All becoming too much. Everything had become too much, too much. I couldn't process it all.

In the beginning. A voice in my head, questions, no answers. Exploding cars, no cell service, no contact. Just worry and desperation to survive long enough to get answers. Survive and don't get shot, because bullets can come from anywhere. Brad got shot. Addy almost got shot. Off balance. Playing the game, cooperating, competing. Loser gets tortured.

Then. Passing out randomly. Waking up in the Pillars. Ted Lax - annoying, dickish. In charge? Maybe, maybe not. More questions, impossible technology, no escape. Still no answers. Cooperating, competing. Passing out randomly. Passing out again. Playing a game and driving my friends apart. Loser gets tortured.

Too much. Enough was enough, but the hits kept coming. Blows to the gut, the heart. Cheap shots. Constant questions, constant dread. Couldn't get my footing. How could I with all of this pressure? It was overburdening and I didn't want to bear it. I needed a hug, and I would take one at this point. Should've never not taken one.

My mind kept racing. Searching for a motive to hurt or to not hurt or a reason not to care. There was no point to any of this. These games, my life, the universe. Therefore, there was no reason to hurt anyone. You're not a violent person. You are not a violent person.

Breathe.

Couldn't breathe. Wasn't done processing.

Trapped in space, no escape. Questions, no answers. A group divided because people were petty. Dumb, stupid, pointless conflict. Poor communication. A conflict made worse by the explosion. We could have come together in the crisis but everyone was too stubborn and prideful and hopeless. Trying to survive and pick up the pieces. Hopeless. Passing out from- from overloading my system. Taxing my body. Being pushed past a limit.

A different limit was being pushed now. Here on the island. Another game. Instructions laughably unclear. Forcing myself to cooperate and play the game, even though- even though the loser gets tortured. We do what we're asked, what we didn't sign up for, and they hurt us.

They.

Ted Lax and his triggerman stood before me, with glass to their throats and glass through their hands. Guns lay in the dirt. Guns they were prepared to use.

On me. On us. They were here to hurt us again, even though we were cooperating.

Peace was all I wanted. I wanted the questions to go away. For us to return to our homes and to safety. Peace among friends.

I wanted less pressure and more pressure. Less burdens and more... more of the comforting sort of pressure. Security. Physical pressure, too. A heavy blanket or a hug from... from I don't know who, but a hug.

"Stop. Hold on, just... stop," I said to my audience.

I had them. Some or all of our captors. I had hurt and disabled them, and I could hurt them more. I would leverage that hurt if I had to. I had hostages.

My breaths were ragged and rapacious. I was seizing so much air. It felt empowering. An improvement. I was in a bad place, sure, but the breathing was getting me to a better one. A place of power.

"Hah... I- you lose," I informed the hostages.

It felt good, but this wasn't what I needed right now. I wasn't relaxed. Couldn't be rational. Was I breathing too much?

No one else around me breathed. Not Ted, not the triggerman, not Addy. They were on edge. Because of me. I was in control of the situation.

I was in control of myself, too. Astonishingly so. But I doubted they could see that. I needed to show them.

I forced my breathing to slow, let some of the passion subside, but held on to the anger. Rage didn't come naturally to me, but I needed it now. For this.

"Why are- no," I stumbled.

Too many priorities. Wasn't sure where to start. Where to start?

"Tell me everything," I demanded.

The triggerman made a face. Which was interesting, because he hadn't made a face when glass had skewered his hand. Through tight lips, he said, "You should calm down first."

Was that an insult? I was calm. How could he not see that?

Bitter attitudes lead to bitter ends. I only need one hostage, and luck never favors the smart-ass.

I wouldn't kill anyone, of course. It wasn't in my nature. Killing violated my core philosophy.

The important thing was that I could kill if it became necessary.

Meanwhile, Ted was barely holding it together. Sweat populated half of his face. A pale face with an out-of-place cheerful smile. Pretending to keep his composure...

...and failing.

Maybe I wasn't calm. I definitely didn't feel okay about what I was doing. Had I already gone too far?

The instant I removed the glass from Ted's hand, he sank it into his dress shirt. Pressure on the wound to staunch the blood loss. I inhaled deeply through the nose, and exhaled the word, "Sorry."

Addy suddenly remembered how to breathe, and was quick to run his mouth.

"Don't apologize to them, you damn Canadian! You know they were- woo, wow, I'm fuuucked. But you know they were trying to kill us, right?"

"Not kill. Capture," the triggerman corrected.

Kill, capture. Neither made sense. I turned on him, and asked, "Why."

They would answer. They had too. The game stone was hidden under my bare heel, which meant I could have the glass grow to penetrate their throats on a whim.

Not that I had it in me... But they didn't know that.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"We met before. The two of you and two others. Do you not remember?"

"I remember Ted Lax," I said, glaring at the businessman, "If you had answered my questions back then, it wouldn't have come to this. You understand that, right?" I punctuated the statement by expanding the glass so that it rested against the skin of his neck.

I hope that doesn't scar. I've already hurt him so much.

It definitely made it hard for him to speak, which is why the triggerman spoke for him, "You never asked any questions. You and your associates were inculcated, and you attacked us."

"We were what?"

The triggerman actually rolled his eyes, and said, "'Brainwashed'. We know this because we captured your associate in green. He does not answer our questions. Not one. Even to spare himself from our methods."

Green...

They had Brad?

And Brad was brainwashed? Were the rest of us brainwashed, too?

If we were brainwashed, was it possible we had forgotten some things? Mis-remembered? Had we fought these two before, and now we couldn't recall the event?

I was slipping, my anger being displaced by confusion. Confusion usually meant that my brain wasn't making the right connections. It could also mean that one or more of my assumptions were wrong.

Addy did a little skip, then a hop. He circled the two men, retrieving their guns.

I flicked my hand at the triggerman, and said, "Speak. The whole story and any relevant details."

And you better not get caught in a lie, I thought, too chicken to actually speak the threat.

The anger was fading, and I felt out of my element. Minutes had passed and the triggerman hadn't asked me to free his hand. Blood continued to paint the shard of glass that ran through, and he bore the pain with seeming ease.

This is his wheelhouse, not mine. Even now, he holds the advantage. Tread carefully.

"Yes. I think you need to hear this," the triggerman began, "We are investigating a company. They are called Good And You. Information on them is limited, but they recently bought Ted Lax's business. We suspect you and your associates have connections to the company. We suspect this because you attacked us while we were gathering intel in the Pillars. This was two days ago. You do not remember this?"

"I do not...," I trailed.

Two days ago. What was today? Tuesday? Wednesday?

The cards had been Monday. The Pillars of Humanity had been Tuesday. Then space. Now the island.

The business simulation had ended at 2 PM on Tuesday, and that felt like five or six hours ago. How was it still this bright outside? Was I in a different time zone, or was it Wednesday now? Could I even be sure?

Not if my memories were being altered.

Addy stood to my left, reciting words under his breath. Something about 'flies in the buttermilk'. I did my best to tune it out.

The triggerman continued, "We disabled three of you and acquired Bradley Pérez. We asked him a lot of questions. He was excellent in keeping his secrets; the best I've seen. No one is that good. We suspected a kind of brainwashing. So we investigated your identities and reached out to your families. The parents of Addy and Blaine were distressed. Both families were working with law officers to find their sons. Sons who had driven to a friend's house on Monday and not come home. The parents of Alec and Bradley did not hear about the disappearance of their kin until police showed up at their homes."

I nodded slowly because the story sounded legit. Unlike the others, Brad and I shared our own apartment and were less concerned with our families. Neither of us had great relationships with our parents, which is why I hadn't given them much thought. Were my parent's worried for me? Probably, but not really. I could see them worrying about the idea of their son disappearing, but I doubted they were concerned about me.

"A car was found on the side of the highway. Most of its contents had been destroyed in an explosion. Your car," the triggerman nodded to Addy, "Fingerprints were found on the vehicle to match the four missing boys. The explosion seemed to originate from the engine, and there were no signs of tampering. The law officers closed the investigation and declared you and the others dead. However, Teddy and I did not close our investigation. Too many loose ends. A careful hand guides these events."

So we were declared dead?

A chill might have rattled my body, but I was unsure. My limbs were already jittery from the adrenaline.

If we were 'dead,' then that meant no one was looking for us anymore. We could play through as many simulations as our captors wished, and no one would come to save us. The thought was... it was daunting.

One of the two people in the world that were still looking for us carried on, "A friend of Teddy's provided a lead. We followed it. It took us here, where we encountered you again."

"And then you tried to kill me because I had a fucking rock in my hand," Addy interjected, "Nice try, jippity, jackal- fuck, what's the word... Nice try, jackass, but I'm not buying any of what you're selling."

"Capture, not kill," the triggerman repeated, "You were not lucid then, but you are now. You can provide answers. I would not have killed."

"Very reassuring! Tell me, how would you have gotten those answers? Waterboarding? Fingernails? Bamboo up the-,"

"Addy," I interrupted. This wasn't constructive. I addressed our captives, "Ted, Mr..."

"Kioshi," the triggerman supplied.

"Ok. Ted, Kioshi," I began again, "We aren't brainwashed. At least, we aren't right now. I think. We won't attack you if you don't attack us. We want answers, the same as you, and I want to tell you our half of the story. I can't know for sure whether this is a good idea, but... I'm going to trust you."

"What? No!"

Before Addy could properly react, I retracted all of the glass back into the stone nestled under my heel. The blood didn't retract with it, leaving a puddle of warmness under my foot.

Addy sprung into action, flourishing his game stone and producing two extended spikes of rock.

Both of them missed their targets, even though Kioshi and Ted were standing perfectly still. He adjusted so the spikes were poised at their throats.

"Addy, please. Give this a shot. We have their guns."

"Guns don't mean squat! That Kioshi motherfucker could have an entire arsenal tucked away in his suit!" he argued. Still, he eased back, recalling the spikes to his game stone, "Fine. If we get shot and there is an afterlife, I'm finding your soul and beating the unliving fuck out of it."

Fair.

Kioshi reached inside his suit jacket, and I tensed.

He revealed a small spool of bandages, which he wrapped around Ted's hand before dressing his own wound. They had to work together because each of them only had one usable hand. Ted asked a question, and Kioshi assured that he knew a woman who could fix hands. When he was done, Kioshi looked to me and offered a nod, "Thank you. I will honor your trust. Will you tell us your half, now?"

"Yes, I can do that," I said, "Just... be warned? Some parts may be hard to believe. I wouldn't blame you if you dismiss all of it."

Kioshi nodded, and said, "I will keep an open mind."

With that, I dove into the details. I recounted the cards, the Pillars, the space station, and what we knew of the island. Everything important from start to finish. Explanations about the different technologies we encountered. Full retellings of my conversations with Ted.

Addy derailed the story a few times. At one point, he asked, "Can I cut in? Something is really bothering me, and I need to- I need to ask. How does the cow verse go in 'Skip to My Lou?'"

"'Cows in the cornfield, moo cow moo,'" Ted answered, flashing his teeth.

"Fuck, that's right!" Addy exclaimed, walking over to Ted. I went stiff, and I could see Kioshi do the same.

Addy fist bumped Ted's good hand, then turned to me, all smiles. "Ok, continue."

Kioshi waited to speak until it was clear I was done, "Thank you for sharing. I am less skeptical than you would imagine, and I believe most of what you said. With your permission, we can help to remove you and your friends from this island. However, someone has jammed our navigation. Escape may be precarious, but that is my idea."

"I have ideas, too. Loads," Addy remarked. He sat in the dirt beside where I stood.

"You should be resting," Kioshi advised him for the second time.

"Yes, you should," I said, nodding my consent. I still wasn't sure what his deal was, but he didn't seem well. Then, to Kioshi, I said, "I like the idea. Its what I wanted to do all along, and now we can do it safely."

"'Safe' is the wrong word," Kioshi commented.

Ted slapped Kioshi on the shoulder, and said, "Don't be a spoilsport, son! You always pull through in a bind!"

"My skill is limited," Kioshi admitted, "Also, I can usually call for back-up. But not when communications are down."

"If you're willing to put your life on the line," I said, making a fist, "Then the least I can do is let you. It's our best chance at escape."

"I will do my utmost."

Addy sat on the ground, arms folded and shaking his head at the sky. Clearly agitated, but not saying 'no.'

And so it was settled.

We would find Blaine, and then we were getting the hell out of here.