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Little Lost Doll, part three

Posted on 2006.09.01 at 21:01
LOCATION: Maybe's laboratory
CONDITION: uncertain
SOUNDS: David Bowie - "The Man Who Sold the World"
Present day. Present time.

Brennen clutched the small, waterlogged leather pouch in her hand, looking up at that same decrepid tower surrounded by trees. A little broken leather strap hung from the pouch. It was her pouch; she had lost it here. And it was empty.

And suddenly, everything came back to her. She was here at least two months ago... and she had been damaged... and there was a figure in the doorway of the tower just before she went under...

The footpads, soft though they were, made a great deal of noise against the stone floor and broken, burned wood covering it. Especially at full stride. Brennen bounded into the central room, daggers at the ready; she had had the good sense to ask Vaien for them back before she took off on her blind crusade to find out where she had been for the past month and a half. Now, as she stood with the tips of both of her daggers pointed in the direction of a hooded figure standing in the center of the inner chamber, she knew.

"Welcome back, Brennen," the hooded figure turned and said in a calm, almost cheerful voice. "Sorry, I haven't had time to clean up this old place. I've been awfully busy lately."

Brennen blinked at the stark contrast between the meaning of words and the way in which they were said. She managed to compose a question which summaried her confusion, and barked out, "Who are you? How do you know my name?"

"You used to know me, but that was a lifetime ago," the man said, and slid his hood back off of his face.

The human male was in his mid to late 30s, it appeared, possessing broad, chiseled features, soft, lightly-colored eyes (though it was hard to make out the actual color), and a slight, unoffensive smile. His face was clean and shaven, his skin was a flawless cream color, and he had straight, black hair that went to his shoulders in the back. Whoever's face this was, it was such a stark contrast to the horrible, dark aura that seemed to suddenly resonate from his very presence, Brennen couldn't help but stop and stare into that handsome face for several seconds, taking in this madness she was bearing witness to.

That attractive, welcoming figure staring back her... it was Maybe.

"How in th-... Who are you possessing this time?" Brennen asked, trying not to let the shock slip through in her tone as best as she could.

"Not a soul," the man responded in that same deceptively charming voice. If it weren't for the undeniable feeling of Maybe's presence, one which she was intimately familiar with and equally disgusted by, she wouldn't have believed it was really him. He continued, "I am alive by the grace of my Lord, for whom I live every day to glorify and fulfill His Will." It sounded like a rather formal introduction.

Brennen scoffed, stifling a far less pleasant sound in response to Maybe's words. "And who is your 'Lord'?" she asked caustically. "What is 'His Will'?"

The man paused, still standing where he was in the middle of the room, and tilted his head thoughtfully at Brennen. "Tell me Brennen, what is it you came here searching for?"

Brennen opened her mouth to shout an order for him to answer her question. "My past" came out instead, and this somehow puzzled Brennen even further. She took a moment to recall that she actually said those words, and then wondered why, out of all of her thoughts and feelings, those came out.

"Of course," said the man who would be Maybe. He strode over to the far wall, leaving Brennen, still frozen with disbelief, staring at his back as he moved away. As the man worked at something on the bare wall, he commented, "I really wasn't expecting you to come back. I thought you had forgotten this place."

"When a person loses two months of their life, they get curious," Brennen responded sardonically. "What about the rest of my memories, between now and two months ago?"

"You have none," replied the man without looking up from what he was doing. "You were unconscious the entire time. It made it easier to do what had to be done."

"What?!" Brennen looked up in half-anger, half-horror at what that strange man had said. The way he spoke was so casual, so cool and matter-of-fact, that... it almost couldn't be Maybe. Maybe never spoke without some degree of sick amusement or venom in his voice. This man... the way he said that last sentence made it sound like he had done her a favor. As she looked up, the man was surprising close to her all of a sudden, a large, leather-bound book in his hand, outstretched toward her.

Brennen jumped back, throwing out her daggers in a defensive stance once again. "What is that?" she asked him in a voice slightly showing of the sudden strange fear and sickening frustration she was trying to suppress.

"You said you were looking for your past," the man replied, arm still outstretched, light-colored eyes fixed on Brennen's, his face calm but stern. "Within this journal is the key to who you are."

Brennen didn't trust him at all, but as much as she could feel Maybe standing before her, she couldn't sense it in any other way. He didn't show any sign of being a dishonest man in speech or mannerism. Either she was wrong, or this was the most deceptive disguise Maybe has ever dawned. Brennen was willing to bet on the latter.

Nevertheless, after putting away one of her daggers, she took the book from Maybe's hand and stuck her other dagger out at him as an indication to step back. Maybe gave a short nod of understanding, and carefully stepped back. As an extra courtesy, he held his hands in view, palms open, so that Brennen could see he was unarmed. After a few paces he stopped, still looking at her with innocent eyes.

Brennen sighed in trepidation at him, and looked down at the book. It wasn't marked, and had no title. It wasn't dusty like everything else in the room; where had Maybe produced it from? Looking past the man, she could see a stone offset in the wall. It was a hidden compartment. He must be Maybe, then; who else would know about a secret hiding place inside Maybe's laboratory?

Brennen eyed the man who was Maybe. He returned her glare with a casual, even curious expression. He was waiting rather patiently for her to do whatever it was she was going to do, but nothing about him indicated a trap. He didn't even seem to be in any hurry. With some effort, Brennen managed to take her eyes off of Maybe, and look back down at the book. She slid the cover open with her thumb, and began to silently skim over the hand-written text, wondering just what this would reveal to her about her lost memories.

In the time it took for Brennen's eyes to widen in utter horror at what it was she was reading, it all came back to her.


(Anonymous) at 2011-01-17 08:00 (UTC) (Follow the voices.)

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