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64. Shut Up, Chair

64. Shut Up, Chair

When Neil opened his eyes, he knew he was dead. Growing up, people in long robes had taught him that when you die, there’s another place you go to. Well, there was actually two options. One was the nice place, where all the good boys and gals get to run through fields with puppies and live forever. The other place was where the bad ones went. Typically, the imagery they provided him with contained a whole lot of red. Fire, brimstone, a bed of lava or two. It scared him because that was what it was meant to do. If you were frightened about burning alive for eternity, surely, you’ll do your homework when you’re asked to. But now, as he stared into the cold nothingness, that fate seemed almost comforting.

He would have loved to be surrounded by fire. The cold floor was practically turning him to ice. The bright lava would have provided some light so that the empty dark wouldn’t feel so vast. Sure, the pain would be unimaginable. Yet, he couldn’t picture that it would compare to the sharp, needle-like pain in his chest. It was like there were a thousand tiny knifes taking turns piercing him to see which place hurt the most. Maybe this was that other place? Perhaps everyone had been wrong about the brimstone? It would make sense. Neil couldn’t think of a worse fate than being trapped in a place like this. The nothingness scared him. When compared to an eternity of blankness, was hell a mercy?

It struck him then that he could move. Strange how he could forget a thing like that. Sliding up, he found that he was now pressing against a wall. He could feel it there behind him, providing support for his aching back. It was quite the comfort, and if he was truly in the place he thought he was, that wouldn’t be right.

Oh shit, I’m alive. Well, that’s good. I guess.

The obvious next question was to wonder how he was alive. This was a bit unexpected- if he was being honest with himself. His assumption had been that he would simply drift off into sleep, never to wake up again. Either his wounds would finish the job, or his friends would.

His friends.

How hadn’t they found him yet? Why hadn’t Sophia come and fired the killing round? Alex surely was out of the tube by now, and he had to be smart enough to figure out where he was hiding. It wasn’t like the door was locked. Anyone could get in. The privacy room was a last-ditch effort- a final roll of the dice to see if he could extend his life just a little bit longer.

With an unsteady pull, Neil reached into his coat pocket and plucked out his goggles. Their lenses glowed brightly, but even they weren’t strong enough to make a dent in the shadows. Making use of the grey strap, he slid them on. The room lit up, revealing its expected dull emptiness.

He wished it was the room he was examining, and not the fried remains of his torso. The honey-colored bandage was a lot more black than usual. As he peeled it from his skin, a layer of ash came with it. It was all he could do to not focus on it. But the wound itself wasn’t anything to comfort him. Where the flesh of his ribcage had been, there was now a small crater.

Seeing people’s limbs get sliced off and mutilated in the movies never bothered him much. He knew it was all special effects. No one was actually getting hurt; it was just a way to experience something you would never go through. However, now that he was actually living that horror, he nearly threw up in his mouth at the thought.

Desperately, he tried to find something reassuring about it. The wound wasn’t that deep. He couldn’t see his bones, and he wasn’t actively bleeding. One thing about a Blazer shot, he understood only now, was that it wasn’t a projectile. It was a blast of energy. Yeah, it could kill just as easily as a bullet, but there was nothing to get lodged within the body.

While he was technically still intact, his clothes certainly hadn’t gotten that lucky. He remembered that his new vest had a diamond pattern. Well, that was gone now, having been stained with ash past the point of recognition. Most of it had sizzled away, and the entire thing was barely hanging on him by the arms. His shirt was practically just a collar. At least his coat was fine. Losing that would have been painful in itself.

Rewrapping the bandage, Neil held back another cry. You have to be quiet. They could hear you.

Could they? When he had screamed in the corridor, Sophia hadn’t heard him. No one did. Sound carried long and fast in the Lavender, and it wasn’t like this was just some fluke. There was something wrong with his friends- that much was clear. At first, he guessed that their motives for attempted homicide ranged from pure malice to anger-filled revenge. Now, he wasn’t too sure.

Mind control maybe? That’s possible, right? Aliens have spaceships and teleporters, so they have to have that type of tech. He shook his head, the bloody purple bruises from Alex’s cords crying out in protest from his neck. No, I’m just trying to hope my way out of what’s really happening. They’ve turned on me. They want me dead, isn’t that obvious? I should have known this was going to happen. But…

The truth was, he still didn’t know what was happening. What was crazier? That some unknown alien force was compelling his friends to kill him, or that they were doing that all on their own? Either option made him feel like a lunatic. He wouldn’t be surprised if he woke up one day and found himself in a straight-jacket surrounded by comfy walls. All he needed was a tin-foil hat, and the image would be complete. The one thing he did know was that staying in this place wasn’t something he could do. He needed answers, and there wasn’t any way he could get them in here.

A part of Neil just wanted to walk up to his friends and ask them why they did this. That part was clearly stupid because that would undoubtedly end with him dead on the ground. Still, he couldn’t get out of this situation unless he knew what was going on. There was only one thing he could think of that might tell him anything at all.

The thingy.

The thingy in question was the contraption that they had found on the Lavender 9. He hadn’t expected to be able to get it to work, seeing how what his track record was with everything else on the ship. It had started writing something before the whole ‘murder-Neil’ fiasco. Maybe it was useful? There was a clear problem with this plan. He didn’t have the contraption with him. Right now, it was sitting someplace in the control room. Which meant, if he was unlucky, that any number of his friends could be standing between them.

Using the wall as a crutch, he stood up. He knew he was afraid, and if he didn’t, the heartbeat ringing in his ears would have informed him. What other option did he have? Die alone in here, or go out there and maybe live? This was a choice he felt like he was making way too often.

He grabbed the handle and shoved his ear to the door. Neil wasn’t stupid. It wouldn’t be that farfetched to assume an ambush was waiting for him on the other side. So, he listened. A good thirty minutes passed as he searched for any giveaway. There was no slight shuffle of clothing, or the sound of anyone breathing. There was nothing, and this worried him. No matter what he did, he would be going in blind.

Well, I’m a dead guy either way.

The door swung open. The dim lights on the floor were somehow strong enough to blind him after so long in the dark. But he didn’t hesitate. Every moment in the corridor was a second in the open, and he didn’t have much time left to spare.

No one was there that he could see, so he bolted to the control room. It wasn’t a far journey, and the two massive metal doors greeted him quickly. They were just as open as he had left them. He started to go in, but Timothy’s ambush was still fresh in his memory. Staying cautious around corners was vital, as his friends were sneakier than he had given them credit for.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

As slowly as he could muster, he peeked inside. He half-expected to see Sophia there, aiming her gun straight at him. Instead, all he saw was an empty room. Well, nearly empty.

The pilot’s seat sat in the middle of the space, just like it had always done. There was nothing alive about it, but somehow it still carried this aura of something watching him. No, not watching- judging. It was like it was saying, ‘well, well, well. Look who’s still alive. What a shame.’ A tangled mass of wires curled around the base of the complex chair, and Neil couldn’t help but imagine them going around his neck.

He shook it off. Wasting time staring at a stupid chair wasn’t going to do him any favors. The contraption was still where he dropped it, although the spinning wheels had long-since finished their invisible race. Bending down, he scooped it up and nearly screamed when a corner jammed itself into his wound.

‘What are you even trying to do?’ The chair seemed to say. ‘You actually think you can live through this?’

“Shut up, chair,” Neil muttered to himself, not knowing how absolutely insane he sounded.

Carefully, he carried the device back. He needed to return to the privacy room. If his friends hadn’t found him in there, then it was his safest bet.

Neil nearly reached the door before he heard footsteps approaching.

His heart sank. The control room was a completely open area. There weren’t any cubbies, closets, or corners to hide in. He was completely exposed. Maybe he could hide behind the chair? No, it was too thin. Even now, the footsteps were right in front of him. He didn’t have time to think.

In a blur of ash and grey, Neil threw himself to the side of the door. He and the contraption landed with loud thuds, but there was nothing he could do to stop that. With a twitch, he pressed up against the wall, trying to make himself as thin as possible.

Through the doorway, one of his friends stepped. Unfortunately, it was the last person he wanted to see.

Sophia took a few strides forward, her stance confident and determined. The Blazer remained at her side, and her finger was still curled around the trigger. Her long green jacket seemed to stand out even more against the backdrop of the storming planet. All she would have to do was turn her head, and it would all be over. But she stood still, like she was listening for something.

Yet, for a moment, Neil forgot the danger that he was in. There was something very different about her now, and he could tell. He’d seen it in Alex too- one detail that was out of place. It was in her eyes. They were as red as rubies and swollen up, like something awful had irritated them. It almost hurt to look at.

Promptly, she took a few more steps forward.

The urge to take this chance to run was overwhelming, but she was still so close to the door. Another idea flickered into his head, and he almost hated himself for considering it. Sophia was going to kill him- she had already tried. The sharp pain from the corner of the contraption still stung his chest. He could only imagine what damage that could cause if someone were to use it as a weapon. One good swing would be all he needed. She was stronger than him- that was a no-brainer. But he could be quick. A single blow to the head and he would have the gun. He could be safe. It would be totally justifiable. No one could blame him. Well, no one besides himself, that is.

As he stood, he realized that he just couldn’t do it. No matter how much he told his arms to raise the make-shift weapon to strike, they refused to listen. Sophia was turning now, and he knew his cowardice would kill him. He twitched, preparing for what was to come.

“Wait!” He cried as the barrel of the Blazer raised. “Please, this isn’t you, is it? Just tell me! For the love of God, just give me that!”

Sophia’s swollen eyes stared into his, and he knew in this moment that he would never see anything so red for the rest of his life. It was like her pupils had gotten smaller, being erased in a sea of blood. Not only that, but there was something else in that ocean. It swam around, making waves as it joyously bathed in the murky depths. The skin beneath her eye wiggled, like there was something crawling up her cheek. Nevertheless, she didn’t seem to notice. This was all natural, wasn’t it? Business as usual.

Slowly, Neil reached into his coat, barely able to keep a scream of fright tucked inside. “Soph… Please. There’s something wrong. Very, very wrong! I don’t know what’s happened, but let me help you- if it even is still you.”

The girl’s hand was shaking, which wasn’t comforting considering how close she was to pulling the trigger. Her lips moved up and down, as though speaking. Something crimson rolled down her cheek. It was impossible to tell if it was blood or a tear.

What was she saying? Was she trying to tell him what was happening? Some desperate apology? Wait, he noticed something. A single word, but that couldn’t be right. Why the hell would she be talking about William?

Then, abruptly, any sign of emotion pulled away. She stood straighter, her frame convulsing and bending to reach this position. The curved, awkward barrel of the Blazer raised. All that there was left to do was for someone to yell ‘fire!’

But suddenly, there was smoke.

Any sightline Sophia had on her target vanished instantly as the fog consumed her. Confusion turned to anger as she desperately flailed her arms around, trying to bat it all away. Inside her stomach, a rumble turned into an ear-piercing howl as she let out a screech that resounded down every part of both Lavenders. She grasped desperately at nothing to catch him, but all she got was open air.

Neil bolted through the two metal doors, his entire body shivering as his friend screamed. No human would ever voluntarily make that noise. It was like she was calling out for whatever gods were around, only to find that none were listening.

The smoke was following him through the corridor, shielding his escape in grey fumes. He practically blended in with it, as his grey tattered coat drifted silently through the shroud. The only thing that may have stuck out was the contraption that he clutched at his side. Concealed behind the cover of his pockets, he was holding a cylinder gas canister. He hadn’t known why he had stolen it from that little shop back on the Ring, but now he was incredibly thankful for his kleptomaniac-tendencies. Not wanting to waste anymore, he pressed the red activate switch to turn it off.

His old PE coach would have been proud as he made it to the privacy room in record time. Without wasting a beat, he flung the door open and threw himself inside. Slamming the entrance shut, he hastily threw the machine on the floor and stood still. What happened next would be very important. He needed to hear everything.

If anyone had seen him come in here, then the game would be up. The thick smoke may have blinded Sophia temporarily, but who knows if she could work out where he went? He hadn’t checked the corridor, which was foolish. The only thing he had noticed were the bits of ash that he had left behind on the floor when he was first shot. Thankfully, whatever path that he was leaving appeared to have stopped. He had gotten lucky, again. His trail of breadcrumbs wouldn’t be leading them directly to him.

It didn’t take long for him to hear Sophia coming down the hall. She was making a low-pitched sound, like a grizzly bear in the woods. He listened as her footsteps approached, reached him, then moved past. They got softer and softer until, finally; they were gone.

Like a bunch of tumbling twigs, Neil collapsed on the floor, goggles and all. He didn’t realize that he hadn’t been breathing, and his chest heaved as he clamored for air. He was alive, somehow. It wasn’t over yet.

Now he had something that could help him. The contraption lay next to him, and he had never seen anything so beautiful. It was possible that there was nothing helpful in it. Although, at the very least, it could serve as some sort of weapon if he had the strength for it. Pulling it over to his lap, Neil grabbed it by the wheels. At a steady pace, he started to rotate them, making sure to keep them at an even rate. He knew that outside this room, his friends were lurking and waiting to strike. But after seeing Sophia, something had shifted inside him.

The people inside the ship weren’t his friends anymore. Yes, he knew that people would call him paranoid, but he didn’t care. Something had come over them. Invisible strings had been tied around their arms and legs, and now they were moving around like someone’s puppets. Whatever messed up song and dance routine they were doing wasn’t because they wanted to. They were being forced.

It shouldn’t have been, but this was very relieving to him. He chuckled to himself. Oh good, my friends are being controlled against their will. What an amazing discovery. But at least he knew whatever they did wasn’t their fault. If he died now, he could go knowing that his friends hadn’t stabbed him in the back.

The wheels on the contraption turned as a little slip of paper rattled out at a snail’s pace. As words began to appear, Neil couldn’t help but frown. If his friends had all become controlled, why hadn’t he? Why was he the odd one out? It didn’t make sense. They were trying so hard to kill him, but why couldn’t they simply take him too?

In the hazy brightness of his goggles, he had to put these doubts aside. Right now, this machine was the only thing that could give him answers. It was a long shot, but there had to be some reason why this strange device seemed so important. You don’t put unnecessary things inside a plane, and he was sure the same must apply for a spaceship. It was possible that it could contain all the priceless answers to his problems, or just give him a poem. Whatever the case may be, it didn’t matter. After all, there was only one to find out.

The contraption spun, and the story of the Lavender 9 unfurled in crumpling paper.