2044

Allison Fae

The glass hit the counter top with a heavy clank splashing the last lip of drink up into a golden caramel arc and as it splashed down back inside cheers roared around. Laughter bounced off the walls and bubbled off the fizz of the ale and polished shine of the cleaned glasses. The energy was electric as each person bounced off of one another as the current of the conversation started as a hunting story on one end and evolved into a story about the revelation of a cheating partner that turned into a humorous story about a construction project. Allison provided enough of her own tales of the hunt to the crowd, and it was as accepted as it was returned and played off of. The faces around her glowed with a shined resolve for fervor and anticipation.

She had just finished telling the story of her first hunt to the people around her—and she seemed to feel most comfortable in her past, as the words seemed to just slip off her tongue. It also helped she was playing to the crowd—as the other patrons around her seemed the type that were always in the mood for a good hunting story.

She felt a dull hum ringing echoed through her mind like a bell. It was an annoying sound—the kind of sound that recalled memories of school as a young child—calling in the children from their outside play. That same bell signaled the end of fun—the resumption of the dull diatribes that she so closely related to personal struggle and depression. She wanted more than anything to end that sound so she did the only thing that she could do—she belted out a hearty laugh. One so loud to drown out the sound in her head. The sound echoed throughout her mind to the point that it seemed to resound within, ringing far off in the distance. The man to her right had said...well, he said something she didn’t quite catch, but the others had laughed heartily in response. It was like an unspoken rhythm that each had contributed their own flawed melody to. In that sense the bar’s cavalcade were similar to a grand performance. Terrible in nature, but yet each person had a part to play—an inner responsibility to decimate the sorrows deposited into the bottles to replace the alcohol taken in.

The thought of her feeling like she belonged to anything involving another human being much less a small group of them being here was a sick sort of irony she would have died over a much different time ago. The thought of her now was so absurd she only laughed harder. It was so strange the feeling. Like an alien in her brain that did not belong—just as she did not, but so close a comfort it came to her that she continued laughing into the bottle as the sounds that could have been the other patrons but could have equally been flies on the wall whispering its insect murmurings. She felt like she shouldn’t be laughing as hard, but the warm feelings around the bar seemed jovial enough to allow it.

She felt the rhythm of the conversation start to wane and knew it was time to pick up and find her room. She bid the others a farewell she could barely remember the words to and grabbed her bag tight around her shoulder. More than anything she kept her bag by her side and throughout her jovial tidings it was a reserved feeling underneath the surface that she kept track of her bag at all times. She stumbled a moment as the world centered underneath her, then she noticed something gripped in her right palm. She was holding something and blinked slow and realized it was the room key she was passed by the barkeep when she initially sat down. She hadn’t realized she had been holding it the entire time—gripped tightly like a knife between her knuckles. Had her habits been so revealing that she was ready to defend herself at a moment’s notice? It was almost pitiful if it didn’t immediately reveal the nature of the world she existed in. And yet, she was thankful she remembered to get that earlier in the night—she would not have been able to form the words now if she had to return.

A dull sense in the back of her mind chided herself for being so flagrantly drunk, but on the other end of her brain she felt at peace for the first time in a very long time. It wrapped around her conscious like a warm blanket. It was that alien feeling that had latched itself like a parasite just below her amygdala. Invisible to the eye but its eldritch presence still existent before any other. Did it matter? Should it? Did she care? It was an internal debate she didn’t even want the public invitation to localized entirely in her head.

She stumbled her way toward a hall in the back—the blue neon wires that lined the walls—shimmering dull light that hurt her eyes if she looked at them too long. The light hurt, but it was the only thing that allowed her to see her way forward. She buckled and braced herself against the wall, placing her palm open on the wall as she took a deep breath. She felt the sweat beading on her forehead and suddenly felt increasingly hot. Too hot. She was panting until she closed her eyes and steadied her heart. There was a feeling—an icy presence that floated over her, calming her spirits. She held her breath, counting slowly from one to fifteen and then let out a flurry of giggles.

She found herself in a hallway with doors lined with the neon light and instantly found she didn’t know which room she had gotten a key for. Her eyes darted from one end of the hallway toward the other. Okay, okay okay….okay. Think. She thumbed the key in her fingers trying to gauge if there was a tag she could use to find the right room. She couldn’t see it from the distance she was looking so she tried bringing it closer. The blue light emanating from the wires on the side started a light headache sensation that drove her focus away from reading the number on the tag. She whispered to herself until the number started to focus, slowly piece by piece.

She found it. Okay, okay...okay. Good. She felt lightheaded for a moment as everything seemed to shake around her, a ghost of a fear came across her that she shouldn’t be feeling this sloppy...but there was a reassuring warmth that made her breathe easier. She’d find her room; she wasn’t on a time limit, and she even had the tag!

She took a deep breath and brought the tag close up to her face. Room...was that a three? Or...is that an E? Why would you use letters to denote a room? Well, thinking on it, I guess it’s not that weird, but it still...is kind of weird.

She blinked a few times and then rubbed her eyes. Was that an E or a 3? E or 3...E or—

“Need some help?” She turned on her heels, startled out of herself to see the man from before walking her way. She noticed he was a lot taller than he had seemed slumped over the bar counter. It had taken her off guard—she had to blink twice to process his question.

“I can’t tell if this is an E or a 3,” Allison said, and then immediately catching herself. “Sorry, that sounded insane. I...just don’t know what room mine is.”

The man smiled and said something that felt like a faint humming. She was trying really hard to focus on what he was saying, but it only sounded like he was humming syllables really loudly. There was a ringing sound in her mind behind his speech that was familiar to her. It reminded her of that bell. It brought to mind old cartoons she remembered seeing in her youth—and she found herself focusing in on his lips to try to read what he was saying. She realized at this moment she was terrible at reading lips. His mouth was moving like normal; he should be talking like normal, but why couldn’t she understand?

He pointed toward a door just a few doors down from the both of them and she nodded, mumbled something about thanks and headed off, putting the key in the door. It entered the slot, and she heard a click as the tumblers gave way. She opened the door and slammed it behind her.

She was stumbling over toward the bed—walking before even processing the look of the room. She saw a bed and she clamored for it. When she was off her feet she took a second and stared up at the ceiling. It was here in her own mind she knew this wasn’t right—she’s never reacted this adversely to alcohol. But then there came that reassuring feeling again—that surety that everything was going to be okay. Where was the source of that feeling?

She sat up to see the barest of rooms imaginable, but at least it wasn’t painted pitch black like the hall or the bar outside. Her eyes felt at rest for not having to adjust for the lack of the light.

She suddenly felt very sluggish, and her entire body slumped. Whiplash felt like too soft a term to describe what she felt in that moment. It was as if a boulder were suddenly heaved onto her back, and she were now given the task to carry it up the face of Mount Sinai. She grunted as a sharp feeling focused itself deep in her gut. She held a deep breath and tried to stabilize herself within her environment. You’re okay. You’re okay...you’re going to be okay. Don’t think about it.

She came back to herself when she shivered a feeling that went from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She coughed up a sick feeling that rasped hard against the back of her throat. She felt like she was going to die and let out a small cry but found that warm feeling working its way back in her brain.

Her breathing started to slow until she was calm enough to fall back against the flat of the bed. Her legs still dangling off the side of the bed and immediately lost sensation in everything but the thread her mind was following. If for but a moment she opened her eyes and while she felt like no time had passed, she felt a dark feeling inside her that that wasn’t accurate. Her head was pounding, and it seemed to echo down her body and then resound back up.

She slowly sat up and that dark feeling remained. She was intimately aware of that warmth she had felt before, but it wasn’t kind or inviting anymore. She felt like her mind was hers again, and a mounting suspicion filled her mind of how the night had gone.

Just what had happened to make her so suggestible to the embrace that feeling invited? She felt sick...and not in the way she had before. It was an anger inside her that felt dark—stupidity at lowering her guard in a foreign place. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid.

She swiveled her legs off the bed and took a shallow breath before standing to her full height. She panicked for a moment, thinking she lost her bag somewhere and her mind cleared instantly of the fog that hung heavy. She turned and let loose a breath when she saw the bag on its side on the other pillow on the bed.

Oh thank god. She reached over and grabbed the bag, undoing the lock and unzipping it to confirm the contents. She found the wrapped food and under the rest of her belongings she found the tablet underneath. Gathering her composure she zipped the bag back up and tossed it around her shoulder.

Her stomach growled, but she thought it wouldn’t be wise to stay here longer than necessary. She walked to the door and pulled it open. She jumped back when she saw that the little girl—Pinocchio—was staring up at her with a vacant expression.

“Jesus,” she said. “You scared me.”

She looked up at Allison and had no response to give back. Allison noticed that she had taken a step to be within the width of the door. After a few more seconds of extended silence Allison looked at her, “Is there a reason you’re here…?”

The girl had no response.

“Okay, well, I have to go, so could you step out of the way?”

“…”

Allison waited another moment and then brushed past the girl. She was easily twice her height and had more than enough force to go through. There was something to be said about the niceties of the interaction, but niceties were a pleasure she could ill afford now.

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Heading down the hallway she felt a tension she hadn’t noticed previously. She made it back to the bar’s main entrance and the room looked different—there were lights from the ceiling that were now lit—revealing the previously pitch-black surroundings. Details aside, there was nobody around—not even behind the bar counter. It brought additional questions to mind of what the girl was doing here, but in reality she would rather take this opportunity to investigate the strange tower and then get the hell out of there.

Outside, she was frozen stiff as she stared up at the sky. The tower stood tall as it had before, but at the tip what looked like a bolt of crimson red light shot into the sky. She couldn’t see where the light ended, and the blood red sky began. It was more vibrant than the normal hue of the sky.

As she looked up to down she saw people—dozens of people lined up in two rows all the way from her to the tower. Each person stood not in line like normal, front to back, but instead were all turned to the side, facing her. Their arms were glued to their sides.

Allison stared at them with a sense of looming dread. She saw the intention was to draw her toward the tower, and instantly she didn’t like how excited that this place seemed to get a new amber aura.

She moved to push through one of the lines, if they were so bent on getting her to the tower she’d just leave. It wasn’t imperative she investigate the tower alone—she could regroup with Sakonna. The man she pushed into stood firm—he was a lot taller than the girl back in the room.

Irritated, she tried to push past a younger looking woman—probably looked to be in her twenties. But also like the older man, she refused to move. Allison took a short breath and backed up a step. “Move out of the way.”

Nobody else made a sound, they didn’t even look away. She saw that they were breathing and blinking so they were still alive, but they moved not an inch in response.

She held out her left arm and shifted her hand—the lance extending to its full length, “Move, or I’m going to move you,” Allison said. She scanned the faces of those in front of her. None reacted.

“Okay then. Well, this isn’t going to be pleasant for some of you, then.”

She held out her hands with the lance horizontal and the metal shifted and grew out to wrap around the legs of the taller man. Allison worked the end of the metal and yanked him off his balance. As soon as his formation broke the crowd erupted into a frenzy.

Allison looked behind her and saw the people lined up start to run—their faces as expressionless as they were before. She was rushed by bodies and felt hands and fists and feet slam into her from all sides. She held onto the lance with a losing grip but bent down and grew the metal into a dome over her like a shield.

She gathered her breath as the pounding grew and echoed around her. The sound rang and echoed threatening to drive her mad. It was a constant belting of people from all sides, she had to try to keep the shield held down as she saw fingers trying to lift it up.

Shit. She needed to think of a plan, and fast. But suddenly, she felt like she was being lifted up, she held onto the hook she gripped the edge of the metal with as the entire dome was lifted, higher, much higher than anybody could have reasonably lifted.

An industrial magnet had been brought out—carried by a large crane-mech. She was lifted ten, twenty, thirty feet into the air. The people crowded around her all staring up with those blank faces.

She tried to warp the metal enough to get it unstuck from the magnet, but she didn’t have that strength. She got enough of it from the top so she could make a thin layer below her, so she didn’t have to hold on solely to keep her up. She looked around, but until she could figure a way to get off of this she couldn’t just jump off.

The crane started to move across the crowd, and they followed her underneath, shuffling with their faces still toward the sky. She could see they were heading toward the tower. She looked back, the crane itself was large—extremely so, it was running on the large treads and its slow and heavy movement shook the magnet back and forth. She then got an idea—and took in a deep breath. It was risky, but she needed something crazy to get out of her current situation.

She worked the metal down into a long liquid, she shot an arc down toward one of the treads, and the magnet followed the trail down, bending the crane down as the trail coated the right tread. The magnet slammed down and busted the tread. Allison had to lift her legs up to avoid being crushed, but then she felt her leg stuck up to the magnet. Her prosthesis.

She gripped it tight and tried to separate from the magnet, but the impact against the ground splayed her arms out and left her upside down—still connected to the magnet from her leg. The impact loosened her grip and she rolled out on the ground.

She heard the stampeding surround her and then she felt arms all around her. Arms of all sizes grappled around her arms and legs, trying to lift her into the air. She tried to kick and break free with her real leg, but every time that she managed to break the grip of one, another three would replace it.

A hand covered her mouth, and she didn’t hesitate to bite down. The hand retreated, but no sound erupted from the owner. She realized that they were stuck between a rock and a hard place, they couldn’t yank her off the magnet and she couldn’t break free of their clutches. She didn’t see how it started, but in the corner of her eyes she felt the glowing warmth of rising heat—upside down she saw a glimpse of the tower’s light start to kick into overdrive. The light was almost blinding, and she felt all around her a rushing wave of unbearable heat.

With all the bodies around her she felt a loss of breath and her body starting to sweat like crazy she continued to feel the bodies all around trying to rip her away from the magnet. She continued to kick and to bite any hands that came near her face—drawing blood wherever she could. She felt the heat increase once more and everything was tinted a shade of orange all around—she felt like she was in the center of an oven. It felt like her skin was burning, and it only receded when her leg disconnected from the magnet, she felt the crowd lift her high into the air and realized they were raising the heat—however they were able to—to demagnetize her leg. She noticed the metal from her lance had also no longer stuck to the magnet, it had fallen and melted through some of the people closest in the crowd, but she couldn’t will it back to her.

She felt the arms over her tighten and the light receded and kept her from passing out from the heat. Allison was still upside down, and saw they were headed to the tower. Despite her best efforts, she was going to be learning the secrets of this tower in the worst way imaginable.

This would be a fantastic moment for an assist, Sakonna.

Allison was led toward the entrance of the tower. The doors opened wide, and they filled into what seemed to be an elevator. She wondered at how much technology they had access to here—she tried to think of something—anything that she could use to get out of her current situation.

The doors closed and Allison could swear that she could hear a pin drop on how quiet it was. Her heart was pounding, and she felt the arm clutching her chest seem to grasp harder in response to her heartbeat.

The elevator rose and she continued to struggle until the doors opened. She was passed along the crowd until she reached the end of the elevator, and she was staring out at a brilliantly golden-amber flame until the world around her spun around and she landed hard on the ground. Her entire body ached, and she rolled over. The elevator doors closed behind her, and she was left on the ground with an extreme heat radiating around her.

“Well, you put up quite the fight,” a deep voice echoed from across the room.

Allison held her arms close to each other as she slowly sat up, pressing her thumb into her left arm. Her vision cleared and she saw the column of fire shooting upward into what looked like a glass prism up top—that object converted the fire and light into the crimson light bolting up with a crackling hum. Between the two ends of the room was a gap that looked to lead to the source of the fire below, but it was too deep to confirm. On the other end stood a figure that looked to be clad in a silver-shined armor.

“I watched your coming here with great interest. Of course I watch all newcomers very keenly, but you...oh, you walked in here like a bonfire of energy.”

Allison moved with great effort to stand to her feet, grunting, she raised up and looked at the figure across the way. “I’m not keen to talk to shadows. Reveal yourself and stop hiding behind your masses.”

The figure chuckled and started to close the distance between them. She saw the man closer in the firelight. He had a large build, and his dark hair was tied in a bun. He had a really nasty scar running across his face, it looked like it had real difficulty healing correctly.

“And here we are, I like to dress up for special occasions, and I would be remiss to miss a day such as this. I am infinitely curious as to the true nature of your energy. What fuels the strange powers you possess?”

Allison noticed a small change within the air and breathed easier knowing that she finally found the chance she needed, but she would need time. She looked up to the man, “Strange way to begin a meeting, don’t you think? You think I want to give you the answers to satisfy your curiosity when I’m dragged here by...that?”

The man smiled. “A trader of information, confidence or bravado when faced with the god of a people...I can’t say it doesn’t intrigue me more...I shall meet your question. I am Vita. God of Life and Light of this land,” he stretched his arms wide. “And this is my flame, here which stands as a testament to my abilities. The fire burns brightest when it senses the continued support of my people, whose strength is fed back through to them.”

“Your fire seems to brainwash the souls that step foot into these grounds, do they not?”

“Brainwash is such an outdated term. I offer the suggestion of comfort, and in every case the people have chosen comfort.”

So, this was the ploy. That was the foreign voice that invaded her mind...and it had only appeared in full after drinking away her shield against these kinds of invasions. She felt so stupid for letting her guard down so simply.

“You play the part of a god to people who you trick into building a civilization for you. Are you really so vain to fall into that cliché?”

He laughed. “So, oppositional to the end. I guess in that part you are a match. That’s fine. I was hoping for more of an open dialogue here, but if that’s how this is going to go, that is more than fine with me.” He looked her straight in the eyes and offered little else other than a small smile.

There was a whirring behind her, and she gritted her teeth as she reached out her left arm and felt the metal of her lance snap into her hand and solidify. She rushed forward and thrust the lance forward. She should have been worried that he didn’t move to dodge her attack.

She took another step and felt the tip of the lance connect to his armor. It snapped with a spark, and she found it was a familiar stick. The tip pierced two holes in the chest-piece of the armor, but she felt it stick true. And then she understood. His armor had some sort of magnetic quality to it.

“Interesting...very interesting. It seems to be a sort of strengthened metal, although its composition is unlike anything I’ve ever seen—to be able to move to you by some sort of remote locomotion,” he studied the long lance that stuck out from his chest, taking slow steps toward Allison. “Or...it’s but a simple metal and the motion and magic of it all lies with you.”

He placed a firm hand around the edge of the lance and Allison tried to rip it off of his chest, but he pushed her back, she slid back closer to the edge near the fire. She pushed back, trying to spin the metal of the lance around his hand, but as soon as a liquid portion separated from the solid it stuck quick to his armor.

“Shame you’re such a one trick pony,” Vita said. “You’ll do well to keep our flame burning for quite some time longer.” He pushed her even closer to the edge.

She looked out of the corners of her eyes and saw the room between her, and the pit shrank with every second.

Sakonna. I need your help! This is not looking good for me.

“Maybe when you’re all used up, begging for salvation,” Vita began. “You can see the light of the amber light just like the rest of them. I shall await it.” With a final shove he lifted a leg like a column and pressed it into her abdomen. She let out a gasp as she fell over the edge of the pit. Her eyes wide as the reached out for the lance. Her mind screamed a name she hadn’t yelled for in decades.

JACE!!!

But nobody answered. She fell into darkness and awaited the contact she made with the ground to end it all.