Something Somewhere Lurking

The next morning that the three travelers were woken up. It was Rassie who was intrigued, yet remained behind quietly. Even Rassie was not aware of the fact that she was secretly recording the conversation from earlier, and Tanner was using this as a reference point to form a conclusion based on the previous failed gaming session, where Nadine had … by their hypothesis, seemingly opened a door to another universe. Though how could the universe seemingly restart every time they plugged into the machine. And why were they somehow unable to go back to their home world now?

“Hey Nadine,” Rassie said to Nadine, while playing with her hair while they road in the cart to go visit Aldiel. “Am I the only one with the feeling where it almost seems like the game is toying with us, almost like the game-engine is alive somehow? Like it wants us to be dead?”

“You sure tend to think the worst,” Nadine said, half joking. Malcolm cackled in the background, because both of them just how cynical they were. How did they know the game was not designed to be that way. There was a lot of general suspicion to share with the whole group. “Let’s just try to work together, and see what comes of this.”

When the group had arrived with their cart at the prison, of which Al-diel was currently staying on treason charges against the crown (a game world crown, not the dream-scanners and secret police that plague the world of flesh and bone), it was Rassie who, while she had observed many versions of this game played over many times before, for example Malcolm’s version when he did not cover his tracks finding tacks to repair the game, this game seemed different. She felt a bit of unease, going into the dark cell. The dark ambiance did not make her feel much better about it, especially with the sound of crawling squeaking rats that were plaguing the prison. “Is it a hero? Leave at once, my family is done for. I will be vivisect-ed, and my sisters head will be on spikes by the end of the month.” The way the man, despite being in his early twenties, having a look of late twenties, made her feel was uncomfortable; as she had never before felt like crying and vomiting at the same time. It was strange how a seemingly hardened dream-scanner was less used to this than Nadine, who had already played the game once before. If this was in fact, really a just a game at all.

“Brother Al-diel, are these the heroes?” said Elena.

Nadine resisted cackling, as it was all formulaic down to a T.

“Brothers, sisters. They are coming, I can hear there marches.” Al-diel cold not resist coughing, for his immune system was lacking due to the month without eating. “First save ye selves, for I hear marching, marching, marching.” And sooner than they knew it, there was the sound of beating hoof steps. “Go at once.”

The group boarded up the cart quickly. “We can warp in weapons later.”

“Warp weapons?” asked Elena, “Sounds evil and magical.”

“So all cheaters are magical, great I know what power –” said Nadine.

“Nadine, not now!” said Rassie.

“Hey guys, look ahead of you. I think we are surrounded.” said Malcolm.

The cart came to a screeching halt.

Malcolm remembered when he barely survived being attacked by wild-dogs.

Malcolm recoiled from the flickering lights buzz that formed a foam around around the edge of his eye. Then squinted in pain. … Static.

His vision formed into what could possibly be perceived as television noise, buzzing their brain now partially man and machine. Yet there were no other aspect that distinguished him from any other human being. It had been a a couple of years sense he had been on the emergency room table. He got up abruptly as if it had only been a day. He, or what was left of him, saw a computer database in their right eye. “Merging with the flesh interface, initiated. Take a few weeks to get used to the new network. Not many made it out. You were lucky.” Malcolm wasn’t sure where the voice was coming from, all he knew was that it was not his own.

He had finally began to get used to his new apartment. The hospital gave him a decent level of compensation money from the experiment. Although he could not feel his head completely, he found himself able to do things he was not before. He used his hands to make the objects within the room float. This was recorded into the database. “Memorization of objects initiated.” the brain-interface said. He browsed with his finger tips trying to find any trace of his old existence. But it was no longer there. For him, he was a ghost.

As he slept that night, Malcolm begin to have nightmares again. Visions of his own apartment began to fade, into what felt like a large dark tunnel that looked as if it would go on forever. But he walked on and onward into the abyss. “What was the experiment, why am I having these visions?” He felt like he was beginning to develop a head ache as he slept. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, kelt down, and wept. For the pain from his head was to great. Tempted to use some sort of pain medication, instead the computer told him, “Don’t try to use any pain medication. I can provide a map for a suitable prescription, if only you will wait for about a week.” He slammed his fist on the lamp table. It shook violently. “You think I can wait a week!”

“Your not used to your new brain yet.” the database said.

Malcolm didn’t understand why the new part of his brain was talking to him. He barely remembered anything that came before the surgery. He wondered if he would be able to work. In his current state, this was not possible. Malcolm wanted to get over his head ache soon, though he was afraid to take the drugs in the kitchen. Who cares if the left hemisphere simply would not cooperate with the other half. He tried to watch television, as the early morning gradually eased into an early sunlight after the dawn. His vision blurred, and he passed out again. He woke into what felt like a dream. He rode in the back of the car, with his friends he barely remembered. They were only silhouettes.

Malcolm heard a voice in the dark. “So your still alive man, how in the hell did you survive those dogs mauling you?”

He wasn’t sure how to respond, as he barely remembered who he was.

While he rode through the car, Malcolm remembered suddenly remembered all those years again when he nearly died in the street. He was laying upon the pavement, staring longingly upon the emotionally empty glass of the meadow of gold. Yet he was not able to remember the face of the man in silhouette he was riding with. “I’m going to pick you up. We need to find Ellen, I’m concerned about her.” Malcolm only just barely remembered the voice. The car covered in shadows had a flickering display screen. “So where are we going to go tonight?” said Malcolm.

“Try not to hold onto the past, focus on the future.” said Richard. He understood just how easy this was to do. Yet Malcolm wanted to remember why the dog fight happened. They both needed some way to make a living, maybe even go to college in some state where nobody knew who they were.

As soon as the two found Ellen, they went undercover. Then payed for a semester in a university where nobody knew who they were. Then changed their names on the dream-webs, and pursued a new life.

Rassie got a call on his cell from Malcolm. “It will be one more day. I promise, then I can send into the three fifty.” Rassie said not to forget the interest, it was up a dollar amount a day. Malcolm shook his head, then pressed the button to hang up.

Malcolm was at it again, doing drugs. He had to pay a drug lord to make his head ache never come back again. His mind reflected back to the car ride with Richard, that he had met after about a couple of years. Who was probably dining out right about now. Over the last few months there was no direct back and forth, only the unsaid between two lovers walking away in opposite direction forever separated by a speeding train. He called him up.

“Hey Richard, can you do me a favor?” said Malcolm.

“Sure … but you owe me.” said Richard, then hung up.

When they got the drug store.

“Your fifteen under, but I will move it to your next payment.” said the drug lord, shuffling the coins into his purse. “Don’t work yourself to hard.” said the man on the other end of the window, smoking his pipe. Causing it to fog heavily.

That was close. “Thanks Richard.”

“You need to break your habit.”

Whatever pain he experienced then, would be nothing like this.

He was the only that hadn’t given up, not just yet.

When the group was given their cell in the castle, at first they were unaware of what law they had broken. So Millie, took it upon herself to ask what they had done. “What, so knight in shining armor, have we done?” said Millie to the knight.

“You wandered off into the purple slime.” said the night of the dark knight.

“So why were we not sent here before?” said Millie.

“You were hell hard to find, your brother is something.” said the knight.

Millie remembered when her parents were in a similar situation. She and her sister visited them for the last time, hoping this was all a misunderstanding. That the dark night had not really taken over the castle. Yet after father’s remains were sent across the region, and her mother’s head was on a spike on the castle walls, there was no longer any real doubt. She had began to become hardened sense, even perhaps coming to terms with the eventual fact that they might be found again. It was there poor maid, just there age that helped them escape. Though she was not there, when she herself was sent to the head mans block, she always pictured her wooden shoes trembling forever. It gave her dreams, nightmares. Visions that would never go away, and with this while she could not accomplish this herself, she wanted the night to be dead. Yet the knight seemed omnipotent, almost as if her had the blessing of the eyes of god themselves. Of whatever they may be.

“Will our heads be on pikes too?” she Millie asked.

“You women will, men? God help you.” the knight said. The knight looked closely at Nadine, “you look enough like a woman, I can take a small token of your appreciation for a beheading instead of a quartering.” Nadine pictured herself blowing the knight, the thought of which made her want to vomit.

“What now man! What!” Malcolm could not believe it. Quartering? He never even knew this could be done in the game, and how the programmers of the game could only do so much. Because to him in his mind he still considered this to be a game. But perhaps maybe it was this child like mentality, that helped him think clearly. The knight exited the hallway, and it was Malcolm that called the group together. “I have a plan.” But Nadine had a song of her own, playing in her head:

Somewhere, something, watching,

In a room, far away,
Somewhere, lurking, everywhere.
Watching, for the night.

Malcolm and Rassie led the group.

“I don’t trust Nadine to lead the pack, she’ll just mess something up, like allow Millie to get caught. ‘Oh I read your sub text Rena, don’t think I’m not on to you to.”

Nadine was still singing:

Waiting for the night

to come ... haunting the un-lit house.

It is watching, watching, Beyond the door.

“I would guillotine gun you if I had one.” said Rassie.

“And I can warp in one, watch your tongue.” Malcolm warps in a guillotine gun, and breaks the bars open in the prison cell but shooting in a circular motion.

They rushed out of the prison, and it was Malcolm that continued to shoot guards heads up. He cackled as he saw there neck pipes squirt with blood. Squirt, squirt, squirt. Bhahaha! Moving on, Rena eventually called for a ship. It was a dream-scanner ship, for while unknowing it her cyborg eye surveillance camera (while a danger sign in the flesh and bone world) was a god send. For it was the only thing that sent a super fortress down from the sky to pick them up.

“What are they doing here?” said Malcolm.

“They are our only hope.” said Rassie.

“Traitor.” said Malcolm to Rassie.

“Jesus, you should say.” And fell off the ship deliberately.

“Rassie! No!” Nadine reached out, to try to save her. As she did not want another life to be on her hands again, like poor Millie.

“Farewell friends, for it is only a game.” said Rassie

It was the next day, Rassie was released from prison. She was sent to the court yard, and climbed the steps. The headsman ripped open her shirt, and she placed her neck upon the block. As she stared into the basket, fear at first came over her. Then realized it was one less soldier working on Tanner’s side. She had won.

A sound of metal cutting bone. Blood squirt.

Sound of her head crashing.

Darkness.