I am a shadow in the dead of the night I am a demon or I am a ghost I am called fury, uncompromising I have skin too thick for real love I am a seraph, tainted by time I am the end result of forced evolution I see the world through the eyes of a child I am immobile, and they fear my wrath I am a machine who has forgotten her soul Or am I a soul that dwells in the golem I am venom, poison to the touch Doomed to never know the feel of a lover I am the one who lurks in the deep I am rough poison, riches and sorrow I am an angel who lost their way I am a girl who lost her life I am the one who takes care of them all I drew them in from their own damning fall I am the lost, the lost, the lost I am the Lost, and so are you. ---------- Part Two: The Lost I am called fury, uncompromising I have skin too thick for real love Whether writhing in hatred for those around me Or bearing my smiles for those that I love Dearest cage full of heart, serving others always Tank with a soul, impervious to harm But oh how fragile—if they only knew! Is my true hide, see, the one that I keep in the dark All the more vulnerable, to all life's pains and wounds I anger, you see, for my heart is too frail ---------- Rancor I awoke very slowly, coming out of a dream that might not have been a dream, where I ran and found myself lost in trees and hills, going into places I had not seen before. This land was foreign to me, and to the shadows, which surprised me. They can be everywhere, so how can they not recognize the place? I awoke to darkness, thankfully, and the shadows gathered around me, waking me and assuring me that I was no longer in a dream. They were here with me, and everything was going to be all right, but they still didn't recognize the place. Dreams seeping into reality, the stuff of fancy made true, nightmares come to visit during the day—or night. "Good morning," said a voice off to the side. My vision was unusually blurry, and I couldn't see in the dark—what a catastrophe. I rubbed my eyes, shaking my head as if I was recovering from a hangover. "It's dark but I can't see," I muttered. "No, really?" "I can see in the dark, idiot," I muttered. "Oh, okay. That's cool. Want me to turn on a light?" "No!" "I can't see very well myself." Ignoring me, the person tapped a lantern and radiated a sphere of hateful brightness, although I guess it was hateful simply because it chased some dark away. It was really not a strong light at all, more sepia really, and enough for a regular person to see with. I could make out the girl, at least—it was a girl, but she looked older than me. She was certainly taller and bulkier, as if the fat and the muscle were waging a war inside her body, and she had pink hair. I detest pink. "How ya doin'?" she asked, smiling despicably. I groaned and made a face. "I feel like I just got hit by a crowbar." "Yep, that's the specialty of the month: another victim of sleeping gas." "Sleeping gas?" "Yeah. Let me guess, you tried to fight the creepy man in white, but you couldn't hit him. Then this mist came..." "How do you know?" I wondered, feeling oddly pacifistic. In other words, I didn't feel the urge to rip her hair off her head and stuff it in her mouth. "Oh, well, you're not the first to try that. More like the second. But that's okay—no harm done, eh?" The woman-girl smiled brightly and jammed her thumb at her chest, nearly singing out, "I'm Rancor, if you're curious." "Nfh, nice name." "Well, Merry Lynn Weathers if ya wanna get technical, but Rancor's the name people gave me." "Why's that?" "Oh," she murmured offhand, "just a little temper thing. Well, a big temper thing, really. I get mad...really easy, which is totally betraying my otherwise goofy nature." I snorted and finally felt normal as a sense of disgust came upon me. Ah, delicious. "I don't care." I stood up slowly, feeling the entropy of my body after spending who knows how long a time asleep. I groaned, "So where am I, anyway?" "You're lost." No, really? I snorted. "I could've told you that. Where exactly?" "I told you, you're lost." I snorted and gave her a look that would've turned grass brown and milk sour. "If you're here," said Rancor with a gesture, "it means you're lost, whether by choice or design. They say I'm lost as well, and I agree with them. That whole anger thing—" "They?" "The guy who brought me here a month ago. Probably the same guy who brought you here." "But you said ‘they', as in more than one." "Oh, did I?" Rancor laughed out loud, confusing the belief that she had any anger in her system at all. "Gosh, that was silly! I guess it's just dumb habit, like calling a group of girls ‘you guys'." "I...see." I managed not to growl. "By the way, about the guy that brought me here: you think that was kidnapping or what? I mean, who does he think he is?" "He says he's trying to help," said Rancor, serious and soft. "I tried asking him questions, but he avoids every single one of them—and he never stops smiling. He freaks me out." She shivered and nearly dropped the small lantern. I didn't know whether I wanted it to smash her foot or burn her hand. "So...is there a way out of here?" "Mm, he'll let you out if you turn down his offer. The guy—I call him Mr. White—he makes you offers and lets you stay here where you'll be, quote, ‘safe and no longer lost', whatever that means, if you take him up on his offer." I snorted again, finding the whole thing ridiculous and criminal. Make me an offer so I stay here, in this damned place? There wasn't anything out there big enough. Besides, nobody knows what I truly want, and nobody would care even if they did. "There's nothing he can say that would make me want to stay," I concluded. "Oh, I dunno, Mr. White makes very good offers. He promised me a place to stay, of course, and to help me with my anger management. As you can see, it's working tremendously." She grinned to prove it, which repulsed me even more. "Well, someone like you might be okay with that nonsense, but my goals are a lot higher. Tell him I refused and that I left." I took a few steps but stopped. A different kind of darkness was around me, like something foreign which I've never bathed in before. The shadows were afraid to go on—they'd rather be nearer the light that Rancor gave off! For a moment I couldn't blame them; it was like a kid taking their first steps into a haunted forest. Haunted forest, where even the shadows don't know their way around... "How do you get out of here, anyway?" I asked. "Mr. White decides when you go. Luckily he usually gives me freedom to come and go whenever I like, but sometimes I have to stay. Nine times out of ten, I'm outs—" "Never mind," I sighed. I sat down, but became oddly fearful of the alien darkness, and scooted closer to Rancor. She was disgusting, ugly, juvenile, and she had that godforsaken light, but in the entire world, she was the only person I could go to in order to escape the strange barrier. How vile, me needing people... "So, I never got your name." I kept silent. "May I have it?" "Why? I'm going to leave as soon as that guy comes here." "Oh, I don't know," she sang. "At least tell me your name. I'd really like to know." "Sta—" I stopped myself in mid-sentence and reconsidered. Nobody knew me here. I was the proverbial stranger in a strange land, and could be known however I wished. I made up my mind and used a lesser-known alias of mine, "Kagemusha." "Kagemusha? That's a cool name. What's it mean?" "...Shadow Warrior." "Cool!!" Oh, brother. ...... I was stuck between avoiding Rancor and avoiding the strange darkness that kept me from leaving. She wanted to socialize to pass the time, but I set her straight with a few harsh words and was able to bathe in silence. Ten minutes later, though, the stillness of the room got to her, and she broke down and babbled some more. I never share myself with anybody, least of all a person I can't stand, and I usually make it clear with a threat. But this bitch would...not...shut...up! The darkness around me would not permit a death. The scum would have to live. Or... The world felt weighed down around me as a sensation of dread, horror, violence and mystery shrouded the room. Rancor bolted up and waved. "Hello, Mr. White! Guess what, she's awake!" The creepy man in white had returned. About damned time. "Oh, if it isn't the kidnapper. What do you want?" He stood and smiled, frightening and illuminating as ever, and my nerve nearly left me. I couldn't stand looking into his face for long, and even being around him made me weak and scared. Who was this guy? Why did I feel so strange around him? "Dear child, I am afraid I shall have to correct you. I very much wanted you to be here, but your barbaric refusal left me with only one choice, to bring you here in a more...sedated form. I do apologize for the theatrics, but...no harm done, is there? Good. Let us get down to business." "Look, I already heard it from miss tall and pink over there," I muttered, pointing to Rancor. "You basically want to make me an offer, right? One I can't refuse, or I'm not supposed to? Well, forget it. There's nothing you can say that will make me want to stay in this cesspool any longer." I turned to leave, but whether it was by his voice or the bleak wall around the room, I could not leave. "Please, wait. Hear me out. Listen to my offer, child. You do not even know what it is I intend to exchange with you." "Probably nothing good," I spat, "but I might as well humor you if I can't kill you. Spill it." He smiled and raised his head just enough for me to see his face. I shuddered and looked away from his eternal smile. "You have such skepticism, my child, but I know that my promises will change your mind. When I am done talking, you will entreat me to stay, and I will allow it." "Get to the point." "All in good time...Amielle Celestino Yeshua." My heart jerked in surprise, knocking itself against my ribcage as I heard the creature before me utter out my full, real name, the one given to me at birth. "How did you know--?" I demanded. His smile became broader. "Oh, I know quite a bit about you, Amielle Yeshua—or should I call you Celestino? I think you would be more comfortable with that name, my dear." I felt like stumbling and nearly did. I had to clutch onto myself just to keep from falling. Rancor's presence was gone; she could've been asleep, dead, or taking a piss for all I knew. It was just me and...him. "How did you..." "Like I said, I know a lot about you. Maybe as much as you do. For the sake of convenience and your...happiness, I shall refer to you as Kagemusha, because it is how you refer to yourself—here, anyway. I do not think you appreciate being addressed by your human name." I couldn't answer, but I probably didn't need to. I managed to take a step backwards. "I'm leaving," I whispered, trying to make it sound like a threat. "And you can take your stupid offer and...go to Hell." "Ah," he sighed as my back turned, "but if you leave now, I cannot help you save your mother." Dead things gather round the rotting tree, Dance all night and fill your throats with blood. I see the vultures crashing into your bones, Can you suffer the hateful smile of the sun? Bodies freeze now in the suffering desert, Know you that I shall not live for the morrow. Vague chance kills me, I know not your name, And you, my friend, shall not see home again. True shock can only be expressed with haunting beauty. "I struck a chord, did I not?" I remained frozen. "I was correct after all. There is something in your life that keeps you from being completely unredeemable. You are lost, my dear, as is Rancor, but here in this place, here with me, you may yet find direction out of the woods. I offer you assistance with your mother, which I know you seek. It is the only thing keeping you, and dare I suggest it, all of humanity alive. It is a blessing in the disguise of a chain. A welcome anchor in a sea of troubles. I can help you, Kagemusha, but you must first accept my offer. Or...you could refuse, and return to the streets as a whore for money. It is your choice." Damnation. No poetry could suffice. He said it was my choice, but really, I had no choice. I had to accept. For her. Chains; he was right. This phantom has a past, O Man, and it keeps her chained to the world. I am the Lost, and so are you. "What must I do?" I whispered hoarsely. He laid a tender hand on me that calmed all my fears and saw my doubts swirl down into a bottomless drain. I felt no ire, only peace, such as I've not felt in many forgettable years. "When the time comes, I shall tell you. Until then, I free you, to look around and to acquaint yourself with this place. As of now, the Lost are only two strong in number, but soon there will be more. I want you and Rancor to go out into the world and find these Lost, and bring them to me, wherein I shall give them my offer. I sincerely hope they will accept—after all, the more the merrier, eh?" I wanted to sneer, to shudder, and to strike him, but there was too much peace in me. I sighed as I felt his hand move, and wished that it had not. Such love...such power... "Yo! Whoo-hoo! Kagemusha! You in? Wow, you look really spaced!" I blinked as I saw a perky, curious face in front of mine, covered in pink hair. I growled and smashed it out of my way, sending the fool straight to the floor. She groaned, laughed, and apologized all at once, but just to make sure she didn't try something again, I stepped on Rancor's stomach and hurled myself as far away from her as I possibly could. I didn't see Mr. White for quite some time. ......... I was glad to finally have a friend, even an antisocial one. Living alone as the first member of The Lost took its toll on me. I'm a strange kind of girl, clingy and desperate for company, but I scared off all my friends with my temper. I thought I had a few that were loyal, but after I nearly killed someone out of hatred, even they left me, and now I'm all alone. I don't know a soul in the world and I'm left to define the meaning of life all by myself. What was I supposed to do? You're not just born into this world; everyone is meant to do something, and I could not accept being born to create misery. When I was alone, I came to realize very quickly that I would be barred from love. It's my thick skin, isn't it? Nobody would want to get in so close, and who knows when I'll be set off, and by what! Being a vessel of constant hatred isn't enough; I have to have special powers as well, something that alienates me from the rest of the people. I can turn my skin into armor, see, and that makes it really hard for attacks to get through to me. I'm like a tank—but all tanks are hollow on the inside, and can only be operated by somebody else, somebody on the outside. I'm just a hollow tank operating on its own steam, no different than a monster. I went seeking help and found MERCS, which in turn led me to meet Dr. Kamaguchi. She sent me on an errand where my anger was a bonus—demolition, it was—and afterwards, directed me to a place where even my unique abilities would be appreciated and even desired. That's how I met Mr. White. He offered me a real home of sorts, and said that he could help me with my rage. What I really wanted was to cope with my losses: my friends, my family, any and all lovers, even my own sense of self. I needed a guide, someone to steer the tank, and he assured me I would get one. Well, it took a month, but here I am now, finally with a friend. And she wants nothing to do with me. It shocked me to learn that Kagemusha was only 15 years old—that was ten years younger than me! She looked and acted much older! It definitely surprised me, and I had to refrain from calling her a kid. That deadly stare of hers suggested strength and skill well beyond the limits of age. I kept my distance, but never gave up trying to get her to open up. Maybe her own sense of loneliness will one day cause her to break out of her shell—to emerge from her own tank, and to befriend me. There's no way in Hell I'd ever start a romance with somebody so young, but that's okay. We aren't the only ones lost in this world. ---------- May the Lost find their way home, wherever it is, whenever it may be. In the next chapter, the Lost are sent on their first mission. They must recruit one who was tainted by time, one who seeks answers to her life, one who has been a prisoner. She too is lost, but will she be able to find a new path when she meets up with the others? Find out in the next chapter, "Marissa".
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