This is not how our camping trip was supposed to go. The plan was simple, we leave on Thursday, skipping class and carrying enough food, water, weed, and psychedelics to last the five of us until Monday morning. We weren't drug-addled degenerates, except for maybe Patrick, just some college kids wanting to get away from our stressful midterm cramming and experience a little psyche-warping psychedelia. Randy was the trip-sitter, being the most responsible of the five. I thought the plan was fool-proof, completely rock solid.
I was wrong.
Then again, who plans for the apocalypse?
Everything went off without a hitch. We were sitting around the fire, having set up our tents, when James told us he had a surprise, wanted to wait until we were all set up to tell us about it. He pulled out a little baggy, waving it at us with it pinched between his thumb and index finger, "Managed to snag some DMT for the trip!" he exclaimed, "I know you've been wanting to try it Ken." I was ecstatic. DMT, the god particle. The crem-de-la-crem of psychedelics, every psychonaut's wet dream. James had a way of getting ahold of the good stuff, always had, and he definitely came through for us this time.
"Holy shit, James!", I shouted, giddy at the thought of it. The rest of us were pretty enthused, even Randy. He generally just smoked a joint and watched us act a fool, making sure we didn't get the cops called on us for being rowdy, he'd done his fair share of psychedelics and felt he'd learned what he needed to and left it at that. Like I said, the responsible one.
Patrick and Tim went ahead and dropped, saying they'd partake the next day. I didn't like mixing my psyches, didn't even smoke while on them, I liked the pure experience. Randy took out one of his pre-rolled joints and sparked it up while James loaded up the pipe with DMT. Yeah it was technically a Meth pipe, but context was important and our group didn't tolerate the 'hard' stuff, so to us it was a DMT pipe.
"So what's the process here, James? Vaporize then lift off?" I asked him.
"Pretty much Ken, just inhale till you can't anymore, and trust me there will be a point you can't. I'll grab the pipe from you when you drop it, that way it doesn't break." he replied. "Now, it's pretty intense; but don't let it freak you out, you'll feel like you hit a wall with it, but if you did enough you'll 'break through' and be flying through rivers of geometry in no time."
Barely able to contain my excitement, eager to experience a whole new brand of tripping, I accepted the pipe from him. "Hey, James, can I borrow a light?" I asked him. "Yeah man sure but don't steal it, I only brought the one." He replied, passing me his lighter. It was one of the ones that had a plastic sleeve printed with some geometric design, cheap, but he liked to cut the plastic off and collect them. Stoners are weird after all.
Tim and Patrick were already on the come-up of their own trips, getting stuck staring at the fire for a couple minutes, before bursting into laughter and mumbling some nonsense to themselves that to them was utterly profound. I took a few deep breaths, mentally preparing myself, putting the pipe to my lips, vaporizing the absolutely miniscule amount of powder into thick, mothball smelling (and tasting) smoke. I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with the stuff, exhaling, and doing it again two more times, the world around me becoming more distorted with each toke. Colors became more vibrant, our campsite shifting into patterned lines of every color and then some. The last thing I heard before dropping into a seemingly endless space was Randy chuckling, "Andddd there he goes!"
You know how hyperspace travel is shown in movies? A seemingly endless tunnel of light and colors? It was like that, in a way. Words can't describe the true depth of it, the colors connect with sound, the sound connects to texture, the texture connects to the taste of strawberries. Endlessly, over and over, thousands of times in a perceived second. I let the feeling wash over me, not even trying to resist it. It lasted for what felt like years, experiencing every possible emotion, sound, and pattern. Then, all of a sudden I was standing in a white space... Which was weird, shouldn't there be colorful patterns everywhere? I'd never heard of anyone encountering a white room before. Machine elves? Sure, but even they were endlessly complex constructs of color and geometry. I looked around and saw... nothing. Literally nothing except for white, I couldn't even see distance, everything was just... blank.
"Hello?" I asked the void.
"Hello." The void replied.
I practically jumped ten feet into the air, or maybe I actually did, it's hard to tell there. It's voiced seemingly coming from all directions, even in my head. "Uhh, where am I?" I questioned, trying to orient myself towards the voice. You have to be polite when talking to the void after all.
"Well, you are in the woods, Ken, physically at least. I am quite surprised your mind held together long enough to reach this place." it stated, it's voice both gentle and powerful at the same time, "But your time runs short. Your tenacity impresses me, so you will not leave empty-handed. I hope you will be able to use this gift, it should give you a slight edge in surviving what's to come. I grant you SIGHT."
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
My reply got stuck in my throat as I then experienced possibly the worst pain anyone, ever, has experienced in the history of everything.
I'm not ashamed to say I screamed the entire way back through my trip. My head and eyes, and then my whole body, felt like it was stuffed with brightly burning coals, as all the things I experienced on my way to the white space flashed back across my consciousness. What took several perceived years before was condensed into seconds of pure agony and suffering.
"I'm never doing that again." Was the only thing I had time to think before I lost consciousness.
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Dawn was breaking when I regained consciousness. Which was odd by itself, the trip should've only lasted 30 minutes at most, despite it feeling like years had past. I had a splitting headache, I groaned as I opened my eyes. The first thing I noticed as I looked into the canopy above me was the shimmer in the air. It looked like the heat radiating off of the hood of a car on a hot day, but it was everywhere. The trees radiated the same, but instead of it being clear, it had a slight green tint. I sat up blearily, rubbing my eyes. It reminded me of the come-down of acid, where things were slightly distorted, but it wasn't quite the same, I couldn't see it when I closed my eyes. I looked around our campsite, searching for any sign of my friends. The tents were there, the fire was embers at this point, it radiated a slight red, the smoke was red and grey.
"Randy?" I called out to the trees. No response. "James, Patrick, Tim?!" I shouted, hoping they were just dicking around at the nearby creek. Nothing. I stood up, looking closely at my surroundings, maybe they left a note or something. Looking into the tents gave me nothing to really go off of. Randy's and James' packs were gone. Patrick's and Tim's were sitting in front of their tents, which really didn't ease my mind. I sighed, realizing that they could be gone for hours, and walked over to a bush to take a leak. I unzipped my pants and began pissing when a twig snapped behind me. I turned to the sound, started, and saw Patrick standing there, except... It wasn't Patrick. His arms were covered in deep scratches, his right arm bent at a strange angle as if broken, he radiated a deep black tint.
"Uh, Patrick, you okay man?" I asked him, taking a step back and zipping up my pants. He snarled in response, lunging towards me, his non-broken arm reaching for my throat. I fell backwards, scrambling back to my feet. "Woah man, chill out! What's wrong man, did you hit your head or something? It's Ken!" I shouted at him, trying to make more space between us. He kept advancing, the black aura around him getting darker and darker before condensing on his right arm, the bones suddenly snapping back into place with a sickening crunch. "What the fu-'' was all I could get out before he lunged again a lot faster than Patrick should have been able to, tackling me to the ground and grabbing my shoulders. He opened his mouth wide, his breath smelled like iron, and his jaw unhinged making a cracking sound as it did. His teeth were barely an inch from my face when something hit him in the side of the head, breaking his grip on my shoulders and sending him flying off of me. I scrambled backwards, and got to my feet quickly. Randy was standing there, a large tree branch at the ready. He smacked Patrick on the head again, snapping the branch in half, his body crumpling on the ground.
"Let's go!" Randy shouted, dropping the broken branch and grabbing my shirt, practically dragging me with him through the trees. "What the fuck was that?! What was wrong with him?!" I asked, still in shock of almost losing my face to one of my best friends. "No time! I'll explain when we're safe!" Randy shouted back.
We ran for what felt like miles, hitting the creek, fording the shallow waters and then running upstream. We came to an overhang about eight feet off the ground. "Here we are, get in." Randy said, gasping for breath. I struggled with the climb, the adrenaline from the near death experience wearing off. I collapsed to the ground once I got over the ledge, laying there for about about five minutes before sitting up.
James was laying on the ground, his backpack used as a pillow, his arms covered in makeshift bandages made of ripped up t-shirts. His breathing was shallow and he seemed to be unconscious. Randy was sitting at the edge of opening, staring intently into the woods. He glanced over at me when he heard me move, a dark look on his face. "I'm glad you're okay, Ken. I was worried they had already gotten you." he said, his tone twinged with anger. He looked tired. "What the fuck just happened, Randy? What the fuck was that?" I asked, my voice shaking.
"That was Patrick." Randy replied, shaking his head. "After you took that hit, everything went to utter shit. A wave of... something... passed over everything, it looked like the sky exploded, like the northern lights but with every single color. Patrick and Tim started seizing, it felt like our insides were burning, and just as quickly as it came on, it vanished. Me and James tried to check on them, as soon as we touched them they attacked us. They weren't THEM anymore. They fucked James up bad, I barely managed to drag him up here. I went to get our packs so I could bandage him up, then I was going to carry you back here, but they found me again when I got back to the camp. I managed to lose them in the woods. I thought they killed you until I heard you shouting for us, so I ran back to help you."
He fell silent after hearing a branch snap in the treeline, we both tensed up, going completely still.
A deer thing, with ripped, bulging skin, striped patches of black and brown fur, and spiralled branching antlers ran through the creek. It disappeared on the otherside, back into the trees, as quickly as it had emerged.
"What the fuck is going on..." Is all I could say.