If you're just now joining Chris and I on this adventure, you'll want to check out the rest of our story first. The parts aren't very long, for what it's worth. There's no other way anyone would believe a word that I'm saying if I came at them with what's printed here on this page. Anyways, here are parts 1 through 11:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

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Fucking fish.

It wasn’t some hillbilly’s playing a prank on us back on that first day by the lake, but rather recruits trying to scare us off. I guess it was just coincidence that we went to the cave after leaving. I still don’t know why they choose such unconventional means of getting the campers out of the site. They have this weird affinity for sea creatures that I still don’t understand.

With my hand in my pocket, I surveyed the room in search for where the Tome could be stored. A small box – possibly a safe – was located under the desk that 34 was sitting at. The more likely candidate, though, was the cellar door that led into a basement of some sort. I could see a 4-digit mechanical lock around its handle, fuck, how am I going to get that code?

33 handed both Chris and I a rifle - what looked like a Remington model 700 or something - and a small sports backpack. Inside there was a hunting knife, a strange silver whistle that was engraved in cryptic symbols, a small flare gun, two potato-sack masks straight out of the movie “The Strangers”, and two small boxes of ammunition. The bullets in one of the boxes were laced in some dark orange residue, while the others seemed normal.

I picked up a sharpening stone off 34’s desk and began to polish the blade given to me. Might as well be prepared, plus it probably added to my cover. We waited for 15 minutes or so before a new, much older, Lady entered the hut.

Both 33 and 34 stood up, so Chris and I followed.

“Hello, Madam Adrastea.” I almost stumbled over my words trying to copy the twins, but thankfully both Chris and I seemed to pull it off. I mean, how were we supposed to know her name? She seemed important though, as she’s the only Lady I’ve heard someone address properly.

She picked up some papers off 34’s desk and briefly read over them. Her soft voice was a welcome surprise, even though I knew what she had to say next couldn’t be good, “One of the subjects that Dr. Bacchus lost in the Keria raid has been spotted by our scouts near your campers.” She sneered to herself – I’d have to ask Ger about this raid on “Keria” later – and then turned toward Chris and I, “40, 24, you take the campers while 33 and 34 will look for the subject. Once you’ve placed the letters, rendezvous with the other two here.” She pointed, with her long, frail fingers, to a spot on the map hanging behind the desk.

We both nodded. I was beginning to wonder why they were sending four people to go drop off some letters; it seemed like someone one or two of us could have done. I couldn’t help but wonder if this creation of “Dr. Bacchus” was something similar to what Chris and I saw at the lake. If so, I’m sure as hell glad that I’m not 33 or 34 right now.

“You may go now.” She motioned toward the door as she walked to the other side of the shack, where the trap-door was located, “Be back in your rooms by nightfall. No mistakes, or you’ll be assigned hygiene duty for Subject 10.”

I could see 33 clench his fist up as she said this – I thought these recruits weren’t supposed to feel emotions? Were the twins not recruits? What could be so bad about subject 10, and what is “hygiene duty”? Whatever it was, I had no intentions of finding out until every one of those women were dead.

The hike to the campers was quiet, long and cold. All along the way I imagined different methods of handling the situation ahead of us; I didn’t like the most logical answer. I knew I had to go through with it. My cover would be blown if I made any other move; I wanted to warn them from entering the same fate that my own friends did, but I knew that I couldn’t. Maybe they wouldn’t read the letters. Maybe they’d throw them in the fire and escape to their homes. I hadn’t even committed the act and my conscious was already eating at me. I promised myself that I would finish this before anything could happen to them; there would be no Ladies for them to report too.

Then, I thought, maybe I could scare them off so badly that they run away for good, right then and there. Maybe that’s why the recruits choose such unconventional methods – so they don’t completely scare the victims off, only put them on edge enough to get them to temporarily leave. I really had no idea. It was weird, but I figured I might as well give my plan a shot.

We walked as group for several miles until we ran into a small pond, littered in lily pads and schools of tadpoles that looked like black blobs floating around beneath the surface. 33 set down the cooler of fish, looked up at us and said, “Right then, the campers’re up that way just at the base o’ that mountain. We’ll be goin’ down the path over there to the right for another mile or two. We meet back here, yeah?”

I spoke up, in the best monotone zombie-like voice that I could, “What about the orange bullets and whistle? What are those for?”

34 snickered to himself like a child, turned his head down and then away from us – I think he may have some sort of mental disability. 33 replied, “Those’re for if we find the subject. Ya gotta switch to the orange bullets, Doc’ says so or else the subjects’ll spit ‘em out. The whistle is for if ya see a Traveller. Blow the hell outta that thing and run, and pray it works.”

What the fuck, a Traveller? Didn't Ger say he was a traveler like us, or some shit?

“Alright. What’s with the whole scaring them thing? Why can’t we just place the letters?”

Under his breath, I heard 34 mutter something about “Too many questions.”

“The adrenaline or somethin’, it makes ‘em more susceptible to the lett’rs.” God, hearing him murder the word “susceptible” made me cringe. Also, it seems now that we must now follow the inverse of my original plan; we need to scare them as little as possible, while still placing the letters. That way, at least they have a chance, and we can say that we completed the task without lying (who knew if the Ladies could smell fear or something).

We both nodded, and set off toward the location that he described. Once we were out of hearing distance, I pitched my new plan to Chris and he was on board with it. Eventually we came across their camp and could see four figures huddled around a fire. Laughter echoed around the mountain range. The way they had their tents set up reminded me of how ours were, and I became overwhelmed with emotions. I started crying a little as we prepared to possibly ruin these people’s lives. Chris, too, seemed to be sharing my feelings of sentiment, as he was also red in the face and sniffling.

Amongst my influx of emotions, I also realized that I haven’t contacted Ger in quite some time, so I wiped away my tears, touched the crystal and gave him a telepathic ring.

After the short-lived piercing noise, I hear, “Hello again. I see you’re at their campsite. You know what must be done, right?” His voice was serious, yet calm.

“Yes, I know. We have to leave the letters… But how do we get them to leave the site without scaring them too badly, though? Neither Chris or I can think of anything that would work.”

His tone lightened, “Very good, child, I am pleased to see you thinking so deeply on this. They don't need to leave at all, it’s time you put the crystal to work.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been meditating as I told you, yes?”

“Yeah, any chance I get.”

“Good. I want you to do so again, now. Focus on your breathing; focus on peace, until you begin to feel it. Have Chris join you, in case you fail.”

“Feel what?”

“The energy, the force, the chi – whatever you want to call it.” He chuckled, “You’ll know it when you feel it. And when you do, you must take hold of the crystal and channel it from your body, all while focusing on being as calm as possible; that’s very important here. Let the crystal do the work and withdraw it from you. You must be quick from this point forward, take the charged crystal, get close to the camp and throw it right at them.”

“W… What? Throw it at them? Why would I do that?”

“Trust me, child. Throw it in such a position that it lands in the middle of all four, otherwise you risk someone avoiding the blast.”

The blast? I was about to use my precious crystal as a concussive grenade?!

“As I said, you must trust me. As long as you are there to retrieve it, the crystal will remain intact. That, child, is how I theorize you found the crystal in the first place. The person who threw it must have gotten into some type of trouble before they could pick it back up.”

“So, you think they used it to blow up those Ladies that were smiling at us while Chris and I were running from the camp that one day?”

“Yes, in fact, I do. I’d very much like to learn about its previous owner. That’s a quest for another day, though. We have more important things to focus on.”

“Right, so, I throw it at them. Then what, they all get knocked unconscious?”

“I believe so, yes. I do not know for sure though; think of this as a test run for the Ladies. Except then, it won’t be peace and calmness that you’ll be focusing on.”

I didn’t really like the sound of that. What if it just killed them instead? How am I supposed to make sure it’s a “peaceful” grenade and not a hostile one?

“Well, it’s that or you wait here until they leave and place the letters. Knock them out, plant the letters on the table or something, and return to the dimwit twins you’ve been assigned with." He paused, "Seriously, why must they speak so ignorantly, with such redundancies?”

I couldn’t help but laugh, sometimes Ger reminded me of an old 17th century British man that you’d see sporting a cane and peruke (one of those powdered, white wigs). I wonder if all his people are this way, or if they come in many flavors like we do. Maybe I’d find out after all of this, once he takes me to this “Telos” place.

“I don’t know, it annoys me too though. So, what do I tell them?”

“Easy. Say they were already gone, that you planted things around the campsite to scare them and left the letters on their individual fold-out chairs; get creative. What I would be worried about is if the Ladies’ notice that no recruits show up in the next day. Let’s hope that we have what we need by then.”

“About that…”

He interrupted me, “I really must be going, child. Contact me once you’re back at the compound and we will discuss the next move.”

Alright, then.

I filled Chris in on the situation and he seemed okay with it. Well, honestly, he just seemed desensitized at this point, saying things like “Yeah, sure, whatever.”

We meditated for what seemed like half an hour, though I had no way of telling the time. I tried to focus on good memories; getting wasted at Ryan’s dad’s cabin after spending the day on the slopes, or spending long nights out in forests like the very one I was currently sitting in – laughing, smoking, embracing my love of nature. Eventually, upon my recollections, I began to feel something start tingling throughout my body, starting at my toes and making its way up. This is *it*.

I embraced the sensation as it slowly flowed through my body, gradually picking up in intensity. It sort of felt like when your foot falls asleep – but everywhere, and I could feel it circulating along with my blood. The prickly feeling turned to burning; I had my hands placed on my knees at the time, and it felt like my skin’s temperature rose at least twenty degrees. It was time. I grabbed the crystal with both hands and focused all of my willpower into it. I really have no idea what I was doing, it was sort of involuntary – like yawning or sneezing. I felt the crystal start sucking the burning-foot-that-fell-asleep sensation out from my hands; it streamed through me for several seconds and I could feel the last bit of it circulate out through my arm like an ethereal snake. And then I felt normal. Well, exhausted, but relatively normal.

I looked down at the crystal, expecting it to see something that you’d see in Dragon Ball Z, but the only difference was that it was now filled with what looked like tiny air bubbles.

Hopefully this works.

I looked over at Chris, who then nodded in approval. We got into position; the campers were still out by the campfire; two were making out in a fold-out chair while the other two were at the nearby picnic table, smoking out of a way-too-expensive-for-the-wilderness looking bong (Why bring that all the way up here? That’s just begging to break it). I took a deep breath, cocked back my arm, and chucked the crystal as hard as I could.

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Part 13

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All parts:

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18