Chapter 18

Losing Control

The flight back to San was a quick one. Ty barely even registered the journey. To him, they were still back in that alley, and then suddenly they were walking through the front doors of the factory. He saw alleys and hallways and the faces of plush creatures running together in a blur as the bat carried him to San's office. The leader forcefully tossed him into the chair in front of San's desk.

“The boy, master,” the bat said, taking a respectful bow.

“Wonderful,” San grinned down at Ty from behind his desk. “I've been looking all over for you, you know.”

Ty said nothing.

“What's wrong with him?” San's voice rose a noticeable amount. “What did you do?”

“Nothing, sir. We did not harm it, just as you said. Well...” A sinister smile spread across the bat's face. “I did kill his friend.” He revealed Gentry's hands, previously hidden behind his back.

San's face lit up at the sight of the limbs dangling in front of him. Never before had Ty seen San's smile have real, true happiness behind it. Seeing it now forced him to turn away, the sight too terrible.

“Ran him straight through the heart,” the bat bragged.

San's cheery mood did not last long. The smile shrank away and he made no grab for the hands.

“Sir?”

Curious, Ty glanced at San from the corner of his eye. A steady calm overtook his happiness. Ty could feel the suppressed rage boiling inside of San, the very atmosphere in the room changing, preparing itself for a storm. The fact that he could hold such a force back gave Ty chills.

“Where is the puppet?” San said, voice icy cold. One wrong word and the bat could lose his head.

“O-one of the others is bringing him. He should be back... any second..”

“Do you know how many times that puppet and I have clashed? How many times he slipped out of my grasp when I had his life in my hands, poised to snuff him out? He is not like the others you've fought—never underestimate him.” San's arm extended across the table, his hand squeezing the bat's throat as he pulled the monster close. “Take those appendages away from me; alone they mean nothing. Get back there and bring me the body—NOW.”

San released its throat and the monkey tripped over itself in its haste to leave the room, murmuring, “Yes, sir,” over and over as it went. The door slammed shut behind the bat, leaving Ty and San alone in the room.

Last time he was here...

Ty looked at the chains on the wall against his better judgment. They were empty, but his mind recalled the image of the frog hanging there, its insides spilling out.

San caught him staring. He made no comment, cleared his throat and said, “Well then. I must say, I am very disappointed in you. I give you everything you could possibly want, and this is how you repay me?”

No reply.

San sighed. “I should throw you in a cell, make you think about what you've done. But I won't—I'm nicer than that. Instead, I'm going to spoil you—I saved the best room for last.”

Ty didn't like the sound of that one bit.

San clapped his hands and the Elves marched in, looking as disturbing as ever.

“Escort our dear friend to the room—you know which.” The Elves each put a hand on Ty's shoulder and walked him into the hallway. “Oh, one last thing. Guard the door. He is not to leave that room once he walks through it.”

Oh yes, this did not sound good at all.

#

The leader landed in the alley, monkey and puppet were nowhere to be seen. Either that moron got lost on the way back or something much worse happened here.

Against one of the buildings there was a dumpster, open, beckoning him to take a look inside. He walked toward it, slowly, his senses all heightened and ready for a fight. He made it to the bin without seeing or hearing a thing. Smell was another matter entirely, the stink of days-old garbage drifted from the dumpster.

He stopped in front of it and peered inside.

No Gentry, no dead body. He let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

He turned away, thinking to himself, Maybe the idiot really did get—

Something fell and hit the dumpster's lid, slamming it shut with a bang that ripped through the alley. The bat whipped around, his tail held out at the sound. No puppet. Just the corpse of the last minion he had left, his mouth open, tongue missing.

The leader backed away, trying to hide his fright, to shake it off and keep his cool.

He learned a long time ago that playful banter was the best cure for moments such as these. “Come on out you coward! I've got your hands here, don't you miss them?” He held them out, taunting his unseen foe.

A noise from behind him made him turn. Nothing. The bat walked backward, his eyes zipping around, searching.

He laughed, the sound fake and nervous even to his own ears. “Get out here, killer! Have you embraced what you are? Did you relish your first kill? Or maybe it wasn't your first? How long have you been doing this job, huh?”

He felt eyes on his back. Calmly, he looked over his shoulder to see the puppet standing there, fifty feet away, his face hidden in shadows.

The bat held out the hands again, his entire arm shaking. “They're right here, come and—”

One of the wooden hands jumped to life, punched him hard in the jaw, and knocked him back. He used the fall to his advantage, continuing into a backflip. He rubbed his jaw and stared at the hand on the ground, wondering how it had made contact.

He risked getting closer to look for anything out of the ordinary. He soon found it. One of the strands of strings had grown, leading off down the alley and back into Gentry's wrist. No, that wasn't right. Another piece of string slithered toward the cut string of the other hand. When the two strands touched, they joined together, leaving no trace they'd ever been apart. The two hands jumped from the ground, returning to their master's wrist.

In all of his months of service for San, not once had he wanted to run away from a fight. He did now.

Gentry was too fast. He hadn't even begun to move his feet before the puppet popped up directly in front of him. His expression a blank slate, eyes open and alight but empty and staring.

“What... what's wrong with you?”

His head revolved in an unnatural way until he faced the bat. A shadow slithered across his face and latched onto it, fusing with the wood.

“No, no!” The bat said, backing away. Gentry followed, his steps irregular and strange, his arms swung at his sides. “Stay away from me! STAY AWAY FROM—!”

The rest of his sentence was lost in screams.

#

Ty made sure to pay careful attention on the way to their destination. He memorized every hallway, every door, every turn. He was going to get out of here, one way or the other, and this time he would be better prepared.

After many turns—all perfectly locked in Ty's mind, ready for use when needed—they stopped in front of... a door made of LEGO bricks. Actually, a door was being too kind—a wall was more accurate. A wall of bricks in varying colors and styles with little to no thought put into their placement. He couldn't even locate a doorknob.

The Elves walked up to it, making no move to push or pull. Instead, the wall opened on its own, the bricks leaping aside as they passed, sinking into the door frame. Ty craned his neck to watch the bricks, amazed as they rushed to fill the doorway once he and his “escorts” were inside. The last brick clicked back into place, trapping him within the room.

The Elves stopped and released their hold on his shoulders. Ty faced forward, a large open field greeting him, complete with grass, sky, and clouds.

The Elves quietly slipped back out into the hall, leaving Ty alone with his mouth hanging open as he surveyed the massive room. For it was a room. Ty could see, off in the distance, the vague outline of corners and walls. They were very similar in design to what Gentry said about the box-like nature of the entire little world.

Something was different about it, though. The room wasn't nearly as well constructed as the city outside of the factory, but he couldn't place exactly why...

He looked down at the grass under his feet, his sense of discomfort growing. He bent over and touched the grass—or tried, at least. Several times. Each attempt brought the solid feel of ground instead of the familiar scratchiness grass should have. And not the dirt kind of ground either, it was something... else.

The grass moved as if a gentle breeze drifted through the room. There wasn't one. Ty stepped back, the grass parting and flattening under foot. Everything he did, the fake greenery mimicked what his actions would have caused with real grass.

He touched it again, felt the perfectly flat and smooth surface... and he finally got it.

He stood on a huge screen. The walls—the fake sky, the clouds—all of them were more screens, projecting a false environment that played out in real time.

Mystery solved, he looked away from the illusions and walked back to the door. He pushed, pulled, punched, kicked. The bricks remained firm.

It was worth a shot.

With no other option, Ty walked out into the strange horizon of artificial nature, wondering what he would find.

Unbeknownst to the boy, a large eye-like object watched him from above, darting behind a cloud every time his gaze drifted skywards.

#

Gentry woke up. Disorientated, he remembered nothing that had happened, nor where he was. He hopped to his feet and scanned the immediate area for danger. He was alone in the alley.

He looked himself over, horrified to see the cuts and holes covering his body. How did that happen? He held his head in his hands, straining to remember. Disconnected events flashed through his mind. Falling. Being chased. Bats, everywhere. Bricks and glass exploding. Ty—

Gentry remembered all that he needed to know: Ty was gone, likely locked away in San's factory at this very second. He ran, preparing his hand to fire at a roof and rocket him into the sky.

Behind him, deeper in the alley, the dumpster's lid was open again. Inside, two corpses lay among the trash, hidden from the puppet with no memory of murdering them just minutes before.