The Enigma's Anomaly

If I Just Lay Here

It can't have been more than half an hour since this started when the big guy dunking me into the water throws me against the floor in frustration.

"Is it something I said?" I ask, when my head hits the hard ground with unimaginable pain. I need like a whole bottle of Advil to get me through the aching in my head, and I think I'm on the verge of falling asleep, but I decide to lift myself up to look at Banks. He's out of focus and kind of looks like a big blob to me, but he's still got some sort of form in front of me.

Right now, Banks looks exactly the way he had in my dream so long ago. At the time I hadn't known it was him, but I know now, and he looks just the way he had before. His form is blurry, almost too much so for me to even comprehend him, but he is there, and his face looks like that of a monster.

I'd almost forgotten that Banks has no laugh lines. He only ever smiles when he's watching someone suffer. I would never tell him, but he's so scary like this. The way he looks like he's miles above me, with spindly long legs that could step on me and take my life away. He's a man of nightmares.

"Don't you ever shut up?" Banks asks.

"I... no. I'm always talking. I was doing a sardonic narration when I came out of the womb," I reply.

I'm pretty sure he kicks me in the stomach, but I'm pretty numb all over so I could be imagining it. With my eyes, I see he's a lot closer to me than he was a moment ago, but the figure is so blurry that it could just as easily be the grim reaper and I wouldn't know.

"Was uncalled for," I murmur, grabbing my stomach, because yeah, he kicked me. The way that my breath, which was already coming out painfully, gets even harder is the sign telling me so.

"You're going to tell me what I want to know. Even if I have to wait all night," Banks says. I decide not to mention the fact that waiting all night would imply that the cops would probably show up. That could be beneficial for me.

"Where'd the other guy go?" I ask him, when I notice that the little manmade room is empty apart from myself and Banks.

"We're going to have a little heart to heart, Mr. Iero."

"Why do I get the feeling that that's not a good thing?" I ask him, and Banks chuckles.

"Hey Banks," I say, blinking my eyes, and pulling myself up onto my elbows, "your shoes really don't match your pants."

"Is that meant to offend me?" Banks asks.

"You're rich, you really should be able to match your colors, or at least hire someone to do it for you," I say, blinking furiously again. My hands are crammed into my back painfully, but I can tell that they're no longer tied together. I don't know why they aren't but I'm sure I'm right. They probably figured that I'm too weak to run away. That might not exactly be untrue, I can't feel my fingers. I try the best I can to wiggle my fingers, and I think I've got control over a few of them, but I can't feel the others.

The more I blink the more of Banks I can see. I think I've gotten down to three or four different versions of Banks instead of several dozen. I can see the hairs on his head, and the black beady color of his eyes. I finally get Banks into one physical form, though it hurts my brain to have to narrow down on it.

My head is throbbing. It's one of the most painful headaches I've ever had, if not the most painful. Drowning really hurts your head and messes your ears up. It feels like I have sludge trapped in my ears, but I can't lift my hands to get rid of it.

It's not as bad as when I got shot though, and that's good. When I got shot I couldn't move any of my limbs at all. Right now, I can tell my limbs will work if I just give it a little time, but I'm not sure I'll have that time because I'll probably be dead before that happens.