“At your command,” he said formally.
“Please bring Challenger Red to his room,” Veego said. “He’ll be joining us for the evening meal.”
“Very good,” Fourteen said, and motioned for me to walk to the stairs.
I looked at Veego, who said, “You’ve had a busy day. Take some time to rest. Fourteen will come get you before the meal.”
I didn’t know what to do. I had been kidnapped. There’s no other way to put it. They were being nice to me, but so what? I was kidnapped! They kept calling me Challenger Red, like one of those guys who battled to the death in that Tato match. And just to confuse things further, LaBerge said I was there to be treated like royalty. None of this added up. The only thing I had to keep in mind was that the real reason I was there, the only reason that mattered, was because Saint Dane sent me an invitation. There was no mistaking that. I was there to stop Saint Dane. If I was going to find him, I had to play along. At least for a little while.
“You’re going to love the meal this evening!” LaBerge said giddily.
I looked to him and said, “Just as long as there’s no tribbun.” I had no idea what tribbun was, other than a label on some food at the food store. I just wanted to mess with the guy. LaBerge’s eyes went wide.
“Tribbun!” he exclaimed. “Tribbun is delicious!”
“Yeah, well, I hate it,” I said.
“Well,” he said in a huff. “We’ll have to take it off the menu.” He turned and stormed off. I know, it was a dumb thing to do, but it made me feel as if I had a tiny bit of control.
“This way, please,” Fourteen said.
“Enjoy your rest,” said Veego.
“I will, ” I replied, and went for the stairs. Before climbing, I glanced back to see that Veego hadn’t moved. She waswatching me. It was a creepy feeling, like she was sizing me up.
“Take a right at the top of the stairs,” Fourteen said. He was following me closely.
“What’s your real name?” I asked. “Mine’s Bobby.”
“My name is Fourteen,” he replied.
“No, it’s not, ” I shot back. “And my name isn’t Red. You don’t name people numbers or colors.”
“Whatever you say, sir,” Fourteen said.
“Who do you hang out with?” I asked jokingly. “Thirteen and Fifteen?”
I chuckled. He didn’t.
“Yes, I do” was his answer.
Oh.
The guy wasn’t about to joke with me. I’ll bet he was afraid of what Veego might do to him. I decided not to give him a hard time. Reaching the top of the stairs, he directed me down a long, wide corridor that had closed wooden doors every few feet.
“What’s behind those doors?” I asked.
“This is where some of the challengers live,” he replied.
I noticed that each door had a different colored rectangular plate on it. White, black, orange, blue. It was like the challenger dorm. We must have walked fifty yards down the long hallway before stopping at a door with a red rectangle. Fourteen opened the door and said, “This is where you will be staying.”
I stepped past him into the room that I described to you in my last journal. It was like something out of a little kid’s imagination. A twisted little kid. It was a big room, with plenty of area to walk around. The walls were purple and yellow striped, no big surprise. The ceiling was covered with balloons of all colors. The bed was in the very middle. It seemed to be floating in space. The blanket on it was yellow, the pillows purple. There was a desk that looked like a giant hand, palm up. As ridiculous as all that sounds, the worst part was the extra decorations. There were shelves everywhere that were loaded with dolls. Clown dolls. I hate clowns. Have I mentioned that? In my opinion there are two kinds of people: those who fear and hate clowns… and clowns.
“I’m not staying here,” I said to Fourteen. “Is this room not to your liking?” he asked. “Are you kidding?” I shot back. “It’s full of clowns! Who decorates a room with clowns?”
“That would be LaBerge,” he answered. Figured.
“Well, I’m not staying here,” I said. “I am sorry, sir,” he replied calmly. “There are no other rooms.”
I was going to argue, but decided that I wasn’t going to be staying very long anyway, so I’d deal with the clowns. At least I’d try to deal with the clowns. I hate clowns. I wasn’t: so fond of Quillan, either.
This is where I’m going to end this journal and send it off. I’m lucky they left me alone long enough to write two whole journals and get you guys up to speed. Of course, now my hand is cramped from having written so much, but I’ll live.
I feel as if I’m getting close to Saint Dane, if only because I’ve met Veego and LaBerge. The invitation may have come from them, but it was delivered by Saint Dane. There’s a connection between them. It’s my job to find it. The first step is to figure out why Veego and LaBerge want me here. If they plan on treating me like royalty, well, that would be cool. But I’m no idiot. I’m afraid they’re going to want something from me and I’ve got a pretty good idea what it is. They think I’m a challenger, which has to mean they want me to compete. I can’t help but think Saint Dane has set this whole thing up, which means he wants me to compete. I can only hope that I’ll be able to duck that long enough to figure out what the demon has planned for Quillan. It’s going to be a dangerous tightrope. I need to be here to learn more, but if I stay, I may have to compete.
I wonder if the Traveler from Quillan followed the same steps I did. Did he get an invitation too? Did Saint Dane send an invitation to all the Travelers? Is this how it’s going to end? Will our battle with Saint Dane come down to a series of deadly games on this twisted territory? If Saint Dane summoned the Travelers here, I have no doubt that each and every one of us would come. For the first time I’m actually happy that Gunny and Spader are trapped on Eelong.
As I sit here in this creepy room, I’m feeling very alone. There’s no one to bounce ideas off and challenge my thinking. Nobody I can trust. For whatever reason, I was made the lead Traveler, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need help. Or friendship. It doesn’t bother me when I’m running around, but when I’m alone like this, my mind wanders. It isn’t fun. At times like this the fight against Saint Dane seems so overwhelming, all I want to do is chuck it all and go home. But that makes me remember that I don’t have a home anymore. My past has been erased. I don’t belong on Second Earth. I’m not sure I ever did. So where do I belong?
Yikes, I’ve got to get a grip. Feeling sorry for myself doesn’t help anything. I want to get some sleep so I can stop worrying, but I’m worrying so much I can’t get to sleep. Don’t worry, I don’t feel this way all the time, only when things slow down. I need these breaks to recharge my batteries and write journals. But to be honest, I dread the
101 110 downtime, because that’s when I realize how truly alone I am.
It’s okay. I’m fine. I just needed to get that off my chest.
I’ll add one more thing before I sign off. Before leaving my room. Fourteen said, “I’ll come for you when the meal is ready.”
“Whatever,” I said. He backed out as I took another look around the room, and saw all those creepy clown eyes staring back at me. “Hey,” I said, stopping him.
“Yes?”
“Are you sure there aren’t any other rooms?”
“Very sure,” he said. “But there will probably be another opening after the next tournament.”
At first I was encouraged. I wanted to be away from the clowns in the worst way. But then the weight of his words sank in.
“Who had this room before me?” I asked.
“That was Challenger Yellow,” he answered. “He won’t be returning. Enjoy your rest.”
He closed the door, leaving me feeling more alone than ever. Challenger Yellow was the Traveler from Quillan. He didn’t survive the fell. Challengers died.
I was a challenger.
I hadn’t even found Saint Dane yet.
And so we go.
I miss you guys.
END JOURNAL # 24
