In Media Res

[Content Warnings: Religion, Violence, Geopolitics, Creative Punctuation. Feel free to read just the instructional chapters if these things are gonna piss you off (or if you’re at work)]

You’re running through the jungle.

The why seems distant now, lost in the many dark mazes you’ve made. All you feel now is the whip of branches in your face, the crunch of twigs underfoot, and the chop chop chop of an approaching helicopter.

The helicopter suddenly comes into view. It’s close. And there’s a guy sitting there with a machine gun. “I’ve finally got you!” he yells. He starts firing, and trees splinter and fall under the spray of bullets.

One of those trees falls on you. Trapped. You’re trapped. The helicopter is coming closer. He wants to see your face as you die.

But then a rocket bursts onto the helicopter, and it’s in flames. Your pursuer leaps away from what is soon to be flaming rubble. He lands close to you, so close that you can hear the sickening crunch of his bones snapping. His power pellet had run out.

He still turns towards you, using his arms to drag his shattered body closer. His face strains with effort, pain, hate, but in it you see something familiar.

He collapses, out of breath, and it becomes clearer.

My god, it’s him.

It’s him.

He looks at you and sees the same thing. The rage drains from his face. Now… now it’s just pain.

Just memory.

“I’ll never forget,” he says. “I’ll never forget the caves.”

And suddenly you’re back there with him. Those dark caves, those blackened rooms, with only the pellets and the chase.

The constant fear.

They’re abstractions now, but back then they were very real.

“I don’t know why you turned,” he says. “I guess I’ll never know.”

You start to explain, start to make excuses, but the words don’t come. An untrained man would be crying, but you are not untrained. Instead, you only say: “You will be blessed in heaven for what you have done.”

“Is it too late for you?” he asks. “Can I see you there?”

A bullet and he’s gone. The tree lifts off of you, and a hand extends, pulling you up.

You should feel relieved.

You’re safe.

Your fellow Ghosts have arrived.