The Missing Children Read online

  Today’s the first day I’ve ever written a journal.

  It being the first time, to be honest, I’m still having trouble figuring out what I should write.

  “Write about what happened that day,” he said, but it’s not like a lot of things happen around here worth writing about. It feels kind of pointless.

  Ahh, but I’m just being a pain. I owe him at least this much. Let me try again.

  Oh, right! Something did happen today. I brought my daughter out of the house for the first time.

  Her eyes practically lit up at everything around her as she asked me what “this” was and what “that” was. It was like watching a mirror image of myself at her age.

  Oh, and when she started chasing a big bumblebee around, you couldn’t say he was in a panic.

  I tried swatting it off, but then it started chasing me around. My daughter and I had a nice laugh about that.

  It’s almost summertime. I’m not sure how many it’s been since we started living here.

  Come to think of it, it was about this hot and humid when we came here, too. Stiflingly so.

  Looking back, it’s always so surprising. How quickly time flies!

  How many more summers will the three of us see together?

  How many more times will the three of us laugh and smile together?

  I should probably stop thinking about it. No point getting all despondent about it.

  Journals like these are all about reading them long after the fact and savoring all the things that seemed so important to you back then. I better try to make this journal as enjoyable as I can.

  If I’m going through the effort, I shouldn’t just focus on the day’s events. I should write about all the things I’ve seen and heard up till now, too.

  Yes. That should work.

  If, whenever my daughter takes an interest in the outside world, this journal does anything to help her out, then I couldn’t ask for anything else. That’s how I think about it, anyway.

  I’ll try to spice things up some more starting tomorrow.

  It’s not every day he gives me a present like this, besides. I need to write in it daily, if I can.

  And I think I’ll wrap things up that way today.

  Here’s to another great day tomorrow.

  xxx

  I was in a dark place.

  There was no left, no right, no up or down.

  It didn’t feel cold; it didn’t feel hot.

  That kind of place.

  REAPER RECORD I

  I don’t know how much time I spent in there. Not even now, after I found out what “time” was.

  When I was in there, I shouldn’t have even had any concept, or sense, of what “dark” meant anyway.

  It wasn’t until I encountered “bright,” somewhere during the process, that it dawned on me that “oh, I was in a dark place, wasn’t I?”

  That’s how the world works, much of the time.

  Whenever you run into something new, that helps you understand things from your past for the first time.

  Encountering “today” makes you realize what “yesterday” was. Encountering “morning” teaches you what “night” means.

  It was just a little while ago when an encounter with “winter” made me realize what “summer” was all about.

  Once I learned how to discover all of these things, I realized for the first time that this world is in a constant state of dramatic change.

  After the darkness that ruled over me up to now, this world, and all the wide variety of things that covered every inch of it, seemed to transform every time I blinked.

  I first took an interest in this world, this place I wasn’t even conscious of before, at the end of my first blink.

  The “sky,” cycling between light and dark at regular intervals.

  The “sea,” soaking in the sunlight from above to shine a gleaming blue.

  The “rain,” falling upon the “land.”

  And the “life” that followed soon behind.

  Without being directed to by anyone in particular, I stared on at these “things” in the world, and one by one, I kept making the connections that helped me understand.

  It was one discovery after another, among all the things that were born and decayed away…I spent a great while doing this, or so it felt.

  I watched over the world as it changed, for so long that I felt there was nothing I could rely upon any longer apart from my own wits.

  Then, one day, I realized:

  Once this line of thinking begins to spin up, it absolutely detests the idea of stopping.

  Even if I tried sitting there without a thought in my mind, like how it was back in the darkness, the “knowledge” I gained continually lobbed questions at me, one after the other.

  “What’s this?”

  “What’s that made out of?”

  “Why is this here?”

  There was nothing I could do to suppress the curiosity bursting from my mind. I had no reason to. Instead, I set my body adrift in the sea of questions, pressing on with my daily journey of discovery and understanding.

  One day, I ventured inside a cave. I followed a narrow trail until it opened up into a large cavern, a pond spreading out across the interior.

  Cracks ran here and there across the exposed rock ceiling, the sunlight that wriggled through them flickering against the pool’s surface.

  As I looked at one of the faint points of light on the water, I spotted a tiny figure on its surface.

  It looked quite unlike any creature I had seen before—just standing there, as if peering intently at me.

  It didn’t particularly concern me at first. I knew by now that life wasn’t a rare thing. There was no telling what you might find in your travels.

  The surprising thing, though, was that it seemed like this creature “recognized” me.

  Having someone stare at me so attentively was a wholly alien experience.

  I wasn’t sure why, but even though creatures seemed capable of noticing and interacting with each other, not a single one of them ever took notice of me.

  This figure, meanwhile, was looking straight at me. He didn’t have any “eyes,” but I could tell regardless.

  I took an interest at this sight, returning the gaze for a little while. Then I realized the figure was none other than myself.

  What a shock it was.

  It seemed strange that I failed to notice until now. Just like every other form of life, I had my own physical form.

  This chance encounter with my own form filled my mind with curiosity.

  I looked over every curve and crevice of my body. “How long have I looked like this?” “What does this do?” “Why am I shaped like this?”

  But I failed to come up with an answer to any of the questions that came to mind.

  It honestly felt strange.

  As if I knew not even the slightest thing about “myself.”

  I fully comprehended all the many forms of life I had learned of, yet…

  A question floated into existence, instantly drowning out all other thought.

  “Who made me?”

  In terms of what I knew, maybe I could have been defined as a “creature” that just…appeared one day.

  But if I fell under that definition, that meant there had to be some being out there to give birth to me. In all the time I spent in this land, I never encountered anything like that.

  I knew because I had an intimate view of how “creatures” began, at least once. And judging by the sight, the way I was given life must have fundamentally differed from that.

  That, and even though these creatures eventually grew unable to retain their forms over “time”—even though they seemed to face
their demise before they even had a chance to breathe—I had no sense that would ever occur to me. Perhaps it was more natural for me to think of myself as “something” completely different.

  But…

  “In that case, what am I?”

  I had been on a journey of understanding, putting the pieces that appeared before me together to blaze a trail to the answers I sought. But I had never thought about “myself” before.

  So I began to think deeply, trying to root out an answer to the question in my mind.

  I closed my eyes, plunging into the darkness that lay ahead.

  It conjured memories of the all-too-familiar darkness that once surrounded me.

  I need to track it down.

  Once more. From the beginning.

  …There was no telling how much time passed.

  For a long time—quite a long one—I stood there and went on a journey through my memories, trying to find an explanation for “myself.”

  Relying on all the knowledge I built up to that point, I focused my ponderingly massive thought process down one path, then another, in careful order.

  It was enough to make my head swim…not that I feared that would happen, but the journey proved so long and arduous that I felt close to such a phenomenon for a moment.

  And then, this journey of thought, propelled by nothing less than pure curiosity, finally reached its terminus.

  I had completed my exhaustive analysis of every memory in my mind, from the first one I could still remember until the moment I closed my eyes.

  But the result:

  “…I don’t know.”

  The conclusion slipped out of my mouth. It was the sole conclusion I could make, but I still found it utterly disappointing.

  The core of it was this: There was no way, no method whatsoever, for me to explain myself.

  Although it occasionally took some time, there was nothing I encountered before that I couldn’t eventually gain an understanding of. Not this time.

  I tried again, running across my reminisces for another cycle, but still to no avail.

  Coming face-to-face with a question that so doggedly refused to give up its answer was, frankly, a source of intense frustration.

  Frustration…?

  There’s one thing I gained from the journey, at least.

  As the thought occurred to me, my concentration loosened, and I finally opened my eyes.

  The water’s surface in front of me still showed my reflection. The dark figure. A shadow. No head, or legs, or tail, but just an inky dark presence.

  The frustration I felt earlier grew exponentially at this inexplicable shape before me.

  It’d be nice if I at least had a form that was easier to understand, to explain.

  If I at least had all the basic parts—the head, the legs—it might be at least a tad easier to understand matters than the way it stood.

  As I ruefully lodged the complaint with myself, the dark shadow reflected in the water suddenly grew two red points of light.

  They shone a deep red, like the blood shed by living creatures.

  I was somewhat surprised at this turn of events, but my mind remained oddly serene.

  Are these…“eyes”? I don’t think these were there before…

  But…ah. Yes. I have “eyes” after all.

  That at least made me resemble a living thing more, but would that be enough? If I’m this noncreature “thing,” then what do I have to do next…?

  Seizing upon this new bit of information, I decided to think it over once more. Just as I did, I heard the sound of small pebbles grinding against themselves behind me.

  It startled me, but my head calmly processed the situation.

  I knew this sound. Living creatures made it as they trudged or slithered across the ground.

  Instinctively, I turned toward the sound. Whatever made it must be traveling down the same subterranean path I was.

  Judging by how it seemed to be approaching me, it sounded like a small creature walking on two legs. Several of them, actually.

  And as I pondered over this, I was greeted by exactly the sight expected: a group of small creatures, before me.

  But these, too, were unlike any I had seen before.

  What made them different were the “sticks of flame” they held.

  The flames must have lit up the dark cavern as they proceeded along.

  Driven by curiosity, I peered intently in their direction. Finally, one of the creatures noticed me.

  As they approached, their forms grew more distinct to me underneath the flames.

  They were wrapped in a sort of pelt, something organic woven into fine threads.

  Some of them also held what looked like small, sharpened bits of mineral, probably for self-protection.

  Judging by the wielding of fire, they must have been rather intelligent.

  They swiveled their heads around the cavern, as if on the lookout for something. Predators, perhaps.

  Indeed, given their collective size, a larger creature could’ve swallowed them up in one gulp.

  As I sat and watched, adrift in my thoughts, the group came to an abrupt stop, turning their flames in my direction and emitting loud, harried cries.

  They were shrill, wailing, as if a moment away from being preyed upon. Caught off guard by this, I swiftly began to think.

  Who are these people? Why are they launching into such a pained hue and cry like that?

  Ignoring my silent query, the creatures began whirling their handheld flames in the air, their caterwauling still as loud and disquieting as ever.

  The crimson afterimage of their fire danced in the darkness.

  “Flame”

  The phenomenon that “burns” things.

  That, I knew. But why were they swinging it around like that?

  Their frenzied act, as if trying to ward some unseen enemy off, was beyond my understanding. But the moment a tendril of fire lapped against me, the purpose thudded into my mind.

  My calm, composed line of thought stopped cold, and instead, a fearsome emotion dominated my thoughts like nothing before.

  “Hot”

  Hot, hot, hot, hot.

  The sharp, painful feeling threw me into a state of confusion.

  What could it be?!

  The pain!

  It’s hot!

  This pain! I don’t understand it! I cannot bear it!

  The creatures illuminated by the fire stared, eyes wide open and clearly pointed at me.

  A dull, distasteful feeling shot across my brain, now wholly dominated by the intense pain.

  I tensed my body in a panic, and the flame swung up at me and traced an orange arc in the air, failing to land a second strike.

  Twisting my body to remain at a safe distance, I found it difficult to summon the strength to continue. I felt an oozing pain in the burnt areas.

  There was no escaping these waves of hurt. Once I realized it, I felt “fear” for the first time in my life.

  Why?

  I was never burned by fire before now. Not even once.

  In fact, I had never made physical contact with anything in this world. Why was this happening?

  Troubled, I tried my best to think it over. But this new sense of “fear” seeping into my body proved to be a substantial obstacle.

  The creatures acted surprised at my rearward leap, but soon they were thrusting their flame at me once more.

  I squirmed and writhed, trying to escape from this place at once, but I couldn’t.

  My mind and body were unable to cope with this stunning situation.

  All I could do was quiver at the sight of these creatures, ceaselessly trying to inflict me with yet more pain.

  I’m scared. Who are these people? What am I supposed to do?

  Do creatures attack other “things”? What purpose would there be to…?

  “…Are they trying to eat me?”

  The moment the thought came to mind, I was consumed by fear.

  T
he reason why creatures attack one another in this world.

  Much of the time, it was to capture “prey.”

  Predation upon other creatures, so that you yourself might survive.

  Yes. I knew that.

  So am I going to die, consumed by these attackers, like the strong prey upon the weak?

  That must be the case.

  It explained why these people relentlessly tormented me, even as I tried to flee.

  Ahh, they’re going to kill me.

  I might get eaten.

  Will I die?

  What happens when I die?

  Will I be able to think any longer?

  Suddenly, one of the flame bearers took out an oddly shaped item at its side.

  Some kind of liquid was sloshing around inside.

  Without a moment’s hesitation, the creature splashed the contents toward me.

  The next moment, the flame in the creature’s hand roared to life, jumping over to my body.

  The fire burned high enough to obscure my sight. Pain ripped across me.

  I tried to shake it off, but my body refused to listen, stiffened in fear and unable to move.

  Only one thought raced across my mind.

  “I can’t…The burning…I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die!”

  My body trembled in anguish. Just as I resigned myself to it all being “over,” the cries of one of the creatures made me doubt my ears.

  “I’ll kill you, you monster!”

  There was nothing different about the echoing cry from before.

  But now, to my mind, the cries of the creatures before me took on that meaning as they bounced against the cavern walls.

  There was no point trying to comprehend this new sense of mine. My “consciousness,” a presence I was starting to curse with every fiber of my body, had already begun to gradually fade away.

  The scene around me grew indistinct, then began to darken. As if on cue, the pain of the fire, along with the fear, slowly seemed to resolve itself.

  With no way to resist, no way to see anything, and my consciousness about to disappear, all that echoed in my mind were the creatures’ cries.

  “…What’s wrong?! What happened?!”

  “Snake! Agh, dammit…Watch out! They’re still crawling around!”

  What were these people going on about?