seconds later, the screen turned back on to an image of me leaving the house with Logan. What had I told Logan for him to leave with me? The captions turned back on. Come on, Logan. We need to hurry. Logan nodded, and both of our paces quickened. Where were we going? The camera followed us as we walked down Boulevard towards the Brick. Logan and I climbed into an elevator and pushed the top button. Floor fifty. There was only one thing on floor fifty, a thing I’d never seen before in my life. Floor fifty was home to… The Elite.
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We were standing in a metal box-like room, with no windows or visible doors aside from the elevator. I wrapped a hand around Logan’s shoulder, forcing him forward. Come on. They’re waiting for us. Logan looked panicked. What do you mean, Elias? Who’s waiting for us? The captions went blank again. We took a few steps forward and a panel of metal slid aside, revealing a dark area. We walked through the opening in the wall, and the panel slid closed behind us, locking us in. A single light turned on, revealing an antique wooden desk, lit by a small lamp. There was a single piece of paper on the desk. I paused the video and zoomed in on the paper. The writing was still too small to read. I started the video again, my hands shaking. I pulled the pen out of my pocket. Sign it, I commanded. Logan took the pen and approached the desk tentatively. He took a moment to read the paper before looking back at me. Elias, are you insane? Why would I sign this? Do you even know what this is? I glared at Logan, my gaze filled with hatred. Do it. Now. Logan looked back at the paper. What’s wrong with you? I’m not signing this. Listen: By signing this paper, you give permission to be used as a test subject in Operation Lost Ones. You give full consent to any and all experiments that need to be run on you. Compensation will be anonymously given to any living relatives in the event of your death. While death rates in this program are low, they are not zero. You will take on that risk if you choose to take part in the program. Elias, you can’t be serious if you think I’m going to sign it.
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I paused the video again to allow this new information to sink in. “Operation Lost Ones. I’ve heard that before,” Maggie said. I nodded. So had I, but I couldn’t place my finger on it. Then I remembered. “Mr. Franklin told us about it. It was the operation that created the demons.” My eyes widened in realization. “Did I try to turn Logan into a demon?” There was a heavy feeling of dread in my chest, knowing that I’d tried to do something so terrible to Logan. Sammy sighed. “Only one way to find out.” He reached over and pushed play. I took a few steps toward Logan. Sign it. Now. He shook his head. No. There’s nothing else to it. I’m not signing it. I placed a finger on Logan’s forehead, and with my other hand, snapped. He went limp, falling to the floor. I opened one of the drawers on the desk. I removed something covered in cloth. I placed the item on the desk and pulled away the cloth, revealing a knife. I snapped my fingers again, and Logan was suddenly standing next to me again. I’ll only ask one more time. I raised the knife, twirling it in my hands. You can’t force me to do anything, Elias. I’m not signing it. I’m not sure what I did next, but something happened inside Logan’s mind, and the next moment, he was scribbling his name on the line at the bottom of the paper. I placed the knife down and touched my right palm to the paper. When I moved my hand away, a smoky handprint was left. It looked like it had been burned onto the paper.
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I went to pick up the knife again, but Logan was faster. His hand shot out and grabbed onto the handle. He pushed me backward, so I was leaning against the desk. I bent backward, trying to get away from the knife. Logan held it to my throat, his eyes shiny. What are you, and what have you done to my brother? I smiled sadly. I’m me, Logan. Just Elias. Who else would I be? He pushed the knife closer to my skin. No, you’re not. I’m giving you one last chance to answer. What. Are. You. My eyes lit up, like a fire igniting. I smiled wickedly. I’m your worst nightmare.
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The room lit up as overhead lights turned on. I finally got a sense of how large the room we were standing in was. It was even smaller than the basement of the Brick. Dozens of long metal arms flew out of the walls, grabbing onto Logan. The arms moved him away from me as he fought against them. I straightened up, rubbing my neck where the knife had been pressed against the skin. A panel in the wall opened, and a figure stepped out of the opening. The figure wore a long black robe, the hood covering their head. I couldn’t see their eyes, but their mouth was visible. That was the only reason I didn’t think this person was a demon. Their head was bowed, and they held out a hand. I reached into my pocket and removed the letters, handing them over immediately. Good job. You may be very useful to us. Begin. Begin what? My question was answered when more arms came out of the walls, holding syringes filled with various colorful liquids. I watched silently as the liquids were injected into Logan. He continued to fight against the arms, but it did nothing. He was powerless against the Elite’s machines.
