Rev 1: Made some fixes and some changes to the content.
Rev 2: More edits
The dim room faded further into a complete absence of light and sound. Tyler was relieved to no longer hear Ben’s wheezing, though it did unnerve him in a way. That noise had been one of his few constant companions through this long ordeal. In his mouth was the taste of ashes. The ashes changed to blood, and then the blood became something alien. It was neither bitter, nor sweet, and was hard to find the words to describe it.
It is the taste of the red of a sunset. It is the sorrow of seeing a friend die.
That was an odd thought. Was this a dream? Was any of this real?
Why do you assume dreams are not real? The people you meet there live and die. Like you, they are ashes before the fire. Everything burns, but it is all real.
Those were definitely not his thoughts, and this was feeling less and less like a dream. It was like a window in his mind had been opened. Something… a bird… a crow flew in...
a raven.
The taste in his mouth changed again, became a… name? He spoke it, and then the light like the early morning returned soft and yellow. He hadn’t risen, yet he was unbound and standing. This was less about reality, and more of an accommodation. He knew that somehow.
He was standing in an empty rectangular room without doors or windows. It reminded him of one of his mother’s canvases. There was a man facing him dressed in black clothing that had the look of a uniform, though it bore no insignia, and denoted no rank that he could see.
The man’s black hair fell to the shoulders. His features so sharp it seemed you could slice a piece of paper against his profile. He remained motionless except for his eyes, which were constantly moving giving him a sense of twitchy anticipation.
“Hello Speaker,” the man said without moving his lips. If Tyler closed his eyes, he was sure he could fool himself into thinking that he was hearing the words with his ears. He found to his dismay that he couldn’t close his eyes.
“Hello Hu—“
“Do not say names here, Speaker,” the man said. “This is a dangerous place for names.” You may call me Thought, for such I am.”
“—Well, Thought,” he said. “Why do you call me Speaker?”
“Such you are.”
That was helpful. He tried again, “Why—”
“Why him? Why you?” The voice was clipped and rapid. His head jerked back and forth, not at all human. Now that Tyler looked more closely, it was like someone had zipped something up inside a human suit. The bag of skin and clothes he wore only seemed human when still. When he moved, it was like looking at a swarm of bees under a blanket.
“—am I here?” Tyler finished.
“Ah, oh I see.” There was a slight plucking sound in the air, a small tremor. Thought sat, and a soft leather chair appeared beneath him. He held out his hand and pulled a steaming mug from the air. The room smelled of cinnamon. “Sit, refresh yourself,” he said.
Tyler attempted to copy the motion, and fell over backwards. He cried out in surprise. The floor was still painfully solid.
“That is not the way to do it.” Thought gave him an appraising look.
“I figured.” He got back to his feet. “I’ll stand.”
“Don’t be childish. Has no one shown you even this much?” His head made small side-to-side jerking motions. “Focus your mind, determine your need, and speak it.”
New Age Bullshit, Tyler thought. Fine. Focusing would be easier if he could have closed his eyes. Still he stared at an empty space at his feet and spoke, “A million dollars” There was a crack, and his head snapped back. Thought had crossed the distance between them in seconds, and struck him hard across the face.
He put his hand to his mouth. “How? Why did you hit me?”
Thought’s hand was quicksilver fast. He grabbed him under his chin, “Show me your tongue.” Tyler resisted at first, but the pressure was like a vise being turned. Finally, he stuck out his tongue.
Thought examined it, and nodded slightly. “You’re clean. I should have been more careful. You’ve had no training at all.” Seeing what must have been the bewilderment Tyler felt on his face, his eyes widened.
“Never speak a wish, only a need. Coveting carries the taint. Try again.” He released Tyler’s chin.
Tyler stepped back warily, rubbing his jaw, and then realized there was no place to run. He steadied himself and focused. “Chair,” he said.
Nothing happened.
“You have to exercise belief.”
“How do I do that?”
“Act as though what was not, was” His confusion must have been obvious. So, Thought added, “Speak then sit before the chair appears.”
He remembered how the floor felt the last time, but he wasn’t getting out of this without trying obviously. He repeated the process, spoke the word, and spent what felt like five minutes falling repeatedly to the ground.
He stood rubbing his backside. “I’m done.”
Thought cocked his head. “I have never known a Speaker to have such trouble. Breath is life, and life is in the clay,” he said. He concentrated and said, “Insight.” A low thrumming noise moved through the room like a wave. Thought took a deep breath, and something rippled under his skin moving toward his mouth. He exhaled a cloud of dark motes that settled over the room.
Tyler gasped breathing some in, and the room lit up with glowing strings. He could now see a web of tiny filaments between the two of them. He spoke, “Chair,” felt a vibration in his core, and the filaments shifted to form an outline, which as he sat resolved into a soft leather chair like the one he watched TV in at his father’s apartment.
Tyler voice was soft with wonder. He asked, “Can I bring people here this way?” He needed to make sure Ally was safe.
“No, the spoken can be altered, but not summoned.” He noticed that none of the tiny lines came into contact with either of them.
Well, forget that idea. It just couldn’t be that easy. Concentrating he said, “Food.” He looked at the plate now on his lap. “Nachos and quesadillas?” he asked.
Thought nodded, “Be careful. While you can satisfy an appetite this way, you are not really eating. The hunger will return.”
The smell of food made Tyler ravenous. He inhaled more than ate, and the plate kept filling. Moments passed in silence until he looked up, “Okay, why him? Why me?”
“Do you think he comes out, on this your dark night to scare children?”
Tyler’s face lined in thought. “I don’t know. He seemed crazy, not normal—”
“When the boundaries are thin, between what truly is and what you can see, he hunts.”
Tyler didn’t want to ask the question. “Hunts? Does he want to kill me?”
“No, worse, he would subvert you. Listen, I can only bend your subjective time for so long before damaging you. Ten of your seconds have passed, I cannot risk another.” He stood.
“Wait, I have more questions.”
“You must find your own answers, but realize there is always a price to pay for insight. Go, your bonds cannot hold you if you understand. He is coming.”
The room dimmed becoming once more the cabana. He saw Jack with his back to him leaning over the dead vampire. He strained against the zip ties, which still held his arms in place. He looked toward Ben and froze.
Ben’s skin was dark, and the glitter slithered across it. “Jack,” Ben’s voice came out in a hiss. “I remember what you did.” He began to writhe in his restraints.
Not good. Tyler thought. Would the trick work here? He closed his eyes and concentrated, saw the filaments slipping in and out of focus. He said, “Release,” and heard an answering tone in his mind.
There was a popping sound of the zip ties snapping and his arms came free. Cool. His shoulders hurt, but he couldn’t waste time with that. He looked up to see that he had also released Ben, shit.
Rev 2: More edits
Chapter 10
The dim room faded further into a complete absence of light and sound. Tyler was relieved to no longer hear Ben’s wheezing, though it did unnerve him in a way. That noise had been one of his few constant companions through this long ordeal. In his mouth was the taste of ashes. The ashes changed to blood, and then the blood became something alien. It was neither bitter, nor sweet, and was hard to find the words to describe it.
It is the taste of the red of a sunset. It is the sorrow of seeing a friend die.
That was an odd thought. Was this a dream? Was any of this real?
Why do you assume dreams are not real? The people you meet there live and die. Like you, they are ashes before the fire. Everything burns, but it is all real.
Those were definitely not his thoughts, and this was feeling less and less like a dream. It was like a window in his mind had been opened. Something… a bird… a crow flew in...
a raven.
The taste in his mouth changed again, became a… name? He spoke it, and then the light like the early morning returned soft and yellow. He hadn’t risen, yet he was unbound and standing. This was less about reality, and more of an accommodation. He knew that somehow.
He was standing in an empty rectangular room without doors or windows. It reminded him of one of his mother’s canvases. There was a man facing him dressed in black clothing that had the look of a uniform, though it bore no insignia, and denoted no rank that he could see.
The man’s black hair fell to the shoulders. His features so sharp it seemed you could slice a piece of paper against his profile. He remained motionless except for his eyes, which were constantly moving giving him a sense of twitchy anticipation.
“Hello Speaker,” the man said without moving his lips. If Tyler closed his eyes, he was sure he could fool himself into thinking that he was hearing the words with his ears. He found to his dismay that he couldn’t close his eyes.
“Hello Hu—“
“Do not say names here, Speaker,” the man said. “This is a dangerous place for names.” You may call me Thought, for such I am.”
“—Well, Thought,” he said. “Why do you call me Speaker?”
“Such you are.”
That was helpful. He tried again, “Why—”
“Why him? Why you?” The voice was clipped and rapid. His head jerked back and forth, not at all human. Now that Tyler looked more closely, it was like someone had zipped something up inside a human suit. The bag of skin and clothes he wore only seemed human when still. When he moved, it was like looking at a swarm of bees under a blanket.
“—am I here?” Tyler finished.
“Ah, oh I see.” There was a slight plucking sound in the air, a small tremor. Thought sat, and a soft leather chair appeared beneath him. He held out his hand and pulled a steaming mug from the air. The room smelled of cinnamon. “Sit, refresh yourself,” he said.
Tyler attempted to copy the motion, and fell over backwards. He cried out in surprise. The floor was still painfully solid.
“That is not the way to do it.” Thought gave him an appraising look.
“I figured.” He got back to his feet. “I’ll stand.”
“Don’t be childish. Has no one shown you even this much?” His head made small side-to-side jerking motions. “Focus your mind, determine your need, and speak it.”
New Age Bullshit, Tyler thought. Fine. Focusing would be easier if he could have closed his eyes. Still he stared at an empty space at his feet and spoke, “A million dollars” There was a crack, and his head snapped back. Thought had crossed the distance between them in seconds, and struck him hard across the face.
He put his hand to his mouth. “How? Why did you hit me?”
Thought’s hand was quicksilver fast. He grabbed him under his chin, “Show me your tongue.” Tyler resisted at first, but the pressure was like a vise being turned. Finally, he stuck out his tongue.
Thought examined it, and nodded slightly. “You’re clean. I should have been more careful. You’ve had no training at all.” Seeing what must have been the bewilderment Tyler felt on his face, his eyes widened.
“Never speak a wish, only a need. Coveting carries the taint. Try again.” He released Tyler’s chin.
Tyler stepped back warily, rubbing his jaw, and then realized there was no place to run. He steadied himself and focused. “Chair,” he said.
Nothing happened.
“You have to exercise belief.”
“How do I do that?”
“Act as though what was not, was” His confusion must have been obvious. So, Thought added, “Speak then sit before the chair appears.”
He remembered how the floor felt the last time, but he wasn’t getting out of this without trying obviously. He repeated the process, spoke the word, and spent what felt like five minutes falling repeatedly to the ground.
He stood rubbing his backside. “I’m done.”
Thought cocked his head. “I have never known a Speaker to have such trouble. Breath is life, and life is in the clay,” he said. He concentrated and said, “Insight.” A low thrumming noise moved through the room like a wave. Thought took a deep breath, and something rippled under his skin moving toward his mouth. He exhaled a cloud of dark motes that settled over the room.
Tyler gasped breathing some in, and the room lit up with glowing strings. He could now see a web of tiny filaments between the two of them. He spoke, “Chair,” felt a vibration in his core, and the filaments shifted to form an outline, which as he sat resolved into a soft leather chair like the one he watched TV in at his father’s apartment.
Tyler voice was soft with wonder. He asked, “Can I bring people here this way?” He needed to make sure Ally was safe.
“No, the spoken can be altered, but not summoned.” He noticed that none of the tiny lines came into contact with either of them.
Well, forget that idea. It just couldn’t be that easy. Concentrating he said, “Food.” He looked at the plate now on his lap. “Nachos and quesadillas?” he asked.
Thought nodded, “Be careful. While you can satisfy an appetite this way, you are not really eating. The hunger will return.”
The smell of food made Tyler ravenous. He inhaled more than ate, and the plate kept filling. Moments passed in silence until he looked up, “Okay, why him? Why me?”
“Do you think he comes out, on this your dark night to scare children?”
Tyler’s face lined in thought. “I don’t know. He seemed crazy, not normal—”
“When the boundaries are thin, between what truly is and what you can see, he hunts.”
Tyler didn’t want to ask the question. “Hunts? Does he want to kill me?”
“No, worse, he would subvert you. Listen, I can only bend your subjective time for so long before damaging you. Ten of your seconds have passed, I cannot risk another.” He stood.
“Wait, I have more questions.”
“You must find your own answers, but realize there is always a price to pay for insight. Go, your bonds cannot hold you if you understand. He is coming.”
The room dimmed becoming once more the cabana. He saw Jack with his back to him leaning over the dead vampire. He strained against the zip ties, which still held his arms in place. He looked toward Ben and froze.
Ben’s skin was dark, and the glitter slithered across it. “Jack,” Ben’s voice came out in a hiss. “I remember what you did.” He began to writhe in his restraints.
Not good. Tyler thought. Would the trick work here? He closed his eyes and concentrated, saw the filaments slipping in and out of focus. He said, “Release,” and heard an answering tone in his mind.
There was a popping sound of the zip ties snapping and his arms came free. Cool. His shoulders hurt, but he couldn’t waste time with that. He looked up to see that he had also released Ben, shit.
#
The secret of poetry is cruelty.--Jon Anderson