It spewed through me like a burning waterfall, drenching my veins and cells. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. NOOOOO. No. No. NOOOOOO. No.

No.

No.

I couldn't believe that. I couldn't believe that about Khan. He couldn't be the spy. He couldn't. No.

That doesn't mean anything. Yes. Touché, I guess.

"Letting it sink in?"

I glared. "No. He'd never do."

They shrugged. "Hey. If you want to die on that hill, go ahead. You know he's constantly keeping stuff from you, and he's a great liar."

I rubbed my thumb and index finger together, thinking. They were right. He did constantly keep things from us, but no. I had to trust him.

"Let's move," they said, pointing at me. "It could be Yaz helping me. She does have a thing for revenge. And girls who are good at revenge are good at manipulation."

"Lies. I did nothing to Yaz for her to get revenge."

"I don't know. You and Rucker are close — too close. And she has a weird thing with him. She might like him."

"And she sees your relationship with him as a threat. She could be jealous," they said, tone singsongy. "She even said something about that, remember? About girls getting jealous over—"

"Yeah, but it pertained to a theory about you being Bae." I glanced at the glowing mask, straining to see if I could get a feeling that it was Bae. But I couldn't tell.

"Anything's possible, piggy," they said. "It could be Rucker helping me—"

"You can cut that shit out now," I shouted, cutting them off. "I'll believe nothing you say about Rucker. Nothing."

"He did kill his own brother."

"So?"

"Plus, he has a thong collection the size of Texas. One in each color. He even has an LED light one."

A sudden laugh bumbled in my belly, and I held it back. "Doesn't make me suspicious of him in the slightest." I did wonder why he had so many thongs though.

"What about Seb then? It could be him. Maybe I am him?"

"But you probably think that Sebbie could never do anything like this, right?"

I stiffened. How did they know what said? No. Sebbie is a normal nickname for Sebastian, right? But they did know about the alters, but they could've easily been watching that whole Sebastian-Jookie fight scene and found out that way. Or maybe not.

"You've met my alters," I said, slowly testing the waters.

"Yes. I've met all of you before. The Brainiac aka the weakling aka you. Weirdo aka Chompers. The one who mutilated my ankle. And the holy Nite."

How the hell did know about ?

You have some explaining to do. How the hell do they know your name? I never told anyone. Well try. That's no excuse. I leave and still have my memories. What's your last memory? Before Tini called you back.

Is that why he said I rejected him before —WAIT. HOLD UP. WHAT? We buried you years ago. How did you meet Jonathan? We started dating last year. Why didn't you say anything about this before? I really wish I could strangle you right now. Why didn't you try to communicate with us? Like write a message in a journal or something or a video.

What did you do when you were out? So that's why I would have different clothes in my closet sometimes and random stuff around the house. I always thought it was Tini, but she always denied it. Oh my god! Was it you who bought that Chanel bag on Tim's credit card tenth-grade year? I was grounded for two months because of that!

God, I hate you.

What's your earliest memory? Nothing before then? Wait if you used to party and stuff, you could've met Jookie that way or them? Maybe like — never mind. We don't have time for this discussion right now. But basically, this person could be anyone.

Confusion broke out over my face, which made them laugh.

"Still clueless? That makes me so sad since we were like siblings."

Siblings. Not sisters. Boy.

"Are you a boy?" I asked.

"I don't believe in gender. I can be who the hell I want to be and no one's going to tell me different."

I know.

"We did have matching piggies, but you destroyed yours." Intense anger lined every word. "How could you do that? How could you just light it on fire like that?"

Matching piggies? I shook my head. "My mother gave me that stuffed pig a long time ago. And we didn't—"

They tossed something at me. It was fluffy and soft. Using the pink light to see, a pig plushie, an identical copy of the one I used to possess, sat on my legs. It was old and tattered a bit, but one of the same. "Someone else gave them to us."

"No." My fingers crunched into the soft fabric, head hurting. "My mother—"

"Nah eh. Someone else gave them to us," they repeated. "You got one first and named it piggy, and you loved it so much that you made me call you that name. Why do you think I call you piggy?" The pink light twinkled to a softer hue. "I eventually got jealous and they got me one too."

This made no sense. I searched my memories, and I could only see my mother giving it to me. I didn't remember anything else. "You're lying—"

"I never—"

"You're pathetic," I said, cutting them off. "I don't know who the fuck you are, and I don't care. You're just a controlling bitch with daddy issues just like Tini said."

A rage-filled gargle left the mask, as thin wisps of electricity whisked across the atmosphere. They lurched at me, trying to grab me, but I tossed the plushie at their face. It bounced off the mask, and they stumbled for a moment.

I swung my foot up and smashed my ankle between their legs. They squeaked and flopped back into the wall. Boy or girl, that still hurt.

I then picked up the heel shank and rolled to my feet. I darted toward the light, pumping my arms, using my adrenaline boost to give me strength and speed. The ending — the light — seemed so far yet so close.

"You're not going anywhere," they screamed, and I kept running, never once glancing behind me. "Take this."

A squeaky tick warmed the air, and sharp metal plunged into the bottom of my feet. The sudden assault of pain shocked my body, and I tumbled to the floor mid-movement. I rolled a few feet, harsh points stabbing my flesh along the way. I landed against the wall with a solid clunk.

Slivers of tacky blood poured from the various holes on my body as I heaved myself upwards into a sitting position. My fingers rubbed the ground, and a sheet of spiky metal scratched my palm. Nails. A moment later, the warped metal retracted back into the floor.

"What did I tell you, piggy? You're in my world. I control everything." They stomped toward me, and I squared my shoulders, my fist still clutching the heel knife like it was my only lifeline.

They got close to me, pink lights blinding me. A hand slapped me, knocking my spit and blood across my cheek. My head banged back against the wood, the aroma of sweet strawberry choking me.

"You keep pushing me, piggy." Their fingers gripped my hair and slammed me back into the wall, the scent becoming so great my eyes watered. "Maybe I won't make you a sacrifice. I could kill you right now." Plugging my nose, they shoved gloved fingers into my mouth.

My body instantly went into panic mode, no air going into my lungs. Heart racing like a clock on ecstasy, chest burning, I thrashed around, punching and scratching, but they wouldn't let go, going deeper. The tips of their fingers clogged my throat, scratching at it like a cornered dog.

Getting lightheaded, my vision blurred, and everything felt weightless, timeless. My world became a bright jigsaw puzzle, each piece becoming darker, blacker. That's when toxic green punched through, controlling me. It moved my arm, feeling for the heel knife.

I found it and jabbed it into their side in quick succession, with no hesitation or care. They choked and let go, thick rivulets of blood trickling down my hand.

Flopping away and inhaling deep, I sucked in air like a suction feeding animal. Globs of spit speckled my face from my savage coughing, body trembling.

How did you do that?

My lungs were still wheezing when I saw them move in front of me.

Banging their fist into the ground, everything wobbled.

"B-bad, piggy," they grounded out, the strawberry scent intensifying full throttle now.

"God, you stink." I coughed, feeling that scent take over everything, annoying my already irritated lungs. My hand still clenched the bloody heel. "Do you bathe in Febreze or something?"

"People just don't understand the uniqueness of strawberries." The mask lights flashed like a techno light. "They're majestic red beauties that should be worshiped for their heavenly flesh and delicious core. And their leaves should be eaten with precision and care, of course, no one does. They discard them like heathens."

"Who eats the leaves on a strawberry? They're disgusting."

"How dare you?" The static in their voice hit maximum, penetrating my ears, making me flinch. "Never disrespect the holy red fruit."

"Wouldn't that be apples?"

"You bitch!" They charged at me, and I kicked at them when they got close, making them stumble.

I fought through the pain and exhaustion and took advantage of that moment of weakness and distraction and lunged for them. We fell to the floor together, and I started yelling and stabbing them with the heel knife.

I didn't pay attention to where I was hitting but just kept doing it, using my anger and pain to fuel my fast speed. I felt them try to block and push me off, but I kept going, putting all my fears and energy into it, getting revenge for what they did to me in the tunnel weeks ago.

"How's that feel, huh?" I screamed.

They thrashed and cried out, static ringing out, electricity caressing my skin. With everything stab, fresh blood splattered my hands and face. I plunged too deep on my next hit, and the shank got stuck.

While trying to pull it out, a punch to the stomach toppled me over. They tried to crawl away, and I tried to grip them back, but they sliced at me, cutting my arm.

I hissed and moved back, falling against the wall. They collapsed not far from me. For a minute or two, all that could be heard was our hot breathing. In and out. Short pants.

I wiped my bloody hand across my sweaty forehead, never taking my eyes off the flicking pink lights.

"Who are you?"

"You know."

"I really don't."

They continued to wheeze, the noise matching the pink lights. "We've met before, just like you met Jookie before."

"Bae?"

"Call me whatever you want, as I said, I go by many names."

"Just cut the damn theatrics. Who are you!!"

Why do you exist?

"You really want to know who I am?" They sat up straight and cocked their head to the side, giving me the creeps. "I'm you."

"What?"

"You killed Layla."

"Stop messing with me."

"You wrote those pink messages on the walls."

"I think I would remember doing that."

"Do you remember everything at the pool party?"

"No. I passed out at some point, but I slept through the night."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"And think about it, does Bae even exist? Rucker didn't see her, yet he was so close."

I ground my teeth. "I know what you're trying to do and it's not working. Jookie acknowledged her. I'm not—"

"Playing it up for the cameras. It's his job to make you look crazy." They leaned back. "You're a crazy little piggy just like our mommy."

"I'm not crazy."

"Gmie even said there wasn't a third person with her," they said, pink lights flashing fast. "You've been imagining stuff since you've been here."

"Gmie heard your footsteps in the tunnel. You exist. I'm not crazy."

"Gmie heard the producers make footsteps."

"If you don't exist, then who am I talking to? Who made Layla kill herself? Why did Jookie say—"

"You did all that. I'm just another alter in your mind that you projected to the outside world to help you cope."

"Stop," I said, feeling a headache come. Why did it all sound so true?

"Maybe, none of this exists. This whole game is just a fabric of your imagination. To cope with your horrible childhood and existence." They stood, and I jerked back, ready. "I just want to talk. I have no weapons." Something dropped on the floor near them, and they stepped closer to me.

"Stop calling me crazy! I'm not," I said, shaking my head. "I'm not my mother. I'm f-fine."

"You're not." They continued to walk toward me. "Want proof? I'll take my mask off, and when you look at me, you'll see your own face." They stopped. "This is all just a delusion and an illusion. Jookie talked about illusions during that Rucker game, remember? His words were your own words. None of this is real. It's all just a simulation of your own fantasy."

"Why would this be my fantasy? Why would I want to be in a house full of killers?"

"To prove that you're not your mother and to cope with what you did. Yes, it seems like a nightmare, but look at all the positives. You got a brother again. Friends who love you. Cute boys. A fantasy — something you've never had before."

I shook my head, wrapping my arms around myself. "No. You're lying."

"Tim doesn't exist either," they said, making me twitch. "Just another fantasy. You wished for a father, and you made him up. All these people are just voices in your head."

No. None of this was true. I did hear Tim in my head sometimes, but that was normal. I was just reliving memories.

They were close to me now, inches away. I was speechless. Our closeness caused the pink light from the mask to shine, revealing their body form. Normal, but exactly the same height as me.

Gloved hands touched my face, and I balled my fist, not attacking, not knowing what to believe. Why did it all make so much sense?

I let them caress me for a moment before I saw their hand start to lift their mask, my heart dreading what I might see under it.

♟