Call Me V

[callmevonw-blog]

000 - The First Night

So, I’ve finally taken up trying to use this journal. Some people try to talk journaling down because it’s unnecessary for some reason, but all of those people can go die in a fire for all I care. Let me introduce myself, properly. Name’s V. Whether or not that’s short or anything is debatable, but you aren't gonna get any other info out of me, so don’t @ me. I’ve been involved in this spectacle for a little while now, and I don’t think that a war can just... fizzle out of existence just because someone else wants it to.

I’ll be honest, I just remembered I had this thing. I owe Mary a favor. Maybe I’ll get her some... like... art equipment. I don’t know... I want an easier in on conversations with the others. I’ve mostly kept to myself for a few reasons, but I’m working past it, don’t ask. In any case, I’m in need of new friends in this odd post-apocalypse, but hopefully I’ll get a little closer with the others in due time. I’ll write up a bit more in the coming days, but as for now, you can find me here.

-V

[callmevonw-blog]

How I got mixed up in all of this.

It was a calm morning. Too calm. I couldn’t fully tell you what time it was, when it happened, but the morning tried to hide away the truth. It was a Saturday, that much I remember. I remember my brother, watching one of the many many videos that YouTube had to offer. After breakfast, he went upstairs. That should’ve been the first warning sign. Mitch never wants to be alone, always socializing with us, or his friends, but he rarely wanted to go into his room and be alone. Only two things could’ve caused this. And both of them are in there.

Walking towards his room was the second warning sign. I noticed Mitch had drawn on a couple of photos I had of my friends. Or rather, my old friends now. One had strings tied to them, their mouth and eyes scribbled out. Another had a line along his throat, x’s over his eyes. I couldn’t explain it at the time, but I think I understand now. He knew who was a puppet, and who was a threat to me. He tried to warn me of them.

The inside of his room was dark. Black, except for lines of red. The last time I had been in his room, it was a pastel gray, and some of it still showed through the blackness in my mind.

“Welcome.”

His voice was different too. I didn’t notice it before, but his voice was deeper, and had an accent I couldn’t place. Yet he looked asleep in his beanbag chair. That’s when I noticed the same puppet strings from the walls, they all ran down, in the direction of the chair my brother was lying in. I knew it was too late for him. But I least I could save myself. I ran out of the house before he realized I knew. Before he realized he hadn’t turned his sister into a puppet.

I was halfway across town, when a cop stopped me.

“Are you *$^%#*?” (I blocked out my name, obviously.)

“You’ve got the wrong person, sir.”

I almost missed the red bands on his left forearm, sticking out of the car window. I kept walking.

“Why don’t I take you to the station? You seem lost out here.”

“I know exactly where I’m going sir.”

“But you’re a long way from home, aren’t you?”

“My home is another couple of blocks down the way I’m going. I’ve lived in this city all of my life. My mom is expecting me home.”

“Then how come your mom called us five minutes ago, looking for a member of the family trying to desert him.”

I ran. I ran as fast as I could. I wandered out of the city, hiding from the main roads, in case those blasted puppet cops came back for me. I never once leaved the city, and my phone wasn’t going to be much help. It would only let them know where I was.

It would be several days before anyone saw me again. I knew I had entered the neutral territory by now, I had to. I reappeared in the open. I was on the outskirts of a town smaller than my old home. At least I’d be safer here, I thought. Boy was I wrong. It wasn’t pretty.

I made my way into the heart of the small town. My earbuds drowned out the gunfire. I didn’t notice there was a problem until my music cut out.

“Hello again, sis. Long time no talk, huh?”

I turned around. Mitch was gone. His hair had turned a faded blue, a dim reflection of the brother that was.

“Game over.”

“Not today, bitch!”

That voice wasn’t mine. It belonged to another, someone I hadn’t yet seen.

I didn’t bother looking behind me. I walked up to him.

“What are you doing? Stay away from the puppet!”

The voice was getting drowned out by my footsteps. The person must’ve thought I turned. That was until I punched Mitch in the face.

“Dick.”

“I was looking forward to killing him.”

“Spare him for now. If we win this thing, we free him.”

I turned around, facing the figure who was before me. He stood tall, his pistol still aimed at where Mitch was, now on the ground.

“And you are?”

“El. (@defenderel) Defender Faction in the American branch of the Overnight Watch.”

“Then you’re just who I’m looking for.”

“What’s your name?”

I couldn’t get out a single word. Mitch had somehow sprung up, stabbing me in the side. I mouthed ‘kill him now’ to El before passing out.

It would be several days before I woke up. It was dark when I did. Another person was in the room.

“Hi.”

They seemed surprised that I would stir this late into the night.

“Oh my stars you’re awake!”

At least, I thought I heard that.

“I stabilized you. El found you, you apparently had the moxie to punch a puppet directly in the face, and then you wound up here.”

“How long was I out for?”

“A couple of days.”

I immediately skipped to the question that drove me here in the first place.

“I want in.”

“You can’t just request a want in.”

“You heard what El said. I punched my puppet of a brother in the face. The dick has some nerve trying to pick a fight with me. He always knew I was stronger in both body and mind.”

“Well I’ll be. El’s story holds out. I’ll speak with Owen.” (@investigatorowen)

“Owen? Jeez, how many names do I need to remember?”

“Oh! Sorry, my name’s Liz. Doctor for the Amer-”

“American branch of the Overnight Watch. El already informed me.”

“Right. I’ll tell Owen you’re up.”

She left with that. I looked over at the bedside table. A blank journal was left there. I looked at it.

“From Doll. (@cutthedollstrings) To use when awake. If you’re reading this, Owen will soon recruit you into the Watch. We need all the help we can get right now.”

I opened it up. It was a small leather-bound book, with a cover that shone lavender in the moonlight. I didn’t have a pen, but I figured I didn’t have to write anything in it just yet. After all, I wasn’t confident it was/would be mine.

I left the journal on the desk, wanting to stand, but felt a pierce in my side when I tried.

“The fucking bitch.”

I hoped I never see him again. A man entered after that thought.

“You must be Owen.”

“And you, the nameless girl who thought it was okay to punch a puppet.”

“He’s my brother. I thought I had a right to punch him.”

“You could’ve gotten turned.”

“I could’ve died. What reason did El have to save me?”

“We need the numbers. We’re running out of higher-ups to demote to keep us in line.”

“Well... what can I do to help?”

“You can start by telling me your name.”

“You probably know I’m not that trusting to just give you my name.”

“Well who are you, nameless girl?”

I thought about it for a few seconds.

“Call me V.”