Chapter 30: I Still Am

The man's words drew me up short; "time loop technology?" I recalled my own use of a tin foil hat at the start of all this and the multitude of theories I'd heard and given for the strange vortexes. Somewhere along the lines, the how of the thing became almost unimportant.

My captor seemed to think it was all an alien invasion, and for all I knew, he was right. I was pretty sure I wasn't a part of it though, identity issues and all.

While I couldn't be sure it wasn't an invasion, I didn't think it was necessarily intentional, at least not as seen on TV. There were certainly unfamiliar creatures—and the crystals could conceivably be alien tech. The Gremlins and other monsters didn't strike me as a ground force, however. Sori did have a certain alien tech-ness to it, mainly because it was a floating metal sphere. Then again, Sori seemed pretty disconnected from reality, so not exactly a top pick for a commander.

Thus far, I'd had more immediate concerns than trading theories with people. Still, even with all the puzzle pieces I'd managed to gather, I had no idea what picture those pieces made.

"I can't say I have many answers," I said hesitantly, looking along the floor for the aforementioned camera. Spotting it peaking out near one corner of the door, I crouched down to better look into it. "Can I ask who I'm speaking with?"

"Before all this, I was Sheriff, and I suppose I still am. I'm not here to talk about me, however. I want to know about you and your kind." The man answered.

"Well, Sheriff, before the vortex fell, I was just a guy. I've come across a lot of odd things since, but none odder than waking up with a monstrous body. You sound like you've had some strange experiences yourself. I'd be happy to trade information. Otherwise, I don't suppose you're honoring the phone call and lawyer rules, are you?"

The Sheriff snorted. "You know something of us then. No, those rules are meant for times of peace and civilization. Those things are gone. Even if you could find a phone that worked or a lawyer to take your case, I’m the only judge you’ll get. You claim you were just an ordinary person. Why don't you tell me about that portal you just opened up in thin air? What tool did you use to do that? We didn't find any crystals on your body."

I opened my mouth to not really sure what to say. There wasn’t much chance that the Sheriff knew anything about Sori, and I doubted I'd be doing myself any favors by revealing I knew anything about a weird eldritch eye that claimed to have scheduled the apocalypse. It would be an equally bad idea to admit I picked it up after killing a woman on the ethereal plane, or whatever. I had a suspicion that knowing more than the Sheriff would only get me in more trouble. Besides, there was no reason to share my life story.

"I wish I knew," I said. "I fought another monster, one that was hurting some of my friends; afterward, I discovered I had a little pocket closet. Maybe some mons-err- aliens have the ability and it just got transferred to me." Unfortunately, I underestimated the Sheriff's desire for answers—or overestimated the value he placed on life, at least my life.

"So, killing you could give me or my men that ability. Good to know. Men, Kill it."

My eyes widened in panic. Not panic for my own impending death. That I was almost used to. No, I'd killed Kay in the ether and taken the Shadow by removing her memory crystal. My panic was from realizing I didn’t know if dying in my Shadow Alcove would afford them the same opportunity.

Faster than I could blink or a trigger could be pulled, I leaped forward, my shape snapping back to the wolf as I left the Alcove and slammed my shoulder into the door. Hopefully I could break out before they could take me down, but at least they shouldn’t be able to take the Shadow.

Bullets shattered through the door and smashed into me. Between the door and the bulletproof vest they'd kindly left on me, I didn't immediately go down. I felt the impacts hammer against my chest and flashes of hot pain as shrapnel or lucky shots sliced into my limbs and face.

Back at the start of all this, I probably would have gone down right away, overwhelmed by pain and fear. Then again, maybe the panic would have been enough to see me break through the door despite it all. Gunfire continued to ring out as the closet door began to cave. I closed my Shadow Alcove and forced my way through the remnants of the closet door, but I could already feel the blood loss catching up to me.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Between reflexive blinks due to impacts and debris and my own fading vision, I didn't see much of the room on the other side of the closet door. We appeared to be in a gas station or a convenience store. A shelf was overturned between the closet and the plain-clothing deputies shooting at me, acting as cover, presumably in case I shot back.

I'd left my weapons in the Shadow Alcove, not willing to risk them, or so I rationalized when I realized I was unarmed. More honestly, it was only as exhaustion weighed down my limbs, making me sluggish, that I began to think defensively. I hadn't even thought to use an illusion or emotional glamour, not that the door would have made that very easy.

I considered a last-ditch illusion, maybe dropping a terror glamour on the Sheriff, if I could get out and spot him, but my vision was getting dark, and for some reason, I seemed to be on the ground.

Sighing, I let my head fall to rest on my shoulder as my body continued to shake under the barrage of gunfire. I wondered what it was about being a seven-foot-tall monster that made me always rely on headlong brute force when under pressure.

Next time, they won't know what hit them, I thought as my mind relaxed into oblivion...

I woke up in the closet, lying on the floor with a sliver of light shining in my eyes. With a groan, I sat up. There wasn't yet an endoscope poking under the door to keep watch on me. Presumably this was the start of another loop, checking my body for injuries confirmed it.

I needed to assume that the Sheriff would remember everything that had just happened. He didn't seem likely to be a Hybrid like Alice and Nia, not unless he was a hypocrite to call them traitors. Still, the Sheriff had clearly figured out a way to retain memories, or at least knowledge, across loops. He would hardly be the first. Even if he didn’t remember everything, he likely had a way to retain the parts he found important.

If, like Luke's patrons, he and his deputies were able to piece things together with their scattered memories, maybe even learning to recognize the different memory types like Alice, that could explain what he knew. It would also mean I had a window of time before any guards could be brought up to speed.

Then again, the Sheriff clearly knew about memory crystals and their ability to change spawn locations. It wouldn't be too surprising if he'd learned to use them to write himself notes across the time loops the way Alice had before she absorbed the crystal from her trauma-born monster.

It seemed to me I had two options. I could either try to bust down the door right away, or I could create an illusion that made me vanish before they used the endoscope to check on me.

There was at least one person on the other side of the door, and I had no reason to think the Sheriff was far away. Then again, while they'd set my spawn point to inside the gas station closet, it certainly wasn't likely to be their home base. Most likely, there was only one or two people outside the door. I doubted I was priority enough that the Sheriff had changed his own spawn point. It all depended on the value they placed on me.

They knew of other Hybrids, which was hardly a surprise since the traumas and their associated monsters were everywhere. The Sheriff had talked about them as "traitors," so he was at least aware of they were around. It wouldn't be beyond expectation that I was just one of his captives, which I really couldn’t afford to worry about anytime soon. The Sheriff also seemed to think I might be entirely alien, not a hybrid, so that might change the value he put on keeping me confined.

If they had me under enough guard that brute force wouldn't work, then depending on my illusions was the best choice. However, if I underestimated them again, or if I wasn't under heavy guard, then I'd have revealed an ability they didn't know about, making any future dealings unnecessarily harder.

After a moment to plan, I stood up and faced the door, backing up as far as I could. Unless the Sheriff really was a hypocrite and employed human-monster hybrids, anyone he had guarding me should be confused and disoriented by the time loop. If I didn't give them a chance to piece things together, escape should be relatively easy.

Preparing a terror glamour to drop on whoever I saw first, I launched myself at the door, shoulder first. Without a stream of bullets weakening it, the door only splintered and caved in a bit at my first strike.

I heard excited voices on the other side of the door but only made out the word "fire" before bullets began to break through the wood, some hitting me or my vest, others missing entirely. Ignoring the pain, I slammed into the door a second time, this time bending it enough that the latch slid free and the door swung open.

As I stumbled forward into the cordite-filled store, the gunfire hiccuped as the deputies caught sight of me. Then, my own momentum faltered as I caught sight of a familiar face.

Two bullets took me in the throat before I could recover. I choked and gagged as my hands tried to stem the bleeding while I stared. I managed a few more steps, but the shooter was either lucky or skilled enough to have hit something vital, and I could tell I wasn't escaping this time. None of which mattered to me at that moment. Behind the shelf that, for some reason, was already on its side, Jon was in a shooting crouch, his face blank as he fired at me, neither surprised nor concerned.

Dammit, not again.

Please.