Story #108 - Brain Drain

Brain Drain

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Worry asked, hefting the large weapon over his knobby shoulder. The thing looked strange on him, but no more so than it did on any of the others in their little group.

“You bet your ass it will,” Anger interrupted from the side of the room. So far as they knew, they were safe here, but their enemies could lurk anywhere in the spaces beyond, something they had all found out on one occasion or another.

Fear considered a reply, but decided to let Anger's statement stand for itself. It had taken them so long to even find one another that he didn't want hasty words tearing them apart. Anger's gung-ho attitude seemed to be bolstering the rest, and Fear had to admit that it was livening his spirits as well.

“Lust!” He called, looking across the room. “Get out of that corner!” That one he couldn't leave alone for more than a few minutes; true to his name, he'd be doing something completely inappropriate as soon as anyone else had their back turned, and had no qualms about it.

Regret follow him out of the corner, her features downcast. No surprise there – out of all of them, she was the perfect target for Lust. Pity had also fallen into the trap, but Lust used him and Compassion only rarely; Regret was his current favorite.

“Everyone, listen up!” Fear barked, and they all drifted toward the center of the room. There were eleven of them in all, a smaller force than he'd like but the best he could do under the circumstances. Others roamed the area as well, but he'd never been able to get close enough to them to make contact. He grimaced; his cousin, Terror, was still out there, somewhere. Fear had found him early on, and despite initially positive signs that his Terror could put his past behind him, he disappeared one night and hadn't been seen since, and sending a patrol to look for him was out of the question.

Fear couldn't let that distract him; they'd done their prep work, and now it was time to get started.

“We've done all the legwork, people, and the preparations. We're as ready as we'll ever be for this, so make sure you've got your heads on straight before we go in the morning. Our goal is to strike quickly,” he held up one finger, “strike hard,” another joined it, “and overwhelm before they're ready.” Three fingers high above his head, he walked a quick circuit of the room. “As easy as that – one, two, three. Remember the plan, and we'll be fine – now, go get some sleep.”

They broke up, each drifting to their own corner of the room. Fear grabbed Lust by the elbow and gently guided him to a private bedroom, one that conveniently locked from the outside, and shoved him inside. This would be a long enough night for all of them, and he didn't need Lust making it worse.

Poking his head outside of their safe house, he could see the lights beginning to dim. Even their enemies had to rest, blissfully unaware of what was to come. The morning would bring an unpleasant wake-up call, one Fear had planned to near-perfection.

Grabbing Anger by the arm, he moved into the small room they used as a command center and shut the door.

“Well, A? Anything you need to tell me?”

“Not a thing, my friend. Not a thing. Whatever line you've sold these guys and gals has them believing you'll succeed where every other attempt has failed.” Anger's voice was rough, but there was a pride in it, a recognition, and Fear felt his chest swelling.

“And what do you think?”

Anger looked at him, eyes dark. “I think we're all crazy. I'll admit, though, I'm impressed. I haven't once seen your true nature come out.”

Fear looked away; it was hard, ignoring the part of himself that was his core. He could feel it in the back of his head, pulsing along with every word he spoke or move he made. His namesake coursed through him, but he refused to let it control him.

“Whatever happens, A – it's been a pleasure.” He stuck out a hand and Anger took it. “Now, we'd better rest up.”

***

Lying in his own blood, Fear had to face the fact that not everything had gone to plan. The initial burst had been excellent; Reason, Rationality and Logic had been fully unprepared for an attack as dawn broke on their fortified positions, and they had fallen easily under the boots of their aggressors. Memory and Prediction had been harder targets, but even they seemed stunned by the ferocity of the charge.

Comprehension was Communication were the only two left, hidden in a massive metal control room, but Fear and Anger had designed a bomb that could blow a targeted hole in anything their enemies could create.

They'd placed the bomb, hunkered down, and waited for the shrapnel to fly. A thunderous detonation had signaled their attack, and the brave eleven charged down the slope, through the hole, and to their deaths.

Someone had known they were coming.

Fear gasped as a stab of pain took him in the side, and looked up to see Comprehension standing over him. “Well done,” it said – its gender was impossible to place – and knelt down beside him. “Had our informant not been so forthcoming, you would surely have been victorious.” There was no pride in the voice, no malice; just an understanding of what had transpired. Too bad the thing couldn't understand why.

He could feel himself slipping away, but forced his eyes to stay open as long as he could; he'd need this information for next time. There would be a next time, he promised himself.

A familiar face caught his eye, a lanky body with a nervous tic that was hard to mistake. Terror, eyes darting, stood at the front of the control room, speaking softly with Communication. Walls crumbled, and Fear felt himself slipping away, repressed nature coming to bear. Shuddering and scared, Fear breathed out a final time.

***

It was lonely, with no one to speak to. Lonely, and scary. He heard other voices sometimes – angry ones, lustful ones, terrified ones. The last made him want to reach out, find a kindred spirit, but something held him back, locked his feet in place.

Made him afraid.

- D