The Keeper of the Inside

[delicateMachine]

((Daniel had a head, and he didn’t hate having a head. That was progress!))

The rest of his body was sore, but that was probably just because he had fallen asleep in like, the worst chair. He had several chairs available to him and he had passed out in objectively the worst one, just because he didn’t want to move. Why was it objectively the worst? He was sore because he had slept in it; and none of the other identical chairs had made him ache. Ergo, it was the worst. At least he could understand body pain. It didn’t try to take over his whole being.

There were other rooms in the cabin, but Daniel hadn’t felt comfortable leaving the door. Sure, he’d hear it if anyone knocked on the door, but what if they were being chased by some vague and frightening menace? He’d only have seconds to let them in. He could do that much for his friends, at least. His friends that couldn’t be dead, weren’t dead, even though they were, if that made sense? Schrodinger’s dead friends. He knew he wasn’t being fully logical, but he also “knew” that Rachael probably hadn’t died whenever it took her more than a few hours to respond to a text and that didn’t stop him from getting his stomach twisted into a knot and imagining himself at her funeral and trying to figure out what he could even do with his life then.

Daniel had too many friends. That meant he’d have so many funerals to attend if he made it out alive. Would Michael flip off the coffin at Daniel’s funeral? That sounded like something he’d do. Daniel started half-crying, half-cackling until the announcement came on and shut him up.

It took him a couple names to figure out what was going on. Like, really figure out. The first thirty-seconds or so passed in blissful confusion; after that he had to start hanging onto every name, expecting every single one to be someone he loved.

Nope. Just Yaz. “Just” Yaz. Jay had killed someone, too. Before he could start to sort out his feelings about this or feel guilty about how relieved he was that “only” Yaz had died out of everyone he knew, like really knew, Daniel’s collar started beeping. Slowly beeping, but with the promise of beeping faster afterwards.

He scrambled, scooping up his bag. He knelt down on the floor for a second to try and figure out where he had kicked Yaz’s knife the previous day, because as scared as he was of it it was still hers, she’d given it to him, it could have made a difference if she’d held onto it but she hadn’t and he wasn’t gonna let it sit in a corner after all that, but then his collar beeped again and Daniel was forced to conclude that it wasn’t worth dying for.

((He pulled at the barricade, squeezed through the door, and skedaddled.))