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To Arms Citizens, Form Your Battalions

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Noises, voices, all around him. The sounds, there were familiar. Ambula- emerg- vices. He should understand them, should know but- he was yearning to pull his meddled mess of a mind together. His thoughts they were- wrong. They were his. Why weren’t they his? A panicked blackness filled his chest. Something was wrong, something went so ever terribly wrong. But he didn’t know what. All he knew was he needed to run, he was trapped, he couldn’t escape. Vibrations went through his chest, was that him? Someone else? He couldn’t- he should be- The lights flashing registered in his eyes, them being immediately scrunched as another rumbling sensation was sent through his chest. What was happening?

Oh no handsome, the easy way, with a little something

The flashing lights were there. It, the darkness, he couldn’t- flashing lights were here. His thoughts should be- but they weren’t. Not anymore. He wasn’t going back. We wouldn’t- he had to protect himself. The savage soldiers- they couldn’t take, no they were his! The voices increased around him, rising in volume and tension. He needed- couldn’t think past the flashing red and blue lights, fight the need to get away. A screeching static filled his ears, convulsing through his whole body. He couldn’t think- the lights- the lights violated him- his mind it-

Prolonged use of this device is not recommended

No, no no, they- he- they- the flickering Red blue red blue red blue teal red blue teal-green. His breath hitched, chest tightening, heart marching the drums of war. Green couldn’t- No he couldn’t be back. Where even was back? Grey concrete- but the lights- his shattered mind it- He should know he should know he should’ve known he- no no no no not again he couldn’t go back. His thoughts were his! They were his and his only and no please, don’t take them-

Something jabbed his arm, and he thinks he sees a red cross through his barely open eyelids as his last thoughts lingered.

To arms citizens, form your battalions.


He was floating in the darkness of his own mind, the blurry expanse stretching out before him. His thoughts tried weaving themselves together, to form any semblance of a pattern or recognition, but it only did enough so to leave the gaping sensation in his chest. He only registered the pain, the violation. The hollowness of his chest, so heavy at the same time, weighing him down and leaving him both empty and full of fear. Why did he feel like this?

He’ll be singing our tune in no time

He tried to make sense of it, but all he knew was there was no greens. Green was bad- but how did he know that? He should know how her got here. He was- he was…her.

Red. the red had saved him. Who was she- why? Red was bad, was wrong. Red was the enemy but...she helped him. He didn’t understand, wha-why? Red should be the worst it- it was always dangerous. The feeling so familiar in his mind as his beating heart. That’s how things worked for him- red was always bad. But the green it- he couldn’t describe the blackness in his chest, the overwhelming sensation of fear and unwillingness. A reminder of violation, of wanting his mind back. The toxic contamination it left him in. Crawling all over his skin, only to seep down itichily to his bones, settling, uncoiling his DNA, seething into it, only to zip back up. Into the core of his being and identity. How could it? How could the green be so violating? He clawed at his racing brain it needed to leave- the green it, it was VILE it was- it needed to leave he couldn’t get rid of it-

We’ll get you out of here

The toxic feeling paused, sitting in his body, a shadow swallowing his limbs, now simply resting along his skin. He couldn’t believe it.

She saved him.

The red took the green away. He didn’t know- how? How did she chase the green away?


To arms citizens, form your battalions


He didn’t know why ‘chase’ seemed familiar. He thinks he thought it before. His mind drifts in and out, along with the french national anthem. It- why was he fighting? What was the anthem fighting? What was he at war with? He doesn’t think it was red anymore. It should, but it wasn’t. He wants the lyrics to leave his mind- he wants to stop fighting. What was he fighting- he- I- he should know. What was he at arms for? What- he didn’t know- what battle? He wanted to make sense of something- anything. But it was the same lyrics, over and over and over again. His head wouldn’t stop, it couldn’t stop- could it? No, not when- his mind was gone. Why was it gone? What was, why did it keep repeating? What was so important? What was he fighting? He should know- he wanted to know but his goddamn mind wouldn’t give way it couldn’t be given away, they couldn’t have it-

Auz Armes Citoyens, Formez vos bataillons
Auz Armes Citoyens, Formez vos bataillons
Auz Armes Citoyens, Formez vos bataillons


I’d spill the beans Sweat pea

Wha-where? Where was the enemy? He knew it was there, oh no he was there why was he there?


To arms citizens, form you battalions.

His eyes opened to the darkness, to the room around him- a hospital? He didn’t know, how did he get here? Confused, he glanced around the room. He didn’t know what woke him up, his attention drawn to the billowing curtain by the window, a pale blue glazed with dark shadows of the night. It resonated with him, somehow. The blackness. Until he looked past it- till he saw the flash of red outside the window.

His breathing stopped.

She was here, she was there.

He saw the tip of read flash by again, and he knew it was her coat, the scarlet shadow was waiting outside the window. He went to move, the go to the edge of the window, but his body wouldn’t allow him. It was drained and lifeless, but still he sat up, staring out the window, body sluggish and unwilling.

We should say something- but what? What do you say to the woman who saved your life? The beating heart in his chest refused to give way, but he needed to do something.

He felt the vibrations rise through his chest, fading quickly at his rasping throat, desperately demanding water.

“I know-” He started, his voice was croaking. He let out a breath. Whether it’d be called a sob or a whimper, he did not know. Still, he cleared his throat as best he could.

“I know you’re there, scarlet shadow”

The flicker of red quickly disappeared by the window. He stared out the window, longing- longing to see the red once more.

“I- I thank you Mrs, Mrs…”


He- he didn’t know or understand a lot of things. Why was he thanking her when he should be chasing the thief? What did she steal? Why was Vile? He could feel it deep in his bones, he knew it undoubtedly- but why was his thoughts different, why were they sending mixed signals? His mind should be straightforward, it should be simple not- not this muddled mess of thoughts.

Truth extractor

He didn’t register the red blur jumping through the window, or his own tense hands grabbing at his forehead. Only the confusing of a million different thoughts firing with no clear direction. The pain it sent with no clear source. How could he get rid of it, he didn’t know, he was fighting an enemy he didn’t know how to win how can he survive-

Longer it clings to your brain, the more you risk permanently scrambling your eggs


Next thing he knew a pair of warm hands were pressed lightly on his shoulders, and he looked up through his shaking hands to see the woman in red herself standing in front of him. All thoughts cleared his mind, all stopping in their tracks at the rendered red coat in front of him. He only stared at her, not knowing what to think, what to do.

“Get some rest Devineaux, you have a long road ahead of you”

His shoulders were lightly pressed down back onto the bed below him, his muscles caving in as his head rested comfortably against the pillow. His eyes watched her lazily as she walked by the the window, giving him one last smile before she jumped out, her coat of red trailing behind her as always. The Deja Vu struck him.

Sleep was pulling at him, dragging him down into the depths of his mind, his aching body begging him to go through it, but again the words he’d been repeating filled his mind one last time. He knew it’d be important to his life,

To arms citizens, form your battalions.