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Logan was a crier; he was well aware of the fact. He was allowed to cry, no matter how many times he was told not to show weakness as a kid.
Because, hell, he was fucking stressed.
He just wanted it to stop. Wanted to go to sleep without waking up in a dark, red dimension with monsters who were out to kill him.
Having those people — friends, dare he say — around had kept him afloat; still, the situation was not ideal. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, and he couldn’t keep himself from getting scared every single time.
So he cried. It was not the first time. His friends understood; Ashlyn did try to comfort him a few times — in safe places when she was the closest — she just didn’t have any idea how to deal with people, much less crying people. Logan got it; he wouldn’t be able to comfort himself either—if he could, he would have done it already. Tyler seemed the same in the people aspect, except with his twin sister. Taylor was kind of like a ray of sunshine in this hellhole. Logan liked her; she seemed to want to be friends when they weren’t busy trying not to get killed. Aiden was weird, though. Logan didn’t want to look into him; he could tell there was a lot to unpack. He wasn’t a ray of sunshine like Taylor was, no matter how much he smiled. It entered creepy territory at least once a night. He was more like a clown or someone on laughing gas on the surface. Logan didn’t even know how to talk to him, so he kept his distance. Same with Ben. Mostly because he was with Aiden every step of the way, but he liked him regardless. There were big teddy vibes there. And trauma. Seemed to run in the family or something.
Or within the friend group.
Taylor put a hand on his shoulder. It gave him some kind of reassurance. He knew they were all feeling the same. He just let it out differently. They didn’t judge him for it, and he didn’t judge others for their way of coping. They were his first real friends. He didn’t like the circumstances of it, though.
He pushed thoughts like that aside. He just needed to let the feelings out, and then he could focus again. Survival was the priority. One of the things that sticks with him from the time with his mom. Those nights, he used what she told him over the years together more than he ever did. Some of those things he didn’t even remember before; most memories were of those moments he stared at the night sky and connected the constellations, or looked up the ones he wasn’t sure about later on. Yet, he was glad for it all.
He never would have thought he would use everything she taught him. Never once was he glad for the lessons and all the time they spent together on the missions, or while training. It made him reconsider the first eleven years of his life.
There were nights when the sound of his mom’s voice echoed through his brain.
Mostly the nights he was close to dying.
He tossed his gun to Ashlyn. There were way too many phantoms, and there was no way it was safe to get that close. And even though her aim wasn’t perfect, there was no way she’d miss with this many of them around.
It took a few moments, and Ben came at the monsters from the back to clear their path, but they managed.
“Okay, let’s get out of here,” Ash whispered in that confident, yet hesitant way of hers. Logan was more than happy to comply. He took exactly two steps before Ben’s eyes went wide. And he knew exactly why. He was half-turned back when inhuman claws gripped his neck from behind.
He acted without thinking. It was, in a way, like shooting, except it wasn’t. He let out a breath and took hold of the knife strapped to his belt. He never thought he would even think about using it. Gripping its hand, the small knife almost flew to its neck; it went through and out faster than the phantom could react. Logan pulled away, taking advantage of the shock of the phantom, and sent a high kick to its chest. Even when it hadn’t contained the strength he wished it had, the grasp on his neck loosened. Logan watched as its head fell to the ground, the rest of the body following its lead.
He put his knife back. Turns out it had some use to him. He frankly remembered once seeing his mom do the same thing during their stay in Berlin. It was more powerful, elegant, and contained more expertise. Logan let the adrenaline pass through him and didn’t question how he pulled such a thing off. What can he say? He is a visual learner.
The extra few seconds spent outside of their safe zone made him nervous, so he quickly turned around and continued on his way out of the house. He barely noticed Ashlyn and Ben’s faces; paid them no mind, trying to push back the crisis over what he’d just done. They followed eventually, so he pushed through the night as if nothing had happened. He was glad Ben and Ash were such calm people. He didn’t need a reminder of such an accident, or his childhood for that matter.
And the way he kept averting the existential crisis was probably not healthy, but definitely needed in his state of mind.
Logan always liked blending into the background. He liked watching, listening, and observing. And excuse you—it was not creepy.
What concerned him was his friends’ home lives. Well, Ash seemed to be doing well in that aspect. Ben, too, as far as he could tell, although he couldn’t confirm anything. Aiden was just screaming ‘mommy issues’ vibe. And no, he was not digging in any deeper; he did not have that much time or brain capacity, nor a good headspace for that one. Tyler was all ‘independence’ and ‘protectiveness’. Maybe that’s why Taylor is so…Taylor. Yet, she only relies on Tyler. And he provides.
Their mom didn’t seem like she was in a good place mentally. He could only guess it was because of their dad. Thinking about that hit too close to home. He knew a thing or two about people going rigid after the death of their loved one.
But. The Hernández siblings.
“Our mom never really got over his death,” Taylor said, looking at the ground. Her brother had her hand in his. The moment stretched on. Nobody said anything. It was not because of pity, but because of understanding. Tyler seemed to be focused mainly on his sister, who looked much more torn about the whole thing. The damn independence.
“I know what that’s like.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. All their eyes were on him. Curious, welcoming. Tyler seemed dubious. Logan avoided his eyes and focused on Taylor. “My dad died when I was ten. Mom didn’t take it well.” His voice sounded monotone to his ears. The opposite of Taylor’s voice when she shared her story.
“So much that she didn’t get out of bed for days?” Tyler’s voice came cutting in. Logan’s eyes turned to him. He could tell he didn’t mean it as it sounded. Everyone had a way of showing their emotions in a different way. He didn’t let the silence take over.
“I didn’t see her sleep for the next few months.” Tyler froze in a way that could have been a realisation of what he said falling over him. He kept eye contact with him. “She was always there, doing something, moving, never resting.” He took a deep breath. He never talked about the time he spent abroad, not even to his grandparents. “Dragged me along. I saw a lot of things I wasn’t supposed to.” He kept it at that.
They moved on, and the conversation changed. With it came the way Tyler looked at him. Something changed in the way he thought of Logan, that was for sure. There was an understanding. The Hernández siblings kept closer to him. It was the fact that Tyler carried more weight on his shoulders in an attempt to guard his sister that changed their relationship. It wasn’t as visible, but it was there. The silent understanding. One that reached a bit deeper than it did with the rest of their friends.
The sky was red as usual. Logan’s head ached, lungs burned, and limbs were about to give out. Blood dripped from his head; he didn’t mind it as long as it didn’t affect his vision.
Tyler was helping his sister. There were nasty cuts on her calf that needed to be treated immediately. Ben was fighting a particularly stubborn phantom by the twins, two more lying on the ground next to him. Logan had used too many bullets already. They only attracted more phantoms. So he threw both of his guns towards the Hernández siblings, just in case, for protection, and took out his knives.
Stepping over the four or so phantoms lying by his feet, he charged at the ones in front of him. He pushed the knife to one’s neck, kicked the second in the head, pushed the third away, and cut into the stomach of the fourth. He jumped on the second one, stabbing it in its chest. Another two came for him from the back. The third came back, so he swiped its legs from under it. The fifth one’s head fell away from the force of his knife. He used the second knife to stab the phantom behind it and kept it there to collect later. He turned around to step on the third’s neck with as much force as he could.
Six down, three more to go.
They needed to get out of here before any more creatures could come and find them.
One phantom charged at him, so he ducked and grabbed its neck with his free hand; the other, the one with the knife, went to its side. He threw the phantom at another one to his right, and his knife went flying to the last one’s face. The last standing phantom let the dead body fall and ran. Just as its claws were close enough to rip his face, he kicked up a leg to its jaw. He used the shock and circled it to jump on its back and push it to the ground. It stopped moving under the force of his hands on its neck.
He grabbed the knife out of one of the phantom’s faces — a pretty good throw; he was proud of himself — and stabbed the last one’s neck, for good measure. Stepping on one’s face, he ripped the other knife out of its skull. Both knives were dripping with black, staining his hands. It was on his clothes and face, maybe in his hair.
Regardless, they needed to go.
Taylor, leaning on her twin, gripping the gun with her free hand, was wide-eyed, lips parted. Tyler’s face was similar, with furrowed burrowed, holding his sister gently. Ben was standing behind them, three phantoms at his feet, one of his hands on his upper arm. There was red coming through his fingers. His jaw was set, shock hidden behind his eyes.
“We need to go find Aiden and Ashlyn,” he reminded them. Taylor eyed the phantoms at his feet one by one, face dumbfounded. Ben nodded, expression still tight.
“I think you just beat Aiden’s record,” Tyler commented. Logan looked around himself.
“We should go this way.” He walked in the direction the road was supposedly in, putting one of his knives back into his belt. Others followed.
Logan was at the top of the leaderboard; Aiden refused to believe that. Not until he’d see it with his own eyes. Logan barely had the energy to talk. The Hernández siblings and Ben still shot him weird looks, Ashlyn focused on planning, and Logan was pressing a cloth to the wound on his head, curling up on himself.
He didn’t want to think about it.
“Maybe focus on the fact that he’s getting their blood everywhere, I don’t know.” Tyler snapped at Aiden from where he was wrapping Taylor’s leg. Aiden pouted and continued to play with his knife. “Where’d you learn how to do that, anyway?” His voice got softer. When Logan looked up, they made eye contact. The rest of his group waited for his answer, clearly invested.
“I mean, I don’ know, it was probably a survival instinct or somethin’.” His words slurred involuntarily. He winced at the headache speaking gave him.
“Yeah, because after weeks of being here and countless near-death experiences, survival instinct kicks in.” Tyler’s sarcasm made his head hurt, too. “No one just kills eleven phantoms, Logan.” Logan groaned; he didn’t want to participate in this conversation. Or any conversation, for that matter.
“’m a visual learner. It just came out.” He signed.
“So you learned from, like…films? I’m sure we haven’t seen Ashlyn’s parents do that.” Tayler joined in.
“My brain keeps remindin’ me of stuff from when I was little while here.” The words left his mouth before he knew it. Instead of dealing with the consequences of his actions, he got more comfortable in his spot in the tyre and closed his eyes.
To any and all oncoming questions, he just grunted.
No matter what everyone thought, Logan was quite good at controlling his emotions. Yes, he did prefer to be himself. He preferred to let his feelings out by crying from time to time, but he was never an aggressive person—the only times he was, were supposedly because of the phantom dimension. Nevertheless, he did get angry from time to time.
And he might have caught some of the protectiveness from Tyler, sue him.
I’ll pile them up and set them on fire, he thought, watch them burn.
They were all capable. More than that. Even though Logan was still technically at the top of their leaderboard in kills.
Ash was able to snap one’s neck in one swift move. Ben was not afraid to use his fists when the situation called for it. Taylor was fierce and strong; she liked groups of them — easier to kill, apparently. Requires less energy — but that was most likely because of her liking for a bat. Aiden didn’t need any explanation; the guy seemed to get only crazier as time went on. Tyler was nearly as fierce as Taylor, except he was angry and protecting his people.
That didn’t mean everything always went how they wanted it to.
Logan ran before he could even think about what he was doing. He jumped past Aiden and landed on Phantom’s shoulders. It took around five seconds to get three of them down. Others followed. The last one’s stomach was leaking blood all over while Logan kicked it in the head, purely out of anger. He didn’t have time for that.
He turned around to find Tyler breathing heavily on the ground. He put his knife back and knelt on the ground in front of him.
“Are you okay?” he asked; the worry was evident in his voice. Tyler looked up at him. There was a gash over his eyebrow, and he was clutching his arm. He moved to pick him up to get somewhere safe.
“You’re pretty awesome,” he whispered before Logan could pick him up. Tyler chuckled at his stunned silence and brought up a hand to brush his fingers along Logan’s cheek. It came back black.
Possible head injury, okay.
He took a deep breath, tried to ignore the burning in his cheeks, and helped Tyler up. He put the boy’s healthy arm over his shoulders and helped to stabilise him with a hand on his waist.
“Oh?” Tyler breathed out when he touched him. Logan was happy to ignore him, just as much as Aiden standing around and counting the pile of bodies behind them.
Ben was stitching Tyler up on the way back to the graveyard. Taylor was still fussing over him while he brushed her off with words like ‘fine’ and ‘okay’, and ‘don’t worry’. He had no head injury, so Logan was confused as to what that was supposed to mean, but he focused on keeping an eye out as he stood in the back of the car, his gun ready to shoot.
“How many did Logan kill before he got to us?” Aiden asked completely unprompted. It was a question shot to Ben and Taylor, as they were split up.
“Uhh,” Taylor sounded confused as Ben held up three of his fingers, while still focused on Tyler’s arm. Aiden gasped at the revelation.
“What!” he shrieked. “That’s sixteen,” he said, more to himself than others. Tyler looked his way with a smirk. Logan turned back around on the road. He might have overreacted. Just a little. Then again, Tyler was hurt; what was he supposed to do?
He was kinda tired of all the blood. They carried a towel in their car just because the Phantom’s blood was really disgusting and way colder. It didn’t dry as easily, though.
Logan didn’t want to think about that. He has been repressing a lot lately.
He could feel eyes on the back of his neck the whole ride. He didn’t turn.
Logan was on the way home. It was the usual route he took, the usual time, and nothing interesting happened at school. Bayron still left him alone. The classes were relatively easy, and the only thing he was struggling with was staying awake.
Yet, something felt off.
The silence in his house was suffocating. It was never suffocating.
Without thinking about it, he grabbed a knife from the kitchen and made his way around the house, keeping his footsteps silent.
A shuffle from the corner of the room was enough for him to throw the knife. It embodied itself right next to the woman’s face.
His hand holding the file was shaking. Logan couldn’t stop it. He needed to call someone, text the group chat, anything.
If his phone didn’t die.
He couldn’t go home, not right now. He forced himself to keep the bile down at the thought of going back. Stop shaking.
It was cold. He needed others. Needed the warmth and needed to tell them everything.
Not everything, never everything.
It started raining. Logan cursed every god there is and more. He stopped walking and looked around. Ash’s and Aiden and Ben’s houses were near.
Maybe if he weren’t a coward, he could go back home and maybe process, address the situation, talk to his grandparents. Maybe if he weren’t a coward, he wouldn’t have to hide just because he couldn’t face his own mother.
He stood there for a while, hoping that the rain could wash out all the memories and his past as a whole. It did nothing else than make him shiver.
His feet took him to Ashlyn’s house. It was almost an instinct.
Ash<3 : Can any of you come to my house rn?
Psycho : omw :)
The bad twin : its raining
The good twin : whats going on?
Medic : Is everything okay?
The bad twin : istg if this is about phantom realm again
Ash<3 : It’s about Logan
The bad twin : what
The good twin : ???
Psycho : ohh don u have ballet rn
Ash<3 : He came to my house soaked
Ash<3 : Told my parents he needs to tell us something
Medic : We’ll be right there.
The good twin : be there in fifteen
The bad twin : make that five
Psycho : :)
Ben and Aiden knocked on the door, and the worried face of Ash’s dad greeted them right away. Logan was standing in the kitchen, with clothes that were not his own and a tired expression on. He looked up when they entered. His eyes were dull.
Aiden hated that look on him. He threw on all of his extrovert charm, but it did nothing to help. His smile cracked each minute of Logan looking into the distance with that hollow look.
“We need to wait for everyone. It-it’s not that urgent, though.” Ben couldn’t remember when their friend had last stuttered in front of them.
Ben brushed his cousin off gently, taking a seat by Logan on the couch in silent encouragement. They both knew the Hernández siblings, Ash even, would be better in this situation. That didn’t mean they weren’t worried. Aiden talked and ate the food Ashlyn’s mom made. Logan didn’t even seem to look in its direction.
Taylor and Tyler arrived a bit after Ashlyn’s dad went to pick her up.
“Did Ash tell you guys to sprint here?” Logan rasped as the front door opened.
“Well, it sounded urgent, Ash seemed pretty worried, so-”
“Logan.” Taylor rushed into the room, Tyler at her heels. “Are you okay? What happened?” Her hair was dumped. She kneeled in front of Logan, whose expression broke a little at her worry. Tyler stood next to his sister.
“I’m fine. Sorry for…worrying you guys. I just have something you should see.” He looked away. The twins could recognise something was wrong right away. Taylor took both of his hands in hers.
“Something’s wrong. You wouldn’t walk here just because. It’s pouring. Is your house okay? Do your grandparents know you’re here?” She kept looking at his face. “Is this about the Phantom dimension?” she whispered. Logan took a deep breath before turning to her. He spared a glance at the other twin.
“I-I can’t go back. Not right now. It’s stupid, I, uh, I’ll explain, promise, just,” he whispered, panicked, into the air. His friends listened, wary. “I’m scared. And it’s stupid, because,” he laughed out, “hell, I should be used to things way worse, but,” he lowered his head. “I’m scared.” Silence hung over the room.
They still had no idea what was happening. The group exchanged glances. Tyler pushed Aiden away to sit down next to Logan.
“We’re here. It’s gonna be okay, don’t worry,” he said and laid his arm over his shoulders, pressing him closer. Taylor sat cross-legged on the carpet, still holding his hand.
They may not know what to say or what to do to help, but they listened and tried to understand.
Ashlyn came in, hair undone, still in the clothes for ballet. Aiden summarised what little he’d told them over text on her way back. She looked them over and patted Logan’s hair before running up to change. When she came back, she sat down in the armchair.
“What did you need to tell us?” she asked, voice steady. Logan didn’t look at her. His heart was pounding. He reached into the kangaroo pocket of his — Ashlyn’s, actually — hoodie with shaky hands and pulled out a folded paper file. It was grey, with very little text on top. He looked at it for a second before throwing it on the table in front of them and hiding his face in Tyler’s shoulder.
“I haven’t read it yet. It’s important, though,” he mumbled.
The teenagers all exchanged looks. A moment later, Ash picked up the file. Her eyes widened at the picture on the first page. Her friends waited with bated breaths.
“Where did you get this?” Ash asked, expression betraying only a little fear. Her voice was neutral. Logan kept his eyes on his hands, where Taylor played with his fingers.
“Someone, uh, from way back contacted me. They-they broke into my house.” Tyler’s hold on him tightened. Others spotted looks of surprise or worry. “That’s why I can’t go back. It’s been…years since I last saw her.” He wanted to tell them more, wanted to say how hard it was living with his mother. He wanted to tell them everything.
He couldn’t bear the thought of them seeing him differently.
Logan’s head hurt. Maybe it was because of the time he spent out in the rain and caught something, maybe it was because of the thoughts occupying his head, maybe it was because he was so overwhelmed by the reality that he wanted to gouge his eyes out and cut his heart out of his chest. But he had no energy left. So he stayed in Tyler's embrace and allowed Taylor’s hands to ground him.
He remembered the first time she took him on a mission with her. It was after his dad died (or got himself killed, in his mother’s words).
He was hiding, refusing to watch the scene playing out in front of him. There were grunts and splashes of something hitting the floor, footsteps, shouts. He was still a ten-year-old kid, so when he heard his mom grunt, he peeked over to see if she was okay. There was a knife sticking out of her thigh.
His mom didn’t waste a second to shoot a bullet through the man’s skull.
The rest of them ended up on the floor in mere ten seconds. She saw him looking. There was not even a flinch in her expression. She walked off to where they came from, not turning back. She walked smoothly. As if the knife sticking out of her leg was his imagination.
Logan emptied his stomach in that warehouse. His mom didn’t wait for him, didn’t acknowledge him.
They moved to Ashlyn’s room for the reading.
It was a government file. There were notes, probably from his mother, so it’d cover everything.
They had countless information about Logan and his friends; guesses and theories on how they came to be, how the phantom dimension affects them, and so on.
It was sickening.
When Ash finished reading the last page, a grimace on her face, her eyes snapped to Logan sitting still next to Tyler.
“Logan, there’s a note. Personal.”
Logan’s heart hammered in his chest. He reached out for the folder; Ash gave it to him without a thought. He ripped out the note without reading a single word and crumpled it in his hands.
“There. Done,” he mumbled as he passed the file back. Tyler was looking at him weirdly.
Worry, his brain screamed at him.
He threw the paper towards a nearby trash can. He didn’t even feel a spark of joy when it made it inside.
Ben felt awkward based on his body language. Tayler was lying on the bed behind him, but it was still unusual for her to be quiet for so long. Aiden’s smile was bigger than usual, something that usually meant either anger or excitement, or both.
Ashlyn was the first one to speak after a long, stretched silence.
“The distance experiment will have to wait. If there is an entire part of the government looking after us, we have to act. Either by telling our parents or going back to Savannah.”
Tyler’s jaw was set. Aiden agreed with anything Ashlyn said, Ben followed his cousin, and Taylor always took her friend's thoughts and opinions seriously.
“Wouldn’t telling our parents put them in danger?” Taylor said, her voice weak, but loud enough in the silence. Everyone absorbed the statement.
“Okay, so what do we do? Grab our stuff and disappear? What if we don’t find any clues in Savanna? What if they come after us anyway?” Tyler’s breath hitched; he took a moment before continuing. “What if we never get to come back?”
The room was silent.
They knew they were in deep now. The situation weighed heavily on their shoulders — more than before.
Logan wanted to look at the good side, the fact that they were together, that they had each other, but really, he couldn’t. He had no idea what to do. They were lost, trapped. And there was no way out.