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Ex Nihilo
Purgatory In The Purge The Beckoning

Purgatory In The Purge The Beckoning

"Man, this sucks." I grumble as the umpteenth car ignores my frantic waving from the side of the highway. I'd hoped that at least one good Samaritan would be willing to give me a lift back to the city but there's been absolutely zero luck.

With no other option in sight, I rub my sore legs and begin trudging onward. The highway was bathed in the reddish glow of early evening and I'm still nowhere close to the city. Its easy to underestimate distances when you have the luxury of travelling by car. Now that I have the dubious privilege of making my way home on foot alone, I have a renewed appreciation for the wonders of mass transit and private vehicles.

I had left the penthouse in the late morning after the confrontation with Maus and by the time I parted ways with the cultists, a good chunk of the day had already passed. Whatever strange magic the cult used caused the flow of time to get all screwy around them. My watch told me that hours had elapsed during the course of that single conversation I was having with the nurse. At the rate I was travelling now, I would probably reach the city after dinner.

Should have taken my phone with me this morning. Calling a cab would be really helpful right now.

"Oh, thank heavens." I sigh in relief at the sight of a turnoff splitting off from the main trunk of the highway. The turnoffs service the smaller industrial estates that dot the landscape surrounding the city. And those industrial estates are serviced by public buses that ferry workers to and fro. I might not have my phone with me but my wallet sits snugly in a trouser pocket.

Following the bend in the road, I saunter under a gantry mounted with multiple LED displays, reporting on traffic conditions on the road and within the industrial estate itself. Mounted in the center of the gantry is a HD widescreen that monotonously rolls through a selection of ads to bombard passing drivers with.

FRIED CHICKEN UP AHEAD.

Good to know. I might have dinner here before going back home. Would give me the opportunity to rest my legs as well.

REGULATE YOURSELF TO REGULATE YOUR LIFE.

Ugh, an ad put out by that cult? The screen shows a hooded gray robed man spreading his arms wide while a halo bursts out from his back.

SEEK THE TRINITY SEA WITH US.

Images of the ocean, waves crashing into the shore and people frolicking at the beach. Honestly not what I expected out of cult advertising. Usually they try to portray a more mysterious image than a bunch of randos partying in swimsuits.

Unless the plan is to use beautiful folks to entice people to join. Got to admit, some of the actors the cult hired for their ad are pretty hot.

DROP BY OUR TEMPLE TODAY!

No thanks. I've had enough cult based weirdness to last me for quite sometime. Not that I'm not grateful to them for helping me, I just would rather do my own thing and at my own pace. Also the talk about the Trinity Sea creeps me out.

GOT INTO AN ACCIDENT? NEED A LAWYER? FREE CONSULTATION.

If I get runover on my way to the nearest bus stop, I'll keep you guys in mind. Also how get a better model for your ads. The lawyer in that image looks more sleazy than the cult people.

ARE YOU AWAKE?

I hope so. Falling asleep at the wheel while driving is a surefire way to get into an accident.

DO YOU SEE THE TRUTH?

Is this another ad from the cult? They're really going all out. Though this one is just white letters on a black background.

I WANT TO SEE YOU. THE REAL YOU.

"What the fuck?" I mutter at the screen staring down at me. The cars zoom past, not bothering about the black and white ramblings being displayed.

LET EVERYTHING ELSE GO AND RETURN TO ME.

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Cold sweat drips down my back. This is some kind of bad joke, I know it. Why else would anyone put this kind of messages up on display?

SCARED. ALONE. THAT IS WHAT I AM.

OK. Its not funny anymore. I begin casting my eyes about, noting the pair of cameras mounted on the gantry. Those cameras are used to monitor traffic flow though and from the angle they've been mounted, I can tell that neither camera is focusing on me right now.

SO PLEASE, COME BACK QUICKLY.

I try to duck my head but the screen exerts a near hypnotic hold over me. No matter how much my mind recoils from the messages being displayed, my eyes insist on drinking the rubbish up.

NUMBER 69.

-------

"Number 69."

A woman's voice whispers into my ear. But there is no one beside me. An invisible overseer who sees what I see, hears what I hear and can command me with nothing but a thought. I want to scream in frustration, at this enforced state of obedience I have been forced into.

Yet I cannot. Because of what the rules say. And my existence revolves around rules. Obeying them.

And most importantly of all, enforcing them.

"Remember to stay hidden and out of sight."

The woman continues to speak as I shift my weight, crouched in the darkness. In the distance small groups of people begin gathering at a disused warehouse. A noiseless growl wells up from my throat, my impatience at this inactivity growing.

"I cannot support your deployment in places with too many people. The system will force eject you to prevent fatal errors from occurring."

Who cares about that? I want to scream. Just let this whole farce burn down and be over already.

"But maybe being ejected is what you want?" the woman sounds amused now.

Yes. Maybe it is. It would be a break from this thankless busy work.

"I like spending time with you too. But business comes first." the woman chuckles.

Stop making this about you. Stop it, please.

"After the lesson in humility you taught our sensitive harem prince," the woman laughs, "he now understands his true place in this world. We can trust him to play his part."

I flex my arm and it begins to split apart like an unravelling length of rope. Strands of barbed wire twist and coil from the stump of my elbow, lashing at the ground in agitation.

"You want to give Carl another trashing?" the voice asks, "I know you don't like him but try to keep it professional."

Beating Carl up was the only satisfaction I received recently. I didn't hurt him too badly either. Not that it matters in the first place.

"You might have given Carl PTSD with how savage that previous beating was." the woman comments, "I think he could be too traumatized to keep his harem."

Wasn't that the whole point? Coercion happens after co-option is no longer possible.

"I checked Carl's status just now." the woman's voice slips into a conspiratorial whisper, "He can't get it up anymore."

Oh, that's pretty serious. I feel bad actually.

"So I'm certain Carl will do as he's told." the woman concludes.

But if Carl can't, uh, perform how is he going to satisfy the alpha singularity?

"I'll just enable the virility and increased size perk for Carl if things come to that. It really isn't an issue." a dismissive shrug from my overseer.

So why am I being deployed in the first place? Everything seems under control.

"Because Carl might get ideas. He might want to start talking to the alpha singularity. About the things that really matter."

And we can't have that.

"Of course not. So if that happens, I'm counting on you to give Carl a remedial lesson."

There's too many people in the warehouse. I'll be force ejected if I approach.

"Get creative. I've allowed you to keep your human initiative for a reason."

Got it.

"Honestly 69, sometimes you ask the most silly questions."

I sullenly sink back into the shadows as commotion breaks out in the warehouse. Looks like Carl bent the knee at the end of the day.

"But that's alright. I like you anyway."

------

My stomach turns inside out and an irresistible tidal wave of puke is blasted from my mouth all over the asphalt. Sinking to my knees, I watch with morbid fascination at how much liquid a person's stomach can hold. Sinking to my knees, I hurriedly let myself collapse to the side to avoid faceplanting directly into the steaming pool of gastric juice.

Ego bleed. Memories of a past life. That's what Maus said the visions were. But how far can I trust them? Could I simply be going insane? The setting sun has no answers for me. The crows gather in the trees, squabbling away as they fight for a place to roost for the night. The stars will come out again soon.

And the stars will watch everything I do with their unblinking stare.

There is no escape.

The purge cycle will continue.

Forever and ever.

Until -

"STOP!" I yell at the top of my voice, gripping my head with both hands.

The dark, intruding thoughts cease, giving me some reprieve. But my relief is short lived.

"Shut up." a rough hand closes in on my mouth. A pair of nervous eyes regard me, flicking back and forth.

Its Paul's driver. The moment he realizes I recognize him, the driver removes his hand and helps me back up to my feet.

"You need to leave this place, now." the driver hisses urgently and begins half prodding, half pushing me.

Its only then my mind starts working. I'm no longer by the side of the highway. I've somehow walked all the way to a warehouse district while spazzing out from ego bleed.

The same warehouse district I saw in my vision.