• Tyler Wood's Journal Entry #12
    March 28, 2010


    tab "You...you again." It was all I could say. I wanted to forget everything. But hearing that voice again...It was the absolute last thing I wanted.
    tab "Ah, what a greeting. It seems as though our...friendship has not developed very far, has it?"
    tab "Friendship? Since when were we ever in a...friendship?" The voice laughed.
    tab "I kid, I kid. A friendship between you is the last friendship that I want."
    tab "And just what is that supposed to mean?"
    tab "Little Woods Jr., we're getting off topic here. I'm talking to you for a reason here."
    tab "Of course you are. And chances are, I'm not going to--"
    tab "Miss me, Tyler?" I fished through my memory, trying to remember where I heard that voice before.
    tab No need. Seeing I was already in my memory, I saw a picture, conveniently placed right in front of me. A snarling face, bulging muscles, tight shirt...
    tab "Jacob..." I whispered.

    tab "Yeah, Jacob! And I'm back ta' kick yo' a**!"
    tab "Jacob...Please."
    tab "What's going on?!" I cried, eager for answers. It was odd, wanting to have nothing to do with anything one moment, and the next pleading for answers. Odd, and kind of sad.
    tab "I think Jacob wrapped it all up pretty well. He back to kick your...well, you know."
    tab "This isn't a joke. What's going on?" I was done with dodging, smart replies. All I wanted was some straight answers. For once, everything laid onto me in one piece.
    tab "Hmph. Very determined and curious as ever, aren't you? Well, I've done enough explaining, so I'll give it up to Jacob." There was a small pause, and then Jacob said,
    tab "Guess what, Tyler? You gonna lose this time around, 'cause now I'm a robot! You got that? A ro-bot!" I laughed. Maybe it was a forced laugh, maybe it was genuine. I don't remember, but all I know is that for about a second, I didn't believe it.
    tab "A robot? As if!"
    tab "Don't piss me off, Tyler! 'Cause you's is already on a thin...a thin string with me! I knows I'm a robot! That's why I'm able ta' communicate with ya' over teleca--tele--whatever, 'cause Dr. Doc here's tellin' me you's a robot too!"
    tab "Dr. Doc!" I thought out loud, laughing to myself. "What a stupid--"
    tab Wait.
    tab Dr. Doc.
    tab I heard that name before. On the TV broadcast.
    tab And the voice. The voice the person being interviewed...He sounded identical to the one talking to me right now. So that meant...That interviewer...
    tab That was Dr. Doc?
    tab Hundreds of images popped in and out of the blackness. I looked around. Dr. Doc...News interviewer, as well as creator of me.
    tab How could he disguise two different images? There must've been some sort of trick.
    tab It was at that moment that I considered a different possibility. What if this man...Dr. Doc...what if he never actually created me? Maybe someone else did. Maybe this whole thing was a facade; just one giant lie.
    tab "You keep yo' hands off Stacy, you hear? She's mine, and if I figure out you two's was havin' some sort of somethin' togetha'...I'm gonna kick yo' little robot a** before--"
    tab "Jacob, that's enough." Jacob's ranting immediately stopped.
    tab "Listen carefully, Tyler, because I'm about to give you a detailed report on what we're up to." I didn't say anything. I was still trying to piece things together. Even when things were given to me straight, I found out, it all ended up crooked.
    tab "Today, we're going to play a little game."
    tab "You..." I finally let out. "You and I?" Dr. Doc laughed.
    tab "Of course not! All three of us. You, Jacob, and I. We-Jacob and I-are going to be taking your girl--I mean, Stacy, and you have to stop us. Simple, right?"
    tab "And what makes you think...What makes you think I even care about her? What makes you think that?" I could imagine him folding his arms on the other side, as he responded,
    tab "Fine. If you don't want to save her, that's none of my business." And with that, something appeared in the midst of the darkness. An image. I immediately identified it.
    tab Stacy Nickels.
    tab As moments began to pass, the image began to develop. I began to make out Stacy sitting on a chair, gagged and tied to the arms of the chair. Then, the image began to become alive and move. I could hear her grunting, I could see her struggling, could almost feel her pleading for some sort of help. Nothing came.
    tab Suddenly, I was no longer in black vacant space. I was in the middle of a large house. I was in a vacant room.
    tab No sooner than when I found that out when a gun shot rang in the air.
    tab Stacy stared in my general direction, eyes fading...
    tab It all happened so slow, though maybe it was just a couple seconds. In her eyes...Helplessness. Or more so, the need for help. The help I could've provided.
    tab I tried to reach out to her, to save her, only to be reminded that I had no physical body. I was nothing. I was, myself, helpless.
    tab And after I watched her close her eyes and take her last breath, I was almost relieved when Dr. Doc told me it was nothing but a probable outcome he created if I didn't save her. Almost, if not for the fact that it still would happen, if I didn't do anything.
    tab "So..." Dr. Doc began slowly. "Have you decided upon your...decision?"
    tab "Yes."
    tab "Wonderful," he went on, as if already knowing what I had decided. But, as always, he continued smartly, probably with a smug smile, "And that decision would be...?
    tab "I'm going to play your...I'm going to play your little game."
    tab "Splendid!" Dr. Doc responded, his voice full of fake enthusiasm. "Oh and one thing...You only have the rest of today."
    tab "What?!"
    tab "Oh, come now! All good games have time limits!"
    tab "This is not what I'd call a good game."
    tab "Mind you, boy! Where's your sportsmanship?"
    tab "You are so sick...and deranged..." There was a small pause, and then he said sternly,
    tab "Hmph. Coming from a guy who shot his own sort of dad down, that's really ironic. Why don't you try seeing things from a wider angle?"
    tab "You...!" I was quickly cut off, as Dr. Doc interrupted,
    tab "Aren't you wasting time? You have exactly 16 hours and 43 minutes until...you know what. Good bye. And may the best one win." And in a moment, I was back on the floor, now thinking a mile a minute.
    tab I couldn't figure anything out. What was going on? Who was really the bad guy here? Was it Mr. Woods, Dr. Doc...
    tab Me?