After dreamless sleep I came back to awareness with a dull throb on my head. It was a bit too hot under the covers, so I tried to pull them down, only for something to tug on my wrist. I moved my other limbs, only to find them similarly bound. Something cold and thin touched my neck, and I startled, opening my eyes only to squint and groan at the light change. My face also felt weird. What was happening?

“Don’t move.” the voice was familiar, but the tone felt wrong. Cold.

She didn’t have to tell me twice, though. I really didn’t want to move my head right now, regardless of the knife. When my eyes adjusted, I saw a familiar face looming over me with an uncharacteristic expression.

“Amanda…?”

“That’s me. Now who are you, miss -er, sir, Faceless?”

“I’m…” The words died on my tongue, as my whole body felt like it’d been dunked into a bath of ice water.

“I, don’t know.” I said with barely contained panic.

“Oh god, I don’t know!” My breathing picked up. Alien memories mashed together, blending until I couldn’t tell what was real.

“Hey!”

I winced and flinched back, then tried to stifle the groan at that jerk of movement.

“Are you Vincent?” She asked, softer but no less firm.

“No. Yes? I don’t know! You were gone! Are you even real?”

Amanda sighed audibly and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Okay. I don’t think you're a Faceless. Or you’re a really weird one who mutated in this hell dimension, but simple answers are the best answers. Let’s just go through this one at a time. What do you remember last?”

“I was in- no, he, I. Ugh fucking hell. Chronological order, I have a memory of you disappearing in the bathroom, and then… that didn’t happen…?” Fuckity fuck shit, I had no idea what was real anymore.

Amanda furrowed her brow trying to process my stupid ass answer, then shook her head. “Okay, we’ll shelve that one. What do you mean, chronological order? Is there another order?”

That was a very good fucking question. “Mmmaybeeeee?” I questioned. She gestured at me to continue. “I have kiiind of two memories. But they’re both me. Maybe. Vincent and me- I mean Obake. That’s my name. Yeah, Obake.”

“Obake is your name?” She asked with a strange tone.

I rolled my eyes. “You try to come up with a vaguely feminine gender-neutral shapeshifter name with non-binary vibes.”

“What are vibes?” She questioned.

I looked at her in surprise. “You don’t know what vibes are? Like, feels? Aesthetic?”

“Oh, you mean energy. Whatever, doesn’t matter anyways. So, you’re a human?”

I deadpanned. “Human enough to get a concussion from slipping on a shower floor.”

“And human enough to be a walking memetic hazard?” She shot back without missing a beat.

I slumped my shoulders with a sigh. “Yeah, I guess? I don’t know anymore. I can’t even tell if you’re real or not.” My voice petered out defeatedly.

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“I…” she hesitated. “Maybe it was the mask? Or masks. I looked in your bag and found a stack of them. When you were “Vincent,” you were really defensive about them. Maybe you were possessed.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. I could see the wavering will in her eyes. The way her hand holding the blade loosened. I could probably just tell her “yes, that’s it,” and get her to untie me. We’d dump the masks and continue on, rebuilding a relationship that didn’t exist. It would be the safest option. But…

“I made those masks.” my voice came out like a whisper, but I knew Amanda heard it when her weight shifted on the bed, warry.

“You don’t understand! I, I-” a sob ripped it’s way out of my throat, “I didn’t think it was all real! I’ve been here for years and I,”

Fuck I couldn’t fucking talk.

“What wasn’t real?” She asked, her voice painfully neutral.

“I put them on dead bodies.” My voice cracked. I was full on ugly-crying at this point, the years of desperation flooding all at once. “I did it because I was paranoid first, about them watching me. But I was just so alone, so I thought why the fuck not make some silly little characters while I’m at it, huh?” I coughed. My throat was so dry, and my head was pounding, but I couldn’t stop, the words flowing out of my mouth.

“I was so god damned desperate. I spent months crafting little stories, or reading diaries to “bring them back to life.”

To be honest, I never really cared about the “sanctity” of the dead bodies or any of that crap. Everything dies, and these randos weren’t anyone I cared about. But it was one thing to mess with dead bodies. It was another thing if…

“Do you think I brought them back to life? As weird thinking necro-golems!? I, I made one into my girlfriend once! Oh god, she became so real it scared the shit out of me! I thought I was going insane! I mean I was, but-”

Was I so delusional that I’d turned myself into an anomaly that could make my fantasies real? If I got out of here, and made it to society, would I be locked up in confinement for years of experiments? Was all of this for nothing!?

“I can’t go back home to her.” The realization hit me like a flaming dump truck. My brain became so utterly overwhelmed that it wrapped right back around to good ol’ reliable; dissociationnnn, yayyyy!

“I’m a freak. A monster. I’ll never get to see my girlfriend again.” My voice was calm and level, as casual as ordering a big mac from the obesity store.

Amanda put the knife on the floor, and began untying the knots around my wrists. “Wha- what are you doing?”

She laughed as she pulled the knots loose, “I have no clue.” And then she leaned in to… wrap her arms around my shoulders? “You look like you need a hug though, so,” she shrugged.

I was baffled, my arms still hanging limply by the bedframes, “Y-you don’t know what I can do, though. I don’t know what I can do. I mindfucked you for nearly a year by accident!” My voice was cracking again. God, my everything hurts, and putting her weight on my bruised body wasn’t very pleasant, but I reallly wanted her to keep holding me.

She nodded. “True. It’s really stupid of me to trust an anomaly I know nothing about.”

“What if I’m not real either? What if “Obake” is just another mask that I never realized I was wearing? What if this whole dimension is fake and in my head and I trapped you here somehow?” The words fell out of my mouth.

She shrugged again. “I dunno. If I’m wrong to trust you I get “mindfucked” into having a nice friend or maybe die from anomaly bullshit. If I’m wrong to leave you I’ll be wandering this place alone for who knows how long. If those notes you had were the real Vincent Hugh’s, then he died after going crazy wandering this place alone for five years. So, I think sticking with you is the better option.”

I was rendered speechless at her logic. My mind was racing, but it was too hard to think. So much had happened in the past twenty four hours that my mental capacity was running long past empty and hitting the negatives at this point. My unga bunga brain didn’t even have enough energy to be embarrassed or even horny from being tied up naked and hugged by a pretty girl. That seemed like pretty solid confirmation to me that Obake brain was not even remotely capable of dealing with All This Shit, so I promptly closed my eyes and let myself pass right the fuck out again.