Nev pushes the coffee table, broken bottles, light shade and other debris from the previous nights commotion to one side of the room. He lies down in the space created in the middle of the living room. The creature grips the fist sized stone with one hand and holds it above Nev's face.
Open your mouth, the creature's thought relayed to a nervous Nev.
What? I can't fit that in my mouth.
In it's liquid form you can.
Nev settles back down and opens his mouth as his eyes close. The creature squeezed the stone with little effort and droplets quickly turn into a stream of a thick black tar like substance. With not a drop spared, the creature closes Nev's mouth as he hesitates to swallow and the beast runs its fingers down Nev's throat to relax his muscles, and as Nev does gradually loosen up, the tar like liquid passes by his chest with a sudden rush of warmth and his eyes shoot open, eyes black as the stone and equally as polished. Looking down at Nev, the creature captures an unflattering glimpse of itself in the young mans eyes, knowing what is about to happen as it has done many times before but hopeful this shall be the last.
Nev stands lonely in an unknown darkness with no borders. Speckles of light flicker around him, gradually speeding up and objects and people are formed from these specks and become solid like shapes but they are visibly lacking in colour or life, a monochromatic filter covers the world. Nev reaches out at a line of people walking past him and, although they acknowledge the feeling reaching out, the people look right through him as if he wasn't there.
The landscape around them is slowly built up like a video game loading. Mud roads and forests of fire burning so surely in the gusts of wind and rain as it whips across the flat lands. The line of people attempt to lessen the lashings of weather and shield themselves with clothing and bags they have on their persons as Nev takes it all in.
He notices a vehicle in the distance coming from the same direction as the line of people have walked. Someone else in the queue looks back and also sees this, a young woman of all but skin and bones, panics and runs out of the line to a field to the left of her which is spotted with craters of unknown depths and damaged crops. Others in the queue also panic, urging the young woman to get back in line as the vehicle draws closer but she keeps stumbling her way through the muddy craters, almost slipping in several times only to claw her way back up.
Nev simply stands, having no idea what is going on or what he can do, that is until the vehicle beeps its horn and stops a few feet away from him. On the military carriage is Nazi insignia and of course on the uniforms of the occupants as well. The driver, missing his left eye, reaches behind him and pulls out a machine gun. Nev, in a sudden panic like those in the line, scrambles and slips in the mud. As he looks up from the puddle he kneels in, a burst of semi automatic gunfire is recklessly emptied into the young woman and she falls out of sight. The Nazi officer turns and seems to notice Nev like nobody else has and a sadistic grin curls up across one side of his mouth.
In a literal blink of an eye, Nev finds himself in a cold and dark concrete room, a damp and mouldy atmosphere chokes his airway. He coughs and something rattles from the other end of the room, that something spoke out with a dry throat not used for some time, it sounded like "Hello" but Nev couldn't be sure so doesn't reply and, in desperation not to draw attention from what ever spoke to him, Nev catches himself as he was about to cough again. A ribbon of chains rush to the centre of the room and with equal urgency Nev hurries backwards.
A man with a uncountable amount of scars, no nose or eyes holds his hands out to feel if something is there. Noticing there is a door behind him, Nev pulls at the handle not wanting to draw attention but fails as the hinges squeak.
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Wait, the chained man cried.
Nev leaves before he has an opportunity to follow up on this cry for help.
On the other side of the door Nev is hit with a blinding light and a shockwave of epic nuclear proportions rapidly hits and knocks him backwards over a dune and he tumbles down it further into the darkness.
Exhausted and struggling to push himself up, waves of black liquid rushes over him and from within the waves are hands grabbing at Nev to pull him into the dark ocean. A black velvet ocean, inked with blood, a deep dark cherry red ripples against Nev and tinges his clothing.
Lacking in physical and mental strength, he doesn't fight it and is rolled over several times by the hands within the waves until he floats away on the tide to nowhere.
A voice, from nowhere, rumbles Nev's ear drums.
You wish to know how, where and why?
And without a suggestion of a reply, the fingertips that gently lift Nev above the waves suddenly claw away pulling at every thread of clothing and drag him beneath the surface. He chokes and fights against the hands forcing him down, trying to climb up for air but more hands force him further down.
There's no need to struggle my friend.
A hand is placed over Nev's face which temporarily obscures his vision but once it is removed he is back in his flat, in the middle of his living room, coughing up black liquid as the creature forms it back to its stone shape in the palm of its hand.
A sombre silence sticks with Nev, he tries to gather his thoughts as they scatter in every direction like loose marbles. The vile horrors shown to him flicker through his dead stare as the beast watches on, giving Nev the necessary breathing room to a incomprehensible situation and the ups and downs the beast's mere presence seems to provide as it has done many times before.
Why do you let them do those things?
I never let my personal opinion interfere in such matters. I'm here to merely provide an opportunity and this is how men choose to use it.
Nev, for the first time, looks the beast directly in its eyes and remembers the Nazi officer shooting that woman.
Couldn't you stop them?
I have the ability to do so but this isn't the deal. A freedom to live how one chooses for a token of my choosing is the price. Anything beyond that is not part of the transaction and I have no say, no matter how despicable it might be.
And it's all real right? Those were real people?
If it felt real then yes, but it's a fractured reality, a splintered version of where we are now. A time without time. When you dream you move and feel and interact with things, things that aren't there, you're not physically there are you? Yet you feel and touch, have conversations, but it's not real, is it? And after you wake up in a sweat because of what you experienced, a reaction to the dream or nightmare makes it feel real when, in reality, it isn't.
Nev replies with a disapproving frown and shake of his head.
Can I stop them?
Other people's lives? I'm afraid not. They've paid their token to do and live as they please.
What are these tokens? People pay you to do those things?
The creature shakes its head.
It's not a payment. It's a donation, a token. I'm trapped, held hostage to a curse and every token gets me closer to freedom.
What did they give you?
I need body parts to become whole again and these are the tokens offered. I take one token from each person until I am able to return to the physical world. To set me free from the prison I have lived in for countless centuries and I need one last thing, something from you Nev, I need your tongue, it's the missing piece.
I can give you everything they gave you if you stop them! You're collecting body parts to become real or whole or whatever, I'll give you everything they did to stop them!
That would be quite generous but I couldn't accept as I am unable to return the tokens. I should however remind you that what was seen was but a fraction of how others live. Not all are bad and there's no need to dwell on how others are living. You can create a space for yourself in any way you wish.
Nev, with a determined scowl, replies without moving his mouth, thinking out loud, And if I refuse?
You continue with your life as it is. You'll have to get that ceiling fixed, find a new job, same old stuff.
With a gnawing ache, a sharp biting from the trap he finds himself in, the same trap that squeezed him throughout his young adult life to the point of no return and yet Nev feels the offer of something different feels like more of the same. An opportunity for change often feels like this, stepping out of one hole and into another.