The End...
The En-
A small meow broke the intense silence, and a tiny black cat strolled in and towards each of the gentlemen. The purring caught 抖阴社区r's attention, and then he caught a glimpse of the night cat in the corner of his eye.
"Minette! I thought I closed the door, sorry. I'll, well..." But her voice became faint, as 抖阴社区r was no longer focusing on the world around him, but the lost memory that he had always hidden from his vision.
The memory enveloped him, his childhood tears streaking across his little face, a boy who had lost his best friend, a family member lead astray. Yet, that boy never gave up searching, never gave up on hope, and kept believing that he could find her once more. Soon enough, his perseverance prevailed, and he had found what he had lost many months ago.
It's surprising where inspiration comes from, and where seemingly forgotten memories lie. Sometimes, they come from the strangest of places, places that couldn't even be predicted by the greatest predictors.
But it didn't matter, they were giving up.
They were...
They...
No.
No, they weren't giving up. How could they? They had come so far. Their story couldn't end now. They had come so close; they had reached what Sam and Project believed to be the final page...
But words were still unsaid, sentences unwritten.
"You're right; we do have a choice." 抖阴社区r looked up, and a new feeling came through him, a feeling of freedom. Hope rushed through his veins, his heart pumped with no predicted rhythm, and his mind surged in such a way that was untraceable. Questioner still had his head hung low, however, unwilling to try, "What's the point in saying that? It's probably just what you're meant to do." He complained; his conscience almost non-existent. But 抖阴社区r... Mark... was having none of it.
"Look at me," he commanded Questioner, "do you remember that time we both had dreams of meeting superheroes? Time-travellers? Wizards? We were told as a kid that they don't exist in the real world, but did that stop us from trying to find them in forests, valleys, or anywhere across the world? No. We went searching until the sun set, and then some. We don't give up, we promised each other that, and if I'm still gonna fight, then you have to."
Questioner let the memories flood into his mind, the searches with dim torches, the climbs and injuries of branches. He remembered the calls, he remembered the hopes, he remembered his childish ignorance to those that told him to stop believing. Did they stop him? No. No matter what Questioner did, no matter how many times his mother said, "Bruce for the love of god get those fairy tales out of your head," he kept trying.
Dedication came back to Bruce, his eyes full of life, freedom. That feeling erupted across the globe, and people everywhere stopped for just a moment, and felt this new feeling go through them. A feeling like no other, a feeling of true freedom. Some enjoyed, most loved, but a couple got scared. Two people felt this unexpected feeling, felt this sudden rush of freedom from being set off their natural path.
Wynter looked up at the two, surprised by the bright aura that newly surrounded them. They were no longer the gentlemen hiding behind a badge, they were no longer following a set-up. It was as if the very embodiment of hope had absorbed them, as if the very premise of dedication was their new way of life. "So, you're breaking the mould?" They both looked at each other, "I believe so." Mark hoped.
"Well, before you go, just know that Project is still a friend to all of us. They had helped through tough times, and yet never asked for things in return. I know that this isn't how they should've turned out; they shouldn't be this way. So, please, see what you can do for Project. I saw the look in their eyes the last time I saw them: they were trapped by something, someone, forced onto a path which led them to break. It's not who they are, they are so much better than this." Wynter gave them some final words, hoping that the duo takes it on board.
"Speaking of that, do you know their name?" Bruce asked, wishing to get an answer to his biggest question. Wynter, however, didn't reply with the answer he had expected.
"I knew them as my friend; not Project, not a mystery person, but a friend. I saw them as a person with hopes, aspirations."
"Could you provide some more detail?" Mark asked, trying to find some more pressing evidence to write down. Wynter nodded, and told her tale...
???, ??:??
"What do you mean?!" Someone yelled.
"I mean that those two you believed to be the people to help get your ending have just broken out of your hopeless cycle!" Another argued. They bickered to each other, not knowing that I had begun to listen in. "You failed, end of. I told you Questioner was not going to be cooperative! I warned you, and what did you do? Nothing!! You just stood there, that same blank expression on your face that you had when I first met you."
"I had lost everything! You were the one who wanted this plan in the first place! You made the concept-"
"And you orchestrated it all! You were the one to agree with it, all because you were desperate! All because you did not have the guts to do what needed to be done!"
"I HAD LOST EVERYTHING AND YOU EXPECT ME TO HAVE THE GUTS TO TRY SOMETHING MAD?!"
I kept in the shadows, knowing that I was clearly unwanted here. These two always argued, and yet they were the ones to make most of this plan. The first was now pacing around the room, high levels of stress getting to them.
The second clearly wasn't done with their argument either, "I got you out of that place, you could not live with yourself in that home, and so I offered an escape. M cooperated, whilst O hid in the shadows, and S was none the wiser. If you expect me to feel remorse for something that ended off better than what you planned, then you are mistaken. I gave you a chance, and you have just blew it."
"Oh really? I blew it? Let us not forget here who has gone out of line too many times. Will, Optimist, you have been too quick to make accusations, 'my friend'. You thought you could get away with changing my own plans, working behind my back, when you had forgotten that I have done the same trick I have done with everyone on you."
"What is that, then?" The second asked sarcastically.
"I got you to open up to me. I got you to tell me so much about you. I know you are all bark and no bite. I know that you fear me and my own dark side, I know that you feel as though your own family betrayed you, and I can make your life a living hell." The first walked towards a misty window, looking out to their plan's subjects, leaving the second to fear them once more.
Yet the second had a new idea, an unpredicted one.
A maniacal laugh was heard, "What's so funny?" The first asked. However, as they turned around, they were met with a new greeting.
Smash.
"Well, if they break the mould, why shouldn't I?"
I couldn't believe my eyes; what had happened was something I didn't think anyone would do, but with the way they were acting, I had already presumed that they were long past saving. Now I needed to run.
* * *
Bruce, Mark, Wynter.
Wynter began, "Project was a person of many gifts, but never knowing how to use them. The first time I had met them I saw their very talent of imagination and deductions. They told me about those they knew, and how they could deduce certain aspects. They even did so with an entire room of people, deducing and imagining who they were in this life and 'in others' is what they wrote. Yet this was the only talent they had used to its fullest; other talents were being wasted away due to their own disadvantages."
"What disadvantages were there?" Bruce asked.
"Multiple things, fears mainly. They always had this sense of urgency, this constant fear that what they did wasn't enough. It ran them into the ground, and soon enough took a toll on us. They slowly let go of their music, and their association with animals. They stopped their own mind from being philosophical, and had begun to stop deducing what they knew about others and ways they would act. That is, until..."
"Until what?" Mark asked...
???
I began to make my way towards my exit, when the next thing I know, a lone sheet of paper found its way under my step, and I fell to the ground.
"Hello~? Who is out in the void today?" The Mad Man asked, after finishing his deed.
I went to get up and ran, but a hand clutched the back of my shirt, and dragged me back to the ground. The man in the shadows looked like a true monster, his smile being the only thing that shone in the pitch black; his wide, white, insane, smile.
"Now, now, we cannot have any witnesses, can we?"
A blade swung towards my head...
* * *
Wynter continued, "Well, Project was very adamant on keeping peace, and despised conflicts, arguments, the lot. We all said that was their one and only opinion of preference. Yet, one day, with weather like it was a couple days ago, Project had finally ran into the one thing they were powerless to stop: A fight.
"From what I heard from others at the scene, two of Project's old friends had gotten into a frenzy and showed no signs of stopping until one of them was on the floor for good. Project went in to intervene, but..."
"But as they're not a fighter, they couldn't do anything." Bruce finished.
Wynter nodded, "They got hit in the head when they intervened, and then were knocked out for the rest of the fight. When they woke up, police had arrived, and a body was covered."
"Jesus..." Mark commented, unsure as to how he would react in that situation.
"Soon after, Project couldn't bear with themselves, and even other people were calling them weak. I tried to help them out, but they just pushed us all away. They didn't believe that they were meant to help anymore, they didn't believe that they were strong enough to help others. Soon enough, even their family saw little of them." Wynter allowed her breathing to steady, as the memory of her conversations with the Pessimist Project came through the gates of her conscience and overfill her head...
* * *
I guess I'm meant to live a little longer, as one thoughtful insect went right to his eye. With him screaming in pain, I loosen his grip and run as fast as I can, as far as I can.
It doesn't take much time until I hear the slamming of the door behind me being swung open, and the ever-growing footsteps of the mad man behind me. I know my way around the place, and so don't get trapped by the endless stops and twists that this hidden place now has. Yet he also knows his way, and so his laugh always finds me.
I get to the front door, and rush outside, still running even though my heart rate was now off the scales. I soon hear him, however, "You can't escape your demise!" followed by his crazed laugh.
* * *
She eventually continued, "That was when they had run into someone that changed their mind. I don't know who this guy is, but they were able to persuade Project to keep going, more than Sam or I could ever do. It was surprising to hear this, but I didn't know how dangerous this was now becoming."
"Wait, so Project was saved by someone?" Bruce asked, thinking his own mind was tricking him. Wynter shook her head, "Not saved, every part of him was eradicated, and a new Project was born from the remains. This person wasn't a saviour, they were a bringer of My TRUE Finale."
"What?!" Mark stammered, "But Spencer's letter! That said-"
"That was My Finale, something different, though just as concerning. No, this person was the causation of The Incident that left Project missing, and began all of this." Wynter corrected. "Whoever this guy is, they saw potential in Project for the wrong reasons, and used them as a pawn all whilst still making it seem like it was Project's own idea." Wynter knew Project, and knew their concerns and fears that overwhelmed them, but now whenever she thought of them, she only hoped that the Project she knew was still inside, trapped and not dead.
"Do you know who this person is?" Mark asked, hoping for a name.
"I know that they travelled with Project most times, but other than that, I've only got what I believe is some boastful nickname."
"What's that?" Bruce asked...
"I am your King! You cannot go against my plans! I will save those Project has misled! I will reveal to you all the truth of the person you once knew as 'friend'!" The mad man spewed, "I am the burning Phoenix that will forever live in all of your minds!"
Bruce immediately left for the door, with Mark having to abruptly apologise for the sudden rudeness of his friend, and joined him in the car.
"What was that about? You didn't even say thanks!" Mark questioned.
"I know who Pessimist is, and I know where to find them."
"Wait, how?" Mark asked, confused.
"Because that nickname isn't a nickname at all: King Phoenix is who they are. If we hurry, we can finish this, find Project, save them, and be home for tea. However, I need you to trust that I know what I'm, doing, and follow my lead, okay?" Bruce asked, a stern, serious expression on his face.
Though Mark may not have known what Bruce was talking about, he trusted him with his life. He hasn't messed up badly so far, and has taken most of the tough punches, so why should he doubt him now?
"Alright"Mark responded, "Let's end this."