DECEMBER JANE

December: Goodbye

Six down.

Six down.

Two more. Keep running.

Do it for her. Do it for the city.

My blood pumped faster than the last time. I ran faster. I thought faster. I was faster.

It was getting angry. It was much worse now. It was following me constantly, around every corner, behind every tree.

The seventh page was calling me from some old house that had to have caved in years ago. I grabbed it, then hopped over some rubble, fully expecting It to be waiting for me around the wall. But it wasn't. I took the opportunity and ran out the same entrance of the house.

It was right there. It waited for me, and I barely dodged it. I'm pretty sure it grabbed me, by my bad hand. I writhed and fought away, trying to not sob from the pain. Finally, I broke free, feeling the metal joint of my hand burst and scatter on the ground. The brace on my arm lurched. I had seven pages, but now my entire right arm was useless.

Pain flooded my right side, but I ran. I sprinted towards the small voices that ushered me to the last one. This would be it. I promised myself now that this will be the last time I do this.

They got louder and louder, and I found myself in an abandoned trailer. It was still standing, surprisingly, but the outside was weathered down and stained from years of rain. With the last strength I had, I slammed my good half into the flimsy front door. It caved in, but didn't open fully. Once I slammed into it a second time, I fell inside along with the door.

The first room when I broke in was a pathetic excuse for a living room. Old furniture eaten away by time (and moths) surrounded an old coffee table that had one leg partially broken off. The TV cabinet was totally knocked over, and CDs covered the floor around where it lay. I carefully stepped over the mess and walked through a doorway into what was a kitchen.

I saw the final paper on the fridge. It was held on by magnets, letters that spelled the name Jane again. Whoever Jane was had to be in some serious shit now.

But then there was It, the man who was too tall, cramming itself into a corner just beside the fridge. Waiting.

Obviously, with no other choice, I jumped towards the fridge and reached for the page with my left hand. A small black smudge in my vision attempted to stop me, but my grip glued to the paper, and the thing faded from my view. I crashed to the ground, knocking most of the magnets down onto the floor.

The world went quiet again. My body relaxed in relief. The only noises now were those of the bird song and afternoon breeze. It was then, after a peaceful moment, that pain hit me like a brick to the face. I groaned, trying to fight it away and stand up. For what seemed like hours, I sat on the filthy floor in defeat to the pain. When I realized how pathetically stupid I was being, I lifted my dead weight up with the handle of the old fridge and limped my way out the front door of the trailer.

Judging by the sun's position, it was roughly 1:00 or 2:00 in the afternoon now. It would probably take me an hour or two to get back home, and with the state of my body, I was looking forward to Smiles never letting me outside again.

I couldn't help but let out occasional sobs. Yes, from the pain, but mostly from the absolute shit-show tragedy my life was spiraling into. If you would have told me a year ago that I would have been half-fried, then thrown to edgy doctor serial killers to hide from the tall-ass demon that follows your every move, I would have simply killed myself. I've never been suicidal, but damn, this is starting to get insufferable.

Maybe that was the best option.

I stopped walking. I thought about it.

No, that was definitely the best option.

No one would care. No one would remember. Surely, most people who knew me on a legal basis figured I'm deceased now.

I fell to the ground and sat there. This was it. If I couldn't kill myself, something else would. Some other psycho would find me. An animal in the night will tear my flesh. That thing would finish me.

Fuck, why didn't I let it catch me?!

✦-তততততততততত-✦

"This is yours?"

I'm not sure how long I was laying on the ground. The sun had moved at least another hour's length down in the sky. The voice that woke me up was a dry, gravelly sound. I sat up and looked around, trying to figure out who just spoke. My eyes landed on a chic in a severely stained white sweatshirt and the spookiest mask I've seen to date. Wisps of black hair escaped from the hood that was pulled over the person's head. I'm not quite sure what the mask was supposed to be, other than the eyes of the owner behind it were so gray they seemed to glow from the ebony-painted eye sockets. The mouth of it was also cut out and obscurely painted black. The figure held my bag and overalls, every aspect about them seeming to be intact.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Uh-- I might have to get an NDA for that," she joked. "Seriously, though, call me K."

"As in the letter K?"

"Mhm."

Walking towards me, K held out my belongings for me to take. When I did, I noted that she was wearing black medical gloves.

"You're one of those weirdos?" I asked.

K shrugged. "I'm some flavor of that," she replied. "But I don't really know what you're talking about."

"You kill people."

K paused. "Yeah, basically." She laughed. "I guess Kate is fine, then."

"December."

"That's your name? Dude, that's awesome."

I managed a weak smile. "Thanks. I picked it out myself."

"Did you lose the one your mom got you?"

There was a pause, but I felt more laughter seize me. We were suddenly both laughing at how stupid it all was. I forgot my own name. It was funny.

"Oh, I'm sorry man," Kate said, still laughing. "That has to suck."

"It's no biggie," I replied. After so long, standing back up felt like a chore, but I somehow managed to do it. On my feet, I sized Kate up to find that she was roughly the same height I was. Kate's head tilted to the side, possibly in question of my scarring, but I was too focused on the creepy-ass eyes that scanned me to be bothered. "Can you... use that half at all?" She asked. I made a kind-of hand motion with the useless remainder of my right arm's mobility. Kate laughed quietly again. "You're like a few of us at the main house," she said. I frowned. "What house?"

"You don't know?" She said, confused. "I thought you were with the big man."

I started to slip on my jacket. "Who's the big man?"

"The Operator. My boss, if you want to call him that."

I started to lumber in the rough direction of the old hospital, which I silently encouraged Kate to do as well. She followed right behind me as I hoped. "So what does he operate?" I asked. "I guess he operates things around here," she said, shrugging.

"That's helpful."

"To be fair, I don't think anyone knows what he does, really." She looked at me with a tilted head. "Who are you under, anyway?"

"Under?"

"Who do you work for?"

I laughed. "You might have to sign an NDA for that one."

"It can't be that bad."

"It's bad enough."

After that, neither of us had much to say, and for the rest of the waltz back to my place, we were silent. The wind picked back up again and kicked the leaves around, and for another brief moment in time, everything fell calm again.

Maybe I'd get to talk to this Operator guy. Maybe he knew what all of this meant.