8.

Had James been awake, he would have seen It. He would have known and understood the reason for his forgetfulness. The motive that lead to the shivering sensation of being followed by eyes that were not his own. He would have seen his vulnerable sleeping frame, exposed in its exhausted state, being attentively observed by It. The One that lingers. The One who stays. The One who knows.

Yet, the overwhelming pressure of tiredness that weighed on James’s body ensured that, had the whole planet been torned asunder, he would and resume his sleep. He slept and slept, for minutes…hours…days. He could not tell. Yet, as he woke up with a groan, his stomach sure could tell, as it loudly grumbled and complained of his owner’s careless neglect as if offended.

But despite this pressing accusation, James’s attention was immediately diverted by the pounding headache that threatened to blind his senses. The pain was more intense than what he had ever experienced. It felt…like an intrusion, like…something rummaged in his mind, thrashed around his thoughts disrespectfully and carelessly. And the end result was a strong cramping in his brain, and an unfocused perception of his surroundings.

He looked around, and the ghost-like images of the furniture around him were a forceful reminder of the metal that hungrily and ruthlessly hugged his face. He gasped at the sudden memory, and a shudder travelled down his spine. He was not getting paid enough for this. As his fingers caressed the edges of the metal on his face, he jolted and quickly looked around. He could swear…no. Nothing, again. Just the fantastic images of furniture about to be.

But…he had felt it. Stronger that before. This…lingering presence. An overwhelming presence. Deciding he would rather stumble than fall down a makeshift window that would no doubt appear out of thin air should he touch a wall, James stood up and began to leave the room, too uncomfortable with the prospect of staying within. Now with what could only be described as a metallic mask on his face, the interior of the building came to life, all sorts of details and floating explanations in an alien language appearing before his eyes.

It was almost like navigating in a different place and planet, no longer been greeted by the cold, unfeeling and harsh metallic surface over and over again. The ever shifting information and ghostly images of all the potential objects to be provided a different perspective on the planet and its past inhabitants. And it filled James with the desire to see this new world that was presented to him outside the oppressing walls that threatened to trap him into their heart of metal. That’s what it felt like anyway.

He quickly found his way back outside, once again marveling at the endlessly intertwined structures. But now, they brimmed and pulsed with life and movement as animations and what seemed to be alien commercials popped into his view with each step he took across the city. It was…surreal, in a phantasmagorical way. Almost…as if he looked hard enough, he would perceive a reality underneath a reality. Like a painting underneath a painting, just waiting to be discovered and explored by its own right.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

James shook his head, trying to clear his mind, which he immediately regretted as a sense of disorientation overpowered him. He really needed to eat something. He was starting to have thoughts that were not his own, and that was no good. When on Earth and beyond did he ever think deep things like what is the very nature of reality? Every time he thought too much he only thunk problems up, so he had decided to keep it simple a while back.

He chuckled to himself mirthlessly and leaned onto the wall of a nearby building warily, should the wall collapse by his touch. Yet it stood firm, and James let out a sigh and plunged his hand into his pocket, retrieving some food. At this point, between the intense headache and the sensorial stimulation that the reality shown by the mask provided, he had all but forgotten how hungry he was. But as the food met his mouth, he had to contain a loud moan that nearly escaped his throat. He thought to himself that no matter how much of a jam you’re in, food always tastes good. He might not believe in divine intervention, but the food sure as heck felt heavenly.

James continued to munch lovingly on his food, now completely oblivious to his environment and lost in a trance. That’s when he saw something in the corner of his eye. A shadow of sorts, imperceptible. He stopped eating, his body tensing up as the recognizable feeling of not being alone struck him. His eyes darted back and forth, searching around him desperately. Nothing again. Must have been his exhausted mind playing tricks on him. Or a temporary failure of the mask.

He was about to take another bite of his food, as his eyes lingered straight ahead and met the presence that had followed him for so long, without his knowledge. It stood in front of the building straight ahead of James, still and tall. Dark and almost shapeless. An undefined creature, that you cannot fully assess the nature of by looking directly. It seemed to stare back.

Time seemed to freeze as James’s food fell in slow-motion, his body frozen in the face of dangerous unknown for the first time in his life. He could only stare, his mind throbbing heavily under an external pressure. Until…It moved. It didn’t walk, or float. It was as…the metal itself supported its unnatural movement.

Suddenly, James’s sense of primal fear overwrote whatever force that pinned him to his place, and his shaking legs propelled him to run away. To where, it did not matter. Away. He stumbled and fell, tripped and felled again and again. Yet, the presence seem to be ever on his tail, but never reached him.

James gasped and panted, the exertion pushing his body to limits he didn’t think possible, as the stale and anemic air invaded his lungs in an aggressive intake. Soon enough, James found himself in a dead-end, leading towards an opulent building. He looked around, but there were no means of escaping other than proceeding forward.

Refusing to look back, he cursed under his breath for what felt the thousandth time since he set foot on the “Wanderer”, and placed his hand on the door which rapidly opened, after which, closed behind his heaving frame with a final loud thump.